Creativities, Technologies, and Media in Music Learning and Teaching: An Oxford Handbook of Music Education, Volume 5 9780190674564, 9780190674588, 0190674563

Citation preview

C R E AT I V I T I E S , TECHNOLOGIES, A N D M E D IA IN MUSIC LEARNING AND TEACHING

C R E AT I V I T I E S , TECHNOLOGIES, A N D M E D IA IN MUSIC LEARNING AND TEACHING AN OXFORD HANDBOOK OF MUSIC EDUCATION VOLUME 5 Edited by Gary E. McPherson and Graham F. Welch

1

3 Oxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford. It furthers the University’s objective of excellence in research, scholarship, and education by publishing worldwide. Oxford is a registered trade mark of Oxford University Press in the UK and certain other countries. Published in the United States of America by Oxford University Press 198 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016, United States of America. © Oxford University Press 2018 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of Oxford University Press, or as expressly permitted by law, by license, or under terms agreed with the appropriate reproduction rights organization. Inquiries concerning reproduction outside the scope of the above should be sent to the Rights Department, Oxford University Press, at the address above. You must not circulate this work in any other form and you must impose this same condition on any acquirer. Library of Congress Cataloging-​in-​Publication Data Names: McPherson, Gary E. | Welch, Graham (Graham F.) Title: Creativities, technologies, and media in music learning and teaching : an Oxford handbook of music education, Volume 5 / edited by Gary E. McPherson and Graham F. Welch. Description: New York, NY : Oxford University Press, [2018] | Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2018002747| ISBN 9780190674564 (pbk. : alk. paper) | ISBN 9780190674588 (epub) Subjects: LCSH: Music—Instruction and study—Technological innovations. | Music—Instruction and study—Social aspects. Classification: LCC MT1 .O935 2018 | DDC 780.78—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018002747 1 3 5 7 9 8 6 4 2 Printed by WebCom, Inc., Canada

Contents Contributors  vii Introduction to Volume 5  xvii Part 1





Part 2

Musical Creativity as Practice  1 Part Editor: Pamela Burnard 1. Commentary: Musical Creativity as Practice  3 Pamela Burnard 2. Empathy and Creativity in Group Musical Practices: Towards a Concept of Empathic Creativity  22 Ian Cross, Felicity Laurence, and Tal-​Chen Rabinowitch 3. Intercultural Tensions and Creativity in Music  39 Eva Saether with Alagi Mbye and Reza Shayesteh 4. Communal Creativity as Sociomusical Practice  56 Eleni Lapidaki, Rokus de Groot, and Petros Stagkos 5. Assessing Creativity in Music: International Perspectives and Practices  74 Samuel Leong, Pamela Burnard, Neryl Jeanneret, Bo Wah Leung, and Carole Waugh 6. Creativity in Partnership Practices  95 Bernadette D. Colley, Randi Margrethe Eidsaa, Ailbhe Kenny, and Bo Wah Leung Music Learning and Teaching Through Technology  113 Part Editor: Evangelos Himonides 7. Commentary: Music Learning and Teaching Through Technology  115 Evangelos Himonides 8. The Misunderstanding of Music-​Technology Education: A Meta Perspective  119 Evangelos Himonides 9.  Technology and the Educator  143 Ross Purves 10.  The Student Prince: Music-​Making with Technology  162 Andrew King 11.  Driving Forward Technology’s Imprint on Music Education  179 Jonathan Savage

viContents Part 3

Media, Music, and Education  199 Part Editor: Matthew D. Thibeault 12.  Commentary: Media, Music, and Education  201 Matthew D. Thibeault 13.  Music Education in the Postperformance World  203 Matthew D. Thibeault 14. Let’s Play! Learning Music Through Video Games and Virtual Worlds  217 Evan S. Tobias 15. Collaborative Digital Media Performance with Generative Music Systems  236 Andrew R. Brown and Steven C. Dillon 16. Music Learning and New Media in Virtual and Online Environments  254 S. Alex Ruthmann and David G. Hebert Index 273

Contributors Andrew R. Brown  is an active computer musician, computational artist, builder of software tools that support creativity, and educator. He currently holds the position of Professor of Digital Arts at the Queensland Conservatorium of Music, Griffith University, Brisbane, Australia, and has previously worked as the Research Manager for the Australasian Cooperative Research Centre for Interaction Design (ACID), the Coordinator of the Computational Arts Research Group at the Queensland University of Technology, and as a lecturer in music education at the University of Melbourne. His current interests include investigating how technologies support creativity and learning, novel process for computational music and art, and the philosophy of technology. He is the author of the book Computers in Music Education: Amplifying Musicality, published by Routledge. Pamela Burnard  is Professor of Arts, Creativities and Education at the Faculty of Education, University of Cambridge. She co-​convenes the British Educational Research Association (BERA) Special Interest Group, Creativities in Education (https://​www.bera.ac.uk/​group/​creativity-​in-​education), and the biennial international conference, Building Interdisciplinary Bridges Across Cultures and Creativities (www.BIBACC.org). She is an international authority on creativities research and has published widely with 12 books and over 100 articles on creative teaching and learning and the expansion and new conceptualization of diverse creativities across the primary, secondary, and higher education sectors, and creative industries. Her latest research concerns the notion of gendered creativities and seeks to explore how gender is perceived, valued, and experienced by individuals, educators, and employers operating in distinct creative work, creative industries involving career paths, and the creative economy. She is also presently researching STEAM education at the nexus of disciplines and creativities that arise through collaborative learning cultures which disrupt antiquated subject silos. Bernadette Colley  holds bachelor, master, and doctoral degrees from Syracuse, McGill, and Harvard universities respectively. She is founder and principal of Colley Consulting, a research consultancy specializing in arts education policy design since 1989. Prior to professorship at Boston University 2003–​2011, she taught at Harvard and McGill universities, Massachusetts College of Art and Design, and K-​12 schools in the United States. Her research on interdisciplinarity in music education and arts education policy development is published in the Journal of Research in Music Education, Journal of Music Teacher Education, Arts Education Policy Review, Update, Chamber Music, and is presented internationally. She is author of

viiiContributors Minds Alive: Teachers as Scholars—​cases reflecting the importance of teachers’ intellectual rejuvenation. She was music evaluator for NEASC, received the Reston Prize from the National Associations of Schools of Dance, Music, Theatre, Art and Design, and was an Arts Education Fellow at the National Endowment for the Arts in Washington DC. Ian Cross  holds a Licentiate of the Royal Academy of Music and an Associate of the Royal College of Music—​he took a BSc in music at City University, London, before completing a doctorate at the same institution. Since 1986, he has taught in the Faculty of Music at Cambridge University, where he is now Professor of Music and Science. He is director of the Centre for Music and Science in the Faculty of Music at the University of Cambridge, where he is also a fellow of Wolfson College. The interdisciplinary nature of his research interests is reflected in the range of his published work, in which the fields of music cognition, music theory, ethnomusicology, archaeological acoustics, psychoacoustics and, most recently, music and language evolution are represented. His research is guided by the aim of developing an integrated understanding of music as grounded in both biology and culture. Rokus de Groot is Professor Emeritus of Musicology at the University of Amsterdam, after occupying a personal chair “Music in the Netherlands since 1600,” at the University of Utrecht. He obtained a master’s degree of musicology at the University of Amsterdam, and a doctorate of humanities at the University of Utrecht. He conducts research on music of the twentieth and twenty-​first centuries, especially about the systematics and aesthetics of composition; about the interaction between different cultural traditions; about (re)conceptualizations in music practices, of past and present religious and spiritual ideas; and about the metaphorical use of musical concepts in various disciplines, in particular polyphony. In 2009, he was invited to deliver the Edward Said Memorial Lecture at the American University of Cairo. He also works as a composer, creating danced music theater in which artists and scholars of different traditions cooperate in processes of mutual learning. Steven C. Dillon  died in April 2012, soon after finishing his original contribution to the OHME. He studied music education at the University of South Australia, before completing a master of music education and a doctorate of philosophy at La Trobe University in Melbourne. He combined a career as a professional singer songwriter with school music teaching. Steve was a senior lecturer in Music and Sound at Queensland University of Technology, director of save to DISC Research Network and project Leader of the Network Jamming Research Group. He was series editor of the Meaningful Music Making for Life book series, reviewer for international journals, president of the Musicological Society of Australia Queensland branch, and an active affiliate of ISME and ASME. His research interests focused on meaningful engagement with music making and designing digital media technologies and relational pedagogies to provide access to cognitive growth, health, and well-​ being through music-​making.

Contributors

ix

Randi Margrethe Eidsaa  holds a Bachelor of Music Education from the University of Agder, a master’s degree from the University of Oslo and doctoral degree from the Danish School of Education at Aarhus University, Copenhagen. Her research field is composition, music aesthetics, and creative processes in music performance. Her doctoral project was a study on the Cultural Rucksack, a National Norwegian program for art and music in schools. She has organized a number of music performances for professional musicians and school children. She was a member of the National Committee who revised the Norwegian National Music curriculum in 2006. She is involved in the interdisciplinary research program Art in Context at the University of Agder and conducts the long-​term collaborative performance project Musical Dialogues between Norway, Armenia, and Bosnia-​Herzegovina. David G. Hebert  is a Professor of Music at Western Norway University of Applied Sciences, where he leads the Grieg Academy Music Education (GAME) research group. He frequently lectures for China Conservatory, and previously worked for universities in the United States, Japan, Finland, Russia, and New Zealand. With Eva Saether, he is a founder of the Nordic Master of Global Music Program. His research applies an international-​comparative perspective to issues of pluralism, identity, and cultural relevance in music education, as well as processes by which music traditions emerge and change—​both sonically and socially—​as they are adopted into institutions. His writings appear in 30 professional journals and such books as Patriotism and Nationalism in Music Education, Wind Bands and Cultural Identity in Japanese Schools, and Theory and Method in Historical Ethnomusicology. Evangelos Himonides  is Reader in Technology, Education, and Music at University College London (UCL), where he currently leads the post-​graduate program in Music Education and supervises a number of doctoral and post-​doctoral researchers. He held the University of London’s first ever lectureship in music technology education. He edits the Society for Education and Music Psychology Research (SEMPRE) conference series, is associate editor of the Journal of Music, Technology and Education (JMTE), associate editor of Logopedics Phoniatrics Vocology, and associate editor of Frontiers in Psychology. Evangelos has developed the free online technologies for Sounds of Intent (soundsofintent.org & eysoi.org). He is a Chartered Fellow (FBCS CITP) of the British Computer Society. Neryl Jeanneret  studied undergraduate music at the University of Sydney, followed by a diploma of education, a master of education, and a doctor of philosophy. She is the Head of Music Education in Arts Education in the Melbourne Graduate School of Education. Neryl has served as national president of the Australian Society of Music Education, the chair of the International Society for Music Education’s policy commission, and chief examiner of music for the Board of Studies, New South Wales. Her current research focuses on engagement, the impact of arts partnerships in schools and other settings, and effective teaching models for the preparation of preservice primary generalists and pedagogy in the music classroom. She has been involved in curriculum writing and assessment K-​12 as well as development of

xContributors teacher support materials for organizations such as the Department of Education and Training (Victoria), Opera Australia, the Department of Education (New South Wales), Musica Viva, and the Sydney Symphony Orchestra. Ailbhe Kenny is Lecturer and Coordinator of Music Education at Mary Immaculate College, University of Limerick, Ireland. She holds a PhD from the University of Cambridge and as a Fulbright Scholar, spent 2014/​2015 at Teachers College, Columbia University, and New  York University. Previous positions held include Research Fellow at Dublin City University, Primary Teacher, and Arts and Education Officer at “The Ark–​a cultural centre for children” in Dublin. Ailbhe has led numerous professional development courses and is actively involved in community projects, which includes directing the MIC Children’s Choir. She regularly publishes in international journals, handbooks, and edited volumes on music, arts, and teacher education. Her first monograph, Communities of Musical Practice, was published by Routledge in 2016. Andrew King studied Music at the University of Huddersfield, a Doctorate of Philosophy at the University of Northumbria, is a Fellow of the Higher Education Academy, and Head of Music at the University of Hull. He was the Deputy Dean, then Associate Principal of the University of Hull between 2009 and 2013. He is editor of the Journal of Music, Technology and Education. His research interests examine the use of technology in the music curriculum. He is particularly interested in the recording studio with an emphasis on the phenomenological aspects of production. He has worked as a professional recording engineer for the BBC. Eleni Lapidaki is Professor of Music Education at the Aristotle University of Thessaloniki (Greece). After piano studies at the State Conservatory of Thessaloniki and the Hochschule für Musik, Freiburg (Germany), she received a law diploma from the Aristotle University of Thessaloniki, a master of music education from the School of Music, Ohio State University, and a PhD in music education from the School of Music, Northwestern University. Her doctoral dissertation was awarded “Outstanding Dissertation Award of the Year” by the Council for Research in Music Education (United States). Her research concerns a closer examination of interactions among philosophies of music education, music creativity, higher arts education, and social justice. She serves on the editorial boards of Music Education Research and the International Journal of Music Education. She is the founder of the interdisciplinary research project C.A.L.M. (Community Action in Learning Music). She is a recipient of the Award for Academic and Scientific Excellence in Greek Universities. Felicity Laurence  is founder and former director of the master’s program in music and education at Newcastle University, United Kingdom, and has a long international career as teacher, composer (both commissioned and with assignments as composer-​in-​residence), and children’s singing specialist. Her work is underpinned by the principles of children’s inherent musicality, and their likewise innate senses of quality and of empathy. Her research explores conceptual resonances between

Contributors

xi

musicking and empathy, both within children’s school music education, and within intercultural contexts, and includes attention to children’s voice and agency. Her published work includes musical compositions, and texts about children’s singing, music and empathy, and musicking in the context of peace building. Samuel Leong,  PhD, is Professor and Deputy Director (Academic Programmes & Educational Innovation) at The Hong Kong Academy for Performing Arts. He has served as Director of the UNESCO Observatory for Research in Local Cultures and Creativity in Education, Director of Research for the International Drama/​Theatre Education Association, and Professor of Interdisciplinary Arts at the Education University of Hong Kong. A  contributor to over 100 publications, including the Journal of Computer Assisted Learning, Educational Psychology, Routledge International Handbook on Intercultural Arts Research, and Technology, Pedagogy and Education, his recent research projects focus on Chinese creativity and innovative technology-​enhanced pedagogy for the performing arts. Bo Wah Leung  is currently Professor and Head of the Department of Cultural and Creative Arts, and Associate Dean (Quality Assurance & Enhancement) of the Faculty of Liberal Arts & Social Sciences at The Education University of Hong Kong (EdUHK). He received the prestigious Musical Rights Award from the International Music Council and the Knowledge Transfer Award from the HKIEd in 2012 for his leadership in a research project entitled “Collaborative Project on Teaching Cantonese Opera in Primary and Secondary Schools.” His Chinese book, Teaching Creative Music Making: New Trend for the New Century (Excellence Pub., 2005), is Hong Kong’s first publication of creativity in music teaching and learning. A revised version of this book has been published in Beijing, tackling the music curriculum reform of mainland China (People’s Music Publisher, 2014). His edited book, Creative Arts in Education and Culture: Perspectives from Greater China (Springer, 2013) features the development of creative arts in the transforming region influencing the globe. Professor Leung is at present Board Member of Asia-​ Pacific Symposium for Music Education Research (APSMER), and coeditor of the eminent International Journal of Music Education and Asia-​Pacific Journal for Arts Education. He was elected thrice as a Board Member of the International Society for Music Education (ISME), and was the Chair of the Music in Schools and Teacher Education Commission, and Co-​chair of the Research Commission of ISME. Alagi Mbye  is a Jali, born to be musician, in the casted system of the Mandinka culture in Gambia. He has been involved in the development of the course “Studies in the music of a foreign culture—​Gambia” at the Malmö Academy of Music, since the very beginning in 1991, and has a deep experience of cultural exchange through a wide range of projects. In 1998, he opened Maalis Music School in Nema Kunku, a little village in Gambia. This school is unique, since it is open to all children, not only those belonging to a Jali family. He is an excellent kora player, who blends his traditional knowledge with a strong vision to change and thereby make his heritage

xiiContributors sustainable in a modern world. He regularly tours in Sweden and Norway and has made CD recordings with some of the leading folk musicians in Scandinavia. Gary E. McPherson  studied music education at the Sydney Conservatorium of Music, before completing a master of music education at Indiana University, a doctorate of philosophy at the University of Sydney, and a Licentiate and Fellowship in trumpet performance through Trinity College, London. He is the Ormond Professor and Director of the Melbourne Conservatorium of Music at the University of Melbourne, and has served as National President of the Australian Society for Music Education and President of the International Society for Music Education. His research interests are broad and his approach interdisciplinary. His most important research examines the acquisition and development of musical competence, and motivation to engage and participate in music from novice to expert levels. With a particular interest in the acquisition of visual, aural, and creative performance skills, he has attempted to understand more precisely how music students become sufficiently motivated and self-​regulated to achieve at the highest level. Ross Purves  is now deputy program leader for the BA (Hons) Education Studies degree at De Montfort University, Leicester, United Kingdom. He teaches modules in music and arts education, educational computer programming, and technology. At the time of writing his contribution to this volume, he was Joint Course Manager for Music at a large 16–​19 college and also served as Subject Coordinator for Music on a secondary school-​based initial teacher education program. His research interests relate to the use of geospatial analysis to assess musical and educational inclusion. He is also interested in the history of English instrumental teaching, teacher education, and the early careers trajectories of teachers. Publications embracing musicians’ and teachers’ professional development, music technology education, and aspects of human-​computer interaction have appeared in journals including the British Journal of Educational Research, British Journal of Educational Psychology, Issues in Technology, and Teacher Education and the Bulletin of the Council for Research in Music Education. Ross has presented research at many European education conferences and is an experienced performing musician and arranger. He currently serves on the Teachers Section Committee for the UK Musicians’ Union. Tal-​Chen Rabinowitch studied Psychology and Musicology at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, as well as Performing Arts at the Jerusalem Academy of Music and Dance (specializing in the flute). She has a master’s degree in Music Cognition from the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, and a PhD in Music from the University of Cambridge, where she studied the relationship between music and empathy, demonstrating that regular participation of children in musical group interaction sessions can potentially increase their capacity for emotional empathy. She is currently a postdoctoral fellow at the Institute for Learning & Brain Sciences, at the University of Washington. Her research examines the connections between music, synchrony, and emotional and social interaction in toddlers and young children.

Contributors

xiii

S. Alex Ruthmann  studied music and technology at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, before completing M.M.  and PhD degrees at Oakland University in music education. He is Associate Professor of Music Education and Music Technology, and Director of the Music Experience Design Lab (MusEDLab) at NYU Steinhardt in New York City, where he teaches graduate and undergraduate courses at the intersection of music education, technology, design, and entrepreneurship. He is a Past President of the Association for Technology in Music Instruction and Past Chair of the Creativity special research interest group of the Society for Research in Music Education. He currently serves as Associate Editor of the Journal of Music, Technology and Education, and on the editorial/​advisory boards of the British Journal of Music Education and the Journal of Popular Music Education. He is coeditor of the Oxford Handbook of Technology and Music Education, and coeditor of the Routledge Companion to Music, Technology, and Education. His current research explores the collaborative design of new technologies and experiences for music-​making, learning, and engagement. Eva Sæther  is professor in Music Education with Educational Sciences as profile. With a musical point of departure in Swedish traditional fiddle music, she has developed a research profile that focuses on intercultural perspectives on musical learning and creativity(ies). In 2003, she defended her doctoral thesis “The Oral University. Attitudes to music teaching and learning in the Gambia”—​a research project that laid the foundation for further development of musically informed research methods. Further research interests are social sustainability and collaborative learning. She teaches educational sciences at the music teacher education program, and supervise students at graduate, master, and PhD levels. Since 2010, she coordinates the master courses in music education. Her international experience covers participation in international research projects and active involvement in International Society for Music Education (ISME) and the Music in Schools and Teacher Education Commission, where she was one of the commissioners (2008–​2014). She has been active in the international network Cultural Diversity in Music Education (CDIME) since its origins in the network Teaching World Music. Since 2015, she is docent at University of the Arts, Helsinki, and member of The International Advisory Board on the project “Global Visions Through Mobilizing Networks.” Jonathan Savage  is a Reader in Education at the Institute of Education, Manchester Metropolitan University. He has a PhD in Musicology from the University of East Anglia. He is currently working on the Innovative Technologies for an Engaging Classroom (iTEC) project, the largest pan-​European test of learning and teaching scenarios using ICT in more than 1,000 classrooms in 12 countries. His research interests include implementing new technologies in education, cross-​curricular approaches to teaching and learning, creativity, and assessment. He is also Managing Director of Ucan.tv (www.ucan.tv), a not-​for-​profit company that produces educational software and hardware including Sound2Picture, Sound2Game and

xivContributors Hand2Hand. Free Moodle courses are available at www.ucan.me.uk. Jonathan runs an active blog at www.jsavage.org.uk and can be followed on Twitter @jpjsavage. Reza Shayesteh  was born in Teheran 1961 and lives in exile since 1984. During the last 15  years, he has been teaching Persian music in Malmö, after having studied in the traditional way from Persian masters. He teaches a wide range of different instruments:  tar, setar, taf, tanboor, santour, tonbak, kamancheh, and song. He started and leads the music school at the Iranian–​Swedish association, but his expertise is also being used at the Malmö Academy of Music, where he contributes as a guest teacher at the folk music department and in intercultural projects. Reza Shayesteh plays an important role in the multicultural music life of Malmö. He is an active musician in Orient Flames ensemble, World Mix Orchestra, Malmö Symfoniorkester, the Middle Eastern ensemble, and Gol Riz ensemble. Petros Stagkos is Professor of European Law (Jean Monnet Chair of Human Rights), Faculty of Law, Aristotle University of Thessaloniki, and member of the European Committee of Social Rights, Council of Europe, Strasbourg (France). He holds a graduate diploma from the School of Law, Aristotle University of Thessaloniki, a postgraduate diploma (Diplôme d’Études Supérieures) in public law and a doctorate (Doctorat d’État) in law from the Faculty of Law, Dijon University (France). His publications focus on the thematic areas of the European and Greek law of fundamental rights and European and national anti-​discrimination law. He is senior expert of the Greek branch of legal experts’ network in the EU Fundamental Rights Agency, Vienna. He is a member of the interdisciplinary team of the research project C.A.L.M. (Community Action in Learning Music) that aims to democratize music education through an ongoing process of communal engagement between the university and “high-​risk” schools. Matthew D. Thibeault studied music education and psychology at Florida State University before completing MA and PhD degrees at Stanford University in Curriculum Studies in Arts Education. He is Associate Professor of Music Education at the Education University of Hong Kong. During 2012–​2013, he was a Faculty Fellow at the Illinois Program for Research in the Humanities, and in 2013 he was named Outstanding Emerging Researcher by the Suncoast Music Education Research Symposium at the University of South Florida. He is also chair of the Philosophy Special Interest Research Group for the National Association for Music Education (United States). Thibeault is on the editorial board for numerous journals and publishes widely in the areas of technology, media, and participatory music. He previously taught in public schools as K-​3 music specialist for the Portola Valley School District, at the School of the Arts in San Francisco, and at a University Laboratory school in Toyama, Japan. Evan S. Tobias  studied music education at the Crane School of Music at State University of New  York, Potsdam, before completing M.M.  and PhD degrees in music education at Northwestern University. He is Assistant Professor of Music Education at Arizona State University, where he teaches both undergraduate and

Contributors

xv

graduate courses and heads the Consortium for Digital, Popular, and Participatory Culture in Music Education, which he founded in 2009. He also serves as a faculty member of the Herberger Institute for Design and the Arts Digital Culture Initiative. Prior to his appointment at ASU, he taught a technology in music education course at DePaul University and middle school instrumental and general music in New York. His research focuses on creative uses of technology, issues of social justice, expanding beyond traditional music curricula, and approaches to integrating popular culture and music in music classrooms. Carole Waugh completed her doctorate study at the Faculty of Education, University of Cambridge. Her research focused on how teachers use student consultation strategies to inform the development of their classroom assessment practices. Her research interests lie in exploring students’ and teachers’ use of classroom assessment, with particular emphasis on their use of assessment of learning strategies when preparing for high stakes summative testing in the 14–​19 sector. She currently works for a leading assessment body and has particular interest in the assessment of twenty-​first-​century skills. Prior to this, she worked as a classroom teacher for 17 years. Graham F. Welch holds the University College London (UCL) Institute of Education Established Chair of Music Education. He is elected Chair of the internationally based Society for Education, Music and Psychology Research (SEMPRE), a former President of the International Society for Music Education (ISME), and past co-​chair of the Research Commission of ISME. Current Visiting Professorships include the Universities of Queensland (Australia), Guildhall School of Music and Drama, and Liverpool (United Kingdom). He is an ex-​member of the UK Arts and Humanities Research Council’s (AHRC) Review College for music and has been a specialist consultant for Government departments and agencies in the United Kingdom, Italy, Sweden, the United States, Ukraine, the UAE, South Africa, and Argentina. Publications number over 350 and embrace musical development and music education, teacher education, the psychology of music, singing and voice science, and music in special education and disability. Publications are in English, Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, Swedish, Greek, Japanese, and Chinese.

Introduction to Volume 5 Since 2012, when the Oxford Handbook of Music Education (OHME) was first published, it has offered a comprehensive overview of many facets of musical experience in relation to behavior and development within educational or educative contexts, broadly conceived. These contexts may be formal (such as in schools, music studios), nonformal (such as in structured community settings), or informal (such as making music with friends and family), or somewhat incidental to another activity (such as travelling in a car, walking through a shopping mall, watching a television advert, or playing with a toy). Nevertheless, despite this contextual diversity, they are educational in the sense that our myriad sonic experiences accumulate from the earliest months of life to foster our facility for making sense of the sound worlds in which we live.

Creativities, Technologies, and Media in Music Learning and Teaching: An Oxford Handbook of Music Education Creativities, Technologies, and Media in Music Learning and Teaching includes the fourth, fifth, and sixth parts of Volume 2 from the original OHME. Importantly, all chapters have been updated and refined to fit the context of this new specialist volume title. Part  1 (Musical Creativity as Practice) reviews notions of musical creativity with the aim of examining practice-​based perspectives to support and develop our understanding of the many different types of creativity that can be found internationally within music education practice. As Pamela Burnard explains, the section challenges conceptions of musical creativity that are focused on individual processes. Instead, she and her colleagues advocate a much broader conception that shows how music educators can develop assessment structures and teaching practices that accommodate musical creativity as a social process in ways that can be profoundly meaningful for learners and extremely beneficial to their musical development. The second and third Parts of this volume cover the topics of Music Learning and Teaching Through Technology and Media, Music, and Education. Chapters in

xviii

Introduction To Volume 5

these two Parts recognize how essential technology is or can be in musical discourse and various forms of musical learning. Both Section Editors—​Evangelos Himonides and Matthew D.  Thibeault—​encourage readers to assess their own personal attitudes as they think about the transformative change that is occurring within the discipline as a result of new technology and rapid advances and changes in media. Such diversity of practice and opportunity provides hints into some of the many ways that music education will evolve and grow in the future with and through the use of technology and influence of the media. The dynamic nature of this change is something that all music educators should celebrate. As readers work through these updated mini-​volumes of the original OHME, they will come into contact with very recent evidence-​based reflections on a number of key issues that have emerged within the profession. We hope that they will be able to utilize the ideas presented to update and redefine their own thinking and to sharpen their understanding of the ways that they can foster particular musical behaviors. In today’s media-​infused communities, technology provides instant access to different musical worlds, and so we are likely to encounter diverse music in many different contexts. For this reason, we hope that our readers will agree that the diversity and power of music education, wherever it occurs, whether within or without the formal world of nurseries, schools, colleges, individual music studios, or even over the Internet, is something that deserves to be celebrated. As Creativities, Technologies, and Media in Music Learning and Teaching shows, music is a characteristic of our humanity. Across the world, individuals are enjoying music, with many striving to learn and to share the power and uniqueness of music with others. Music education has the power to allow us all to reach our musical potential and maximize our birthright. We therefore encourage readers to draw on the extraordinary evidence base that characterizes the content of this specialist volume from the original OHME. We take this opportunity to thank the various representatives of Oxford University Press. In particular, we are especially grateful to the OUP Commissioning Editor, Suzanne Ryan, for her enthusiasm about updating all chapters and publishing the OHME in five new specialist volumes. Very special thanks should be attributed to our three Part Editors, Pamela Burnard (Part 1), Evangelos Himonides (Part 2) and Matthew D. Thibeault (Part 3) who enthusiastically took responsibility for their specialist area of this volume. We are grateful for their hard work ensuring that each chapter within their part fits the mission of this volume, which was to help update and redefine music education internationally. Now that all of the authors can see their contributions in the context of this new volume, we hope that they will agree that our journey together continues to be worthwhile. We hope also, that our readers enjoy the fruits of our labor. Gary E. McPherson and Graham F. Welch Chief Editors March, 2017

C R E AT I V I T I E S , TECHNOLOGIES, A N D M E D IA IN MUSIC LEARNING AND TEACHING

Part 1

MUSICAL CREATIVITY AS PRACTICE Part Editor Pamela Burnard

Chapter 1

COMMENTARY: MUSICAL CREATIVITY AS PRACTICE Pamela Burnard

Musical creativities—​broadly construed as the exemplary locus of diverse forms of authorship, mediating modalities, and practice principles—​manifest as some of the most prominent yet notoriously contentious phenomena produced in the “fields”1 of music, music education and music education research. Arguably the locus of highest value,2 and integrally tied to historical conceptions linking the individual, society, and culture, the literature on “musical creativity” largely profiles professional musicians and composers, across high and popular cultures. Nevertheless, the general situation is far from clear. From the perspective of students and teachers, the challenge of narrowly construed conceptions of “musical creativity” can be attributed to it being an emerging field of theory and research, and one for which definitions are not only elusive but also contested and confused. Another challenge is the tension between the aspiration to teach students about changing forms of musical creativity on the one hand and on the other the demands made of teachers working in technical standards-​driven education who have yet to address the issue of assessing musical creativity directly.3 In this context we begin to grasp some of the most enduring assumptions and canonical challenges that are built into our language and that have shaped policy and practice in music creativity in educational systems. For example, consider the iconic status of “composition,” the reigning focus of the great composers and composition-​based approaches to music; whereas, in fact, most of the world’s traditional musics, as with the globally spatialized internet forms,4 have not originated through formal acts of “composition.” In order

4

Pamela Burnard

to demythologize the scholarly rhetoric, we need to recognize that it is all a human construction, the product of culture, and accordingly varies from time to time and place to place (Burnard, 2012, Burnard et al., 2015; Burnard, 2013; Burnard & Haddon, 2015; Burnard et al., 2015; Burnard et al., 2016). The literature also profiles the assumption that an individual adult’s conception of musical creativity may be quite different from what a child or adolescent experiences. Unsurprisingly, young people’s conceptions of musical creativity are shaped by the more general process of enculturation through a range of media, through the internet, and in the social contexts in which creative activity takes place as performance practices, realized and remixed in their own right; this may or may not be specific to, or situated in, the worlds of formal music education. My purpose in this opening commentary is to critically review our notion of musical creativity, to contemporarise and expand the concept of musical “creativities” and propose a practice-​based perspective for understanding the variegated types of musical creativities featured by contributors. That being so, I  shall begin with three vignettes showing how different types of creativity in music are rendered differently in different contexts; I  ask, in turn, that every reader test everything that I have to say against his or her own experience. Where the forms of musical creativity are embodied in lifeworld contexts of experiencing “music,” the central issue is how the field of music education applies its own laws of functioning to specific forms of practice, methods, and principles of evaluation of both practice and work produced more broadly in the field of “musicking.”5 What follows are three vignettes, each grounded in lifeworld contexts of distinct forms of creativity in music. Each vignette provides a glimpse, as insightfully explained by Bourdieu in his theory of practice, of “a modus operandi informing all thought and action”; practices are “variably constituted by the fields within which their work is disseminated,” each with its own status, schemes of action, orientations, rules, and code of behavior. Each vignette can be broken down “into individual positions, steps, or moves, practices which integrate all these artificially isolated elementary units of behavior into the unity of an organized activity” (1977, p.18); each practice is characterized by the same defining structural logic of differentiation existent in the field, including its links with other fields.

Vignette 1: The Creativity of the (Mythical) Lone Genius Imagine you’ve been asked to give an account of your first experience of live opera. Your account details a performance of Wagner’s final epic opera Parsifal, which infamously invokes the “total artwork” (or Gesamtkunstwerk) and grandness of the poetic, visual, musical, and dramatic arts, staged and framed by time, space, and

Commentary: Musical Creativity as Practice

5

spectacle. You provide an “idealized” description of the splendor of the costumes and the sets, the creative expression of “pure” music, which brings more fulfillment than suffering, and you recall how the boxes were arranged primarily to allow you to view one another rather than the stage. All of this impressed you. You recall every detail about the set, its magnificence and complex layers of meaning, and what it was to be part of an audience in the opera house. You paid for a “box” seat—​ historically, solely an aristocratic preserve and allocated strictly according to rank—​ and felt delirious with excitement, desiring only to listen with respectful attention; a listening attitude that is, of course, appropriate to “serious” music and shows secular devotion toward the pose of heroic individualism in the Romantic artist. You recollect how the canonical work of opera left you reeling from the valued traditions of such high-​level creativity, itself a function of the Romantic legacy. You reflect on the extraordinary creativity of the composer and the cult of the musical genius. You ponder the relationship of the composer to the wider community; the separation of professional composer from “passive” audience and the range of performance practices that have been legitimated by history; the status of Wagner’s works, the fixed roles of conductor, orchestra, diva, and how they are all wedded to traditional beliefs underpinned by individualistic assumptions about musical creativity. You ascribe a lot of importance to your knowledge of opera. You speak of the laws of reason, the laws of musical creativity of the period of the nineteenth century, and the diverse subjectivities that emerge from a complex fusion of art forms born and developed within an immutable cultural tradition.

Vignette 2: The Creativity of Cultural Production Imagine you’ve been asked to give an account of your first experience of the mega-​ seller songwriter and performing artist Madonna in a live performance at one of her sellout world tour concerts. The venue is a football stadium. This is a women who has built up a brilliant and durable career and made more money than can be imagined from promoting an image that illustrates how individual and collective identities are constructed and lived out. Your account details her brand, her singing, and her songwriting skills, and you reflect on her ability to constantly reinvent her persona, moving creatively and innovatively through several distinct images, a process that is a necessary part of ensuring her enduring star status. You reflect on the Madonna phenomenon of the 1980s, with her charismatic personality and captivating stage presence, her sexuality and creative character; on how Madonna “wannabes,” with peroxide hair, 1950s sunglasses, and frilly pink dresses and clutching Madonna posters, were prominent among the 77,000-​strong crowd at the London Wembley Stadium; a scene that attracts a range of subcultures all of which express new ways of

6

Pamela Burnard

understanding and identifying the relationship between musical taste and identity. In dressing like her, they took on the success and glamour Madonna symbolizes, while identifying with her projected values of rebellion against parental authority. You recall the creative endeavors situated and offered up by a visceral spectacle with an army of professionals supporting the cultural production of meaning that shaped your experience. It is demonstrably a collective enterprise, where promoters, record companies, organizations, designers, producers, and all the creative agents involved in the production are subsumed within the cultural parameters of the domain and the social experiences of the field of popular music.

Vignette 3: The Creativity of the Technosphere The third experience involves clubbing and the “vibe” at a hardcore techno-​house in a city center club in London. You feel comfortable in this club space and fit in with the club culture in a venue that glows in the dark with canvases of surreal landscapes with rising suns and psychedelic snakes. The crowd looks pretty homogenous. They are mostly dressed in a version of the acid house uniform of T-​shirts, baggy jeans, and kickers boots. You feel like you belong. You dance to a collage of hip-​hop, rap, and urban dance music. It feels cool to dance to music that features (re)constructed repertoires from mixing and downloading internet files conceptualized, gained, shared, and evaluated within the social context in which they musically live. You meet and interact with a practice based around “beats,” that is, musical collages composed of brief segments of recorded sound and dialogue between different points of view. You recognize cuts from unlikely records. This is a technologically informed creative process of hip-​hop that takes place in a social context of sound reproduction technology that makes an impression on you. You’re transfixed by the complexity of community and interaction and the style mixing involved in its production, made possible with the development of new technologies that lead to different forms of creativity. You engage with a variety of different musical moods by moving between different rooms or floors. The club stages a number of parallel events and as a frequent clubgoer you feel free to move between these events as you please. This makes “clubbing” less of a singularly definable activity and more of a series of fragmented, temporal experiences. Different music plays on different floors. There’s a cafe room that plays hip-​hop and jazz and then there’s another room that has singing of house music; then there’s the techno music with a sort of trance techno played upstairs. It feels entirely new, or at least a different type of creativity, which is shaped by practices involving digital recording and sound storage, and the downloading of mp3 files sampled from the internet. The club scene offers a critical space for the young consumer to make choices in terms of what kinds of music is appropriated, how the music is lived out, and what it stands for. It is the enabling

Commentary: Musical Creativity as Practice

7

context of creative and innovative action of a field in which the cultural parameters of the domain are mediated by the production and consumption of music.

How Diverse Forms of Creativity in Music Become the Locus of Significant Practices At the opera, the image of the individual composer as a “lone artist,” as the genius, dominates. In the constellation of mainstream popular practices, what there is to hear determines what people want to hear, and what people want to hear determines what there is to hear. The street remix, as with the website “ccmixter” (see the Creative Commons website, http://​www.ccmixter.org), draws in the relationships between different musics, all of which exemplify and contribute to a composite of creative performance practices:  all bear agency, all contribute to the ontology of the practice; all encompass realities of a social connectedness, a collective identity, and its translation in each location, produced in the intimate interaction of performer and crowd. It’s all about how the music derives from a continuous circuit of mediations and translations of human-​machine interaction that renders the music creative; there is no original and no copy, only rapidly proliferating, variant versions. The creativity is the locus of significant practices. The practices position the musical creativity within different experiential interests and discourses. Foucault (1972) delineates discourses as “practices which form the objects of which they speak.” Discourse constructs the topic. Discourse influences how ideas are put into practice. Discourses are practices. Our focus is, therefore, those discourses and practices. The practice perspective has a particular orientation that is quite different from previous musical creativity research because the concept of “practice” is perceived differently and orients people to who, where, and when they engage and how they construct forms of musical creativity. Thus, musical creativity is taken up by each contributor: this adds a new perspective to the critical debate about the possibility of generating new practices of musical creativity and the potential for engaging with multiple creativities in the field of music education.

A Case for Diverse Renderings of Multiple Creativities in Music We need to acknowledge that what renders creativity in music is changing, complex,6 and multifaceted. We know that what might be seen as being very creative

8

Pamela Burnard

indeed and at the forefront of new musical thought in one “field” (within a social system) and “domain” (within a cultural system), might not be seen as creative in another. But those who are assigned to make judgments about the originality of the many dimensions of music (teachers at the classroom level, governments at the system/​policy level, and experts at the cultural/​societal level) find that doing so is not straightforward because development and innovation are unpredictable. Another reason why there is little coherence or agreement about how musical creativity is understood is because some musics are seen as going well beyond a single individual’s creativity and are very much a collective act, with creativity embodied (i.e., it can be seen) in its production and reproduction. A Bourdeuian view is that an individual acquires knowledge by being immersed in it via learning and experience and that the individual acquires a “feel for the game,” a “practical sense” (sens practique) that includes agents to act and react in specific situations in a manner that is not always calculated and that is not simply a question of conscious obedience to rules. Rather it is a set of dispositions which generates practices and perceptions. (Johnson in Bourdieu, 1993, p. 5 and in Burnard et al., 2015, p. 164)

It is not surprising, then, that the study of diverse musical creativities, an educational imperative in the field of comparative and international education,7 has been largely ignored. In the International Journal of Music Education, between 1966 and 2010, only 6% of articles dealt with the creativity category,8 as compared with nearly 42% of articles focused on the curriculum and learning category. We have yet to develop a model for the comparative analysis of the specific forms of authorship, mediating modalities, and practice principles underpinning the diverse diversity of creativities in music, let alone distinguish the universal in “musical creativity” from culturally specific influences on our thinking about aspects of musical creativity. Crucially, there is a necessity for documentation (in music education) of emerging practices. In what follows the central argument is for an expansion of the discourse on musical creativity in music education, linking it to the very nature of the creativities of music and music’s changing ontology.9 The contributors featured in Part  1 of this volume conceptualize distinctive types of musical creativity, which include intercultural creativity, empathic creativity, and collaborative and communal creativities. Accounts of how their respective practices led to distinctive forms of musical creativity arise from projects conducted in England, Ireland, the United States, Australia, Greece, Sweden, Hong Kong, China, Gambia, and the Netherlands. Key terms that reflect diverse practices and distinctive discourse (and possibly shifting ontological positions) include “mutuality,” “shared intentionality,” “self-​other sensitivity,” “synergizing relationships,” “social transformation,” and “dissociation” (see fig. 1.1) These terms differentiate what renders distinctive creativities in music in different sites of practice. The aim of this part of the volume is, therefore, to raise fundamental questions about (1)  the way we think about musical creativity, (2)  the kinds of creativities that emerge in practice that are culturally derived, (3) the cultural and intercultural

Commentary: Musical Creativity as Practice

9

Figure 1.1  Types of musical creativity and particularities of practice.

forces that bring about convergence and divergences in our practices, and (4) the values by which creativity as practice is informed. It is necessary at the outset to outline three related arguments that build across all of the chapters in this part of the volume. The first concerns how the concept of “practice” is immensely fertile because it operates on the same principles that unify a multiplicity of discrete works of art or acts across the cultural and social realities that influence our understanding of how musical creativity is experienced. The second argument is that distinctive “creativities of music”10 are comprehended only once one locates the practice because it provides a visible, unifying principle for all the experiences. The third is that this approach has value in highlighting affinities and shifts in the dominant historical forms of musical creativity. The chapters in this part of the volume provide evidence of changing forms of musical creativity.

10

Pamela Burnard

This part of the volume does not offer comparative enquiry, nor does it attempt to meet the challenge of comparative practices; it does, however, accommodate studies from across the world that cross the contexts and boundaries of microsystems, where children are directly involved, such as the home or the school (see ­chapter 2), to mesosystems, which reflect the relationships of homes, schools, and neighborhoods in partnerships (see ­chapter  6), and the macrosystem, which reflects the dominant beliefs of a particular culture, such as the belief in the value of creativity in music (see ­chapter 3). Here, Bronfenbrenner’s model (1979) describes how we conceptualize musical creativity as practice at different contextual levels and social forms. Using the concept of “practice” as an analytical category this part of the volume crosses the boundaries of space and time, transcending the particularity of context because forms of musical creativity are comprehended as practices. These practices embody purposes and values, and reflect assumptions about what knowledge and understanding are of most worth to the participants in the educational setting. Task, activity, interaction, and judgment become the building blocks of “practice” as it unfolds in a particular setting. The journey across this part of the volume provides evidence-​based practices situated in, and governed by, space, time, and purpose, in a range of educational settings. Part 1 of the volume includes a chapter (see ­chapter  5) that compares assessment practices at sites in England, Australia, and Hong Kong. With contributors from Europe (England, Sweden, Norway, Greece, the Netherlands), Asia (Australia, Hong Kong) Africa (Gambia), the Middle East (Iran), and the United States, what singles out these chapters from others in this volume that might focus on aspects of “musical creativity” is the unifying principle of a practice perspective. By examining the assumptions about musical creativity in diverse cultural sites of practice, we can take a first step in asking whether our own educational practices of musical creativity are justified. This is a first step because it enables us to be reflective and critical about the purpose of musical creativity and our role as music educators. The second step is to ask whether there are better ways of engaging in musical creativity in our teaching and learning. To this end, musical creativity is comprehended only once one locates practice.

Research Perspectives The argument for multiple creativities in music is informed by Csikszentmihalyi’s systems approach to creativity, which posits the ongoing operation of “a system composed of three elements: a culture (and microcultures or neo-​tribes)11 that contains symbolic rules, a person who brings novelty into the domain, and a field of experts who recognize and validate the innovation” (Csikszentmihalyi, 1999, p.  206). In Csikszentmihalyi’s Systems Model of Creativity (1999), the real-​world practices that inscribe different forms of musical creativity are defined by grounding norms that

Commentary: Musical Creativity as Practice

11

are constituted as practices within social, cultural, and activity systems.12 In other words, creativity matters to different people for different reasons. This systems model emphasizes the sociocultural factors that, consisting of judgments made by society, comprise the rules and practices set within the domain (a formal body of knowledge such as music) and selected by the field (as the society of experts who are familiar with the grammar of rules for a particular domain (as “garage” is a field in the domain of music). All of this converges and interacts with the individual’s creative endeavors. The systems model of diverse music creativities (see fig. 1.2) encourages us to look beyond the dominant discourse, to steer constantly back and forth between these circles (“culture,” “person,” and “field”). As Bourdieu suggests, “practice” is a consequence of “schemes of action and perception, which, never having been constituted as explicit principles, can only produce an unwilled necessity which is

Figure 1.2  Systems model of diverse music creativities.

12

Pamela Burnard

therefore necessarily imperfect but also a little miraculous” (1990:13). The practice of creativity, whether in the spaces of music-​making, music researching, teaching, or learning, is the locus for social, cultural, and activity systems. As such, creativity as practice becomes an embodied, living space for diverse renderings of creativities in music. The significance of this chapter is that it provides insight into how manifold forms of musical creativity are observable and are located as practice. The sites of practice featured across this part of the volume include sites in the school classroom, across the community, in cultural settings, in arts partnership organizations, and in teacher education programs. These sites of practice illustrate, as Bourdieu argued, that the ideas, values, and beliefs by which a practice arises involve schemes of action and perception, situated in and governed by space and time. Figure 1.2 provides a schematic diagram of the diverse practices of musical creativity as emerge across the confluence of three subsystems (the subsystems of domain, field and individuals are discussed later in this chapter) and feature in this part of the volume. Before introducing the contributors to this part of the volume and discussing how the practices have oriented particular individuals, groups or communities, arts partnerships and programs, we need to consider what we can learn from the literature about how “practice” engenders (and mediates) creativity and how “practice” can be a useful analytical category for making visible what renders diverse creativities in music. The problematic nature of musical creativity affects how it is studied as well. Values spill out untidily at every point in the analysis of musical creativity, and one of the abiding weaknesses of much mainstream research is that it tends to play down their significance in shaping and explaining observable practice. Depending on whether scholars are allied to psychology, sociology, or humanistic disciplines (such as art history, aesthetics, or criticism) they start from different premises. This extends to the ways they formulate questions related to musical creativity. Because the subject of research is itself a matter of debate between competing intellectual orientations, researchers differ among themselves in the ways they view society, social actors, and processes. Added to this lack of consensus is the problem that musical creativity is conceived differently and constructed differently in different historical practices. We know music creativity arises within and depends on the conventions (ways of doing something) and the legitimating frameworks of specific public activity—​such as the way composers and players use conventional patterns of melody, harmony, and rhythm to create emotional tension and release, and thus musical meaning. Whether within a particular kind of context in which the artist positions the output of creativity and creative action (such as Western classical, funk, rap, or reggae) or within the microcultures of the family, classroom, studio, street, or playground, the context for musical creativity arises from within different sites of practice by specific public activity and the application of tools, technologies, rules, and rituals.

Commentary: Musical Creativity as Practice

13

Research evidence is still patchy. Researchers use different paradigms to explore features of different types of musical creativity, often in isolation. As with general creativity, several literature reviews of musical creativity research exist. (See, for example, Burnard, 2013, 2012, 2007, 2006, and Hickey, 2002, for some reviews; Webster, 1992, for one of the earliest reviews; Deliège & Wiggins, 2006, for a comprehensive discussion interwoven with a distillation of literature in which “musical creativity” has been construed, constructed, and contested from early childhood through to adulthood.) They bring together musicians of various kinds and people in education, artificial intelligence, philosophy, sociology, psychology, neurosciences, and psychotherapy and provide a variety of perspectives, methods, and goals to examine music creativity. One of the first scholars to describe and develop a social perspective on creativity, Amabile illustrates the social influences on creative behavior. This perspective includes attention to the cognitive aspects, personality, motivation, and social influences on the creative process. Amabile is also the first to investigate how these factors influence the different steps in the creative process. For Amabile (1996) creativity is the creative production that emerges in a five-​step process, namely (1) problem or task identification; (2) preparation; (3) response generation; (4) response validation; and (5) outcome evaluation. Further, the creative process interacts with task motivation, domain-​relevant skills, and creativity-​relevant skills. The methods and criteria for assessing musical creativity and agreement on what constitutes domain-​relevant skills in music remain elusive and highly contested. The common ground among these social perspectives, however, is that they are based on the conviction that creativity is vital to all societies, to all fields, domains, and cultures, and should be investigated to reveal their complexity, diversity, and integral cultural location. Social perspectives on music education are not, as some have suggested, “just political”; they represent the lived meanings of musical culture and communities. Interestingly, both Csikszentmihalyi and the French sociologist and philosopher Pierre Bourdieu investigate the relationship between creativity and cultural evolution. Inspired by the process of species evolution, a “confluence” of three subsystems emerges. These are: (1) The domain, which includes a set of rules and practices. Any culture is composed of thousands of independent domains, and most human behaviors or activities are affected by the rules of some domains. (2) The individual is the most important subsystem from the psychological perspective. The individual makes a novel variation in the contents of the domain, and the variation will be evaluated by the third part of the system, which is the field. (3) Fields are held by various gatekeepers, such as experts and scholars, who have the rights to choose which variations can be preserved in the domains. Csikszentmihalyi (1999) takes the position that creativity means “the ability to add something new to the culture.” The creation by an individual must be “sanctioned by some group entitled to make decisions as to what should or should not be included in the domain” (p. 205). The sociopersonal perspective on creativity, as espoused by social psychologist Amabile (1996), suggests that creativity arises in all people, including children.

14

Pamela Burnard

Amabile provides us with a componential model of creativity in which a number of components converge. These include social environment, task motivation, and intrinsic/​extrinsic rewards, in conjunction with domain-​relevant skills (music aptitude, experience) and creativity-​relevant skills (fluency, flexibility, originality). In groundbreaking work, Hickey (2002) has newly adapted Amabile’s scheme and applied its tenets to creative musical thinking in the context of musical composition with children in the classroom. From this wellspring of ideas come new ways to view the musical creativity of children and young people. What remains unclear is what counts as specifically musical creativity in teaching and learning contexts in which it is conceived and communicated. Studies over many years have shown that creativity assessment is an important aspect of music education and that attention to improving creative practice can enhance the learners’ achievements and musical development. Both Webster (1992) and Hickey (2002) introduced ways of researching this. We have, however, yet to agree on the practice of assessing creativity in the field of music educational assessment, whether as practitioners, researchers, or policy-​makers. The entire process of creativity assessment depends on what criteria or measures are selected. These, in turn, are dictated by the answer to the fundamental question: If musical creativity exists, what matters in the assessment of musical creativities in music education? This question is addressed in ­chapter 5. Bringing all of this together, we see that there are a number of unanswered questions: Is there an ontology (or are there ontologies) of music creativity on which we might construct a theory of practice or practices? What if music creativity was no longer based on premises relating to composition and composing, performance and performing, and listening, and was understood, instead, in terms of specific practices? What are the indicators of a new proliferation of practices articulated within the discourses of creativity in music education?

Outline of Chapters That Follow in Part 1 Indeed, if we are to understand and acknowledge the situated forms of practice that constitute distinctive musical creativities, then we need to do more than present a context where rules of thumb shape daily practice. Rather, we should realize that practices do far more than provide information:  they also shape people’s understanding about what is important to musical creativity, what musical creativity is, and who learners are as contemporary musical creators. As John-​Steiner (2000) put forward in her theory of “family collaboration,” generative ideas emerge from joint thinking and from sustained, shared struggles to achieve new insights. This is precisely how the contributors of this part of this volume went about framing and

Commentary: Musical Creativity as Practice

15

structuring a shared focus on unlocking diverse modes of creativity: intercultural, empathic, communal, and collaborative. In this way the section offers unparalleled grounds for rethinking creativity itself. What follows in this part of the volume is focused on the ideas, concerns, issues, and assessment practices of multiple musical creativities. This part of the volume begins with the present chapter that challenges the domain’s dominant paradigm, which views musical creativity as an individualized process. The practice of empathic creativity is illustrated and theorized on in ­chapter  2 by colleagues Ian Cross (United Kingdom), Felicity Laurence (United Kingdom), and Tal-​Chen Rabinowitch (United States). Drawing heavily on theories from psychology and social psychology, they outline the sociality of empathic creativity, using accounts of structured musical group improvisation and collaborative song composition to illustrate empathic creativity as practice. The practice explores issues of shared intentionality, imitation, entrainment, disinterested pleasure, flexibility, and ambiguity. The emergence of empathy is illustrated by the use of music practices to enable young children to develop a sense of empathic community. Informed by the work of Russian philosopher and pedagogue Lev Vygotsky, intercultural creativity features dimensions that include process, interaction, and mutuality. In ­chapter 3, author Eva Saether (Sweden) and contributors Alagi Mbye (Gambia) and Reza Shayesteh (Iran) describe a particularly interesting approach, through border crossing and breaking down barriers, to creativity as culturally embedded practice. This chapter gives us privileged access to some of the ancient values of the Mandinka society involving acceptance, openness, exclusion, and inclusion. In the Gambian example it is the tension between exclusion and inclusion that acts as the catalyst to create something new. Intercultural creativity is established in cultural relationships using reflection and analysis, which gives clarity to the relationship between cultural meaning and creativity practices. Saether develops a theoretical framework for the practice of intercultural creativity by drawing on Vygosky’s concept of “dissociation” to describe how we, as human beings, need to break the natural association of elements to create new variations, with a view to understanding the past in relation to a possible future. In ­chapter 4, coauthors Eleni Lapidaki (Greece), Rokus de Groot, (Netherlands) and Petros Stagkos (Greece) provide an account of a practice of communal creativity, which is concerned with how university students work with high school students at “high-​risk” schools. The work illustrates how undergraduates implement the model of normal skilled practices accomplished in everyday life to enable the school children to be creative in music; they do this by developing practices that form the objects of which they speak: communities. The practice of communal creativity is lodged in the assumption that when we begin to explore creativity that arises in the mutuality of conversations, things begin to change. We are invited to reconceive the classroom as a subcommunity of mutual learners who adopt ways of developing real world practices in relation to contemporary social realities. Communal creativity is defined by grounding norms and has to do with the means by which

16

Pamela Burnard

university students are inducted in the ways of a “profession” and a mutual learning culture that fosters situated learning, agency, and collaboration. Turning to the context of creativity assessment practices, in c­ hapter  5 Samuel Leong (Hong Kong, China), Pamela Burnard, (United Kingdom), Neryl Jeanneret (Australia), Bo Wah Leung (Hong Kong, China), and Carole Waugh (United Kingdom) show evidence of a wide range of practices for assessing creativity in music from three international contexts. While forms of assessment (particularly the use of exemplar tasks) evidence commonalities, the historical, political, and cultural contexts do not. This is shown in the wide range of discourses and practices in which students’ creativity is positioned, regulated, judged, and valued in music assessment. The authors raise some of the professional issues with which music teachers and learners are confronted, largely those concerned with interpretation of children’s and student’s creative work. Teachers are concerned with getting their children or students to develop personal responses and conduct personal investigations; equally, however, teachers are expected to initiate students and children into conventional practices and techniques. In many ways these aims seem to be irreconcilable on the one hand but inevitable on the other. Is it possible to reconcile the idea of developing self-​expression and originality with cultural determinism? In their contribution on arts partnerships, c­hapter  6, Bernadette D.  Colley (United States), Randi Margrethe Eidsaa (Norway), Ailbhe Kenny (Ireland), and Bo Wah Leung (Hong Kong, China) describe separate projects in which young people come together with teachers to work together with artists. This chapter is infused with sociocultural dimensions of learning in music. It shows how the interrelationship between the individual, the subject discipline, and the context created by bringing artists into the educational sphere to work with children and students leads to collaborative creativity. All four projects are compositional and invite the writing and production of operas or choral-​orchestral works. The partnership practice is described as “a process” that underpins “a focused collaborative cultural venture synergizing relationships that likely would not have otherwise occurred, as shown in ­chapter 6. Practices are defined by grounding norms and the construction of partnerships. These are the means by which partners adopt and adapt particular cultural ideas and routines for collaboration. The partnership practice mediates collaborative creativity.

What Is Most Notable about a Practice Perspective? Part 1 of Volume 5 offers a unique opportunity to understand new ways of thinking about, and engaging, children and young people in contemporary forms of musical creativity. Each chapter demonstrates that creativity relates not to a fixed external referent in the world that exists prior to the process, but to the construction of a scheme of actions (i.e., a practice) that is socially and culturally mediated. Each

Commentary: Musical Creativity as Practice

17

chapter establishes both practical and theoretical grounds for the description of complex and innovative/​productive/​generative practices in creativity. The sites of practices involved a variety of settings as the locus of the musical creativity. Figure 1.2 illustrates the multiple modes of creativity in which practices were located and investigated, developed and applied. For the individual persons, such as teachers, learners, artists, and researchers involved who were familiar with the social expectations of the field and the cultural parameters of the domain (music), it was from the interdependence of the structures, the domain, and the field of music that the modes of creativity arose. The following chapters indicate that mapping the character of practices surrounding the creation and production of music requires the boundaries to be moved to acquire the breadth and depth needed for comprehensive enquiry. To better understand these practices, we need to invest more time and energy in research and in documenting and disseminating our findings to wider audiences. This is important, for the experiences we have in our studios, communities, organizations, institutions, and cultures are of the kind where mind and matter merge. Making and creating music remains an iterative and strategic encounter that comprises a creative coalition of individuals, ideas, and actions. It is messy, mindful, and magical. But it is not mysterious. Rather, it is an activity that requires us to work against those theoretical, social, and political boundaries imposed on music that keep it outside the mainstream of research and enquiry. We need to reimagine how creativity is rendered differently in different musical sites and take the opportunity to articulate what our practices of musical creativity have come to mean in our own personal and professional lives (through the processes of cocreating, cowitnessing, and coconstructing). We need to explore how existing practices favor Western art music and why educational practices in music have a tendency to be wedded to sociohistorical foundations, traditions, and restrictive beliefs (i.e., myths) about music creativity. While we are not advocating abandoning the traditions historically associated with musical creativity, we are suggesting that music creativity manifests itself differently in different spaces. It thus requires a different learning and teaching environment—​and assessment model—​than one in which outcomes are biased toward the security of tradition and specified practices, skills, and techniques. Moreover, as a group of researchers, musicians, and educators we must present our practice perspective on musical creativity and argue for the centrality of real-​world practices and against evaluation systems wedded to fixed pedagogic traditions. Reflecting on the manifold emergent practices of musical creativity, and their assessment, affords us an opportunity to develop new ideas and advance our visions of what musical creativity is and can be in the future. Another way we might represent such a framework, as shown in Figure 1.3, is to name or pin down (even measure) the characterising or defining features of diverse creativities. In the field of music education, we need to promote diverse creativities as practices that directly develop diverse forms of authorship, practice principles, and

18

Pamela Burnard

Figure 1.3  Identifying and distinguishing the diversity of multiple creativities.

mediating modalities such as the technological and temporal dimensions that characterize contemporary practices. In doing so, we need to play down individualistic approaches wedded to sociohistorical foundations and traditional beliefs (which tend to be independent and autonomous from other fields of music). Our practices need to promote the power of relationships over individual minds, multiple worlds over singular realities, collaborative interdependence over individual heroism, and dialogue over alienation.

Reflective Questions

1. How do communal and collaborative, empathic and intercultural creativities in music interact and feed each other? Can people be trained

Commentary: Musical Creativity as Practice



19

in these forms of creativity? How can we promote and develop distinctive forms of musical creativity in music education? 2. How do individual identity and group identity develop within a practice perspective for music creativity in education? 3. What are the problems that teachers face in the practice and assessment of distinct forms of creativity? 4. The route that is taken for assessment might well depend on one further question: What (or for whom) is the assessment for?

WEBSITES See the Creative Commons website, http://​www.ccmixter.org, for the relationships between different musics, all of which exemplify and contribute to a composite of creative and performance practices. See the Building of Bridges Across Cultures and Creativities website http://​www.bibacc.org for more information on intercultural creativity, interdisciplinary creativity, STEAM creativity, and gendered creativity plus more.

NOTES 1. The concept of “field” is informed by Csikszentmihalyi (1999), who advocates a systems model of creativity, which is best understood as a confluence of three factors: “domain,” which includes knowledge, values, a set of rules and practices; “individual,” who makes a novel variation in the contents of the domain; and “field,” which involves a community of practice that is held by gatekeepers such as experts and scholars; traditionally, in music education, it is teachers who control the knowledge within the domain of music. In The Field of Cultural Production (1993) Bourdieu describes the idea of field as consisting of a “separate social universe having its own laws of functioning” (p. 162). A field is made up of specific forms of practice, methods, and principles of evaluation of both practice and work produced in the field. 2. Certainly from the perspective of the dominant discourses, as argued by Becker in Art Worlds (1984), Christopher Small in Musicking (1998), and Cook in Music: A Very Short Introduction (1998), among others. 3. We have yet to align the definition of musical creativity and its value in the curriculum with its teaching and assessment (as reported in ­chapter 5). 4. Globally spatialized internet forms include digital and mobile music, their social networks, and the fluid roles in contemporary popular musics between musicians, DJs, and audience. See the website “ccmixter,” for example, which declares itself “a music sharing site featuring songs licensed under Creative Commons where you can listen to, sample, mash-​up or interact with music in whatever way you want . . . [and then] upload your version for others to . . . re-​sample” (http://​www.ccmixter.org, accessed March 2010. See also Eric Whitacre’s Virtual Choir (http://​www.ted.com/​talks/​a_​

20

Pamela Burnard

choir_​as_​big_​as_​the_​internet.html, filmed March 2010, posted April 2010) involving 185 voices from 12 countries that join a choir that spans the globe: “Lux Aurumque,” composed and conducted by Eric Whitacre, merges hundreds of tracks individually recorded and posted to YouTube. It’s an astonishing illustration of how technology can connect us. What we also see is the use of YouTube as a means for pooling talent, getting free audio feed without having to call auditions locally and pay for professional talent to make a recording. 5. “Musicking” is a term coined by Christopher Small that encompasses all musical activity from composing to performing to listening to an mp3 player to singing in or along with a band or choir. 6. We know which musics retain the power to fascinate audiences through centuries, why some musical structures engage our creative capacities as listeners and others don’t; but the boundaries of individual and collective authorship have blurred, and we need to understand why the practice of improvised electronic musics is considered creative in one context, while in another context it is not. 7. The field concerns the distinctive features of, and relationships between, comparative education and international education. The fundamental characteristic of comparative education is comparison (e.g., cross-​national and within-​countries comparison). International education, in contrast, by definition requires a crossing of national boundaries in which practitioners and scholars undertake research on educational work in countries other than their own. 8. The creativity category included “composition, compositions, composing, composers, improvisation, original.” The curriculum, learning, and culture category included “teachers, teacher education, training, pedagogy/​teaching, learners/​students, multicultural, intercultural, cross-​cultural.” 9. Ontology is the study of the nature of being. The shift from a realist ontology (which sees reality as something which exists “out there”) to a “relativist” ontology (which sees multiple realities existing as personal and social constructions) is characteristic of how we come to understand multiple music creativities. 10. “Creativities of music” was a phrase first coined by Bj·rn H. Merker (2006, p.25) in expression of the argument that “musical creativity cannot be defined without reference to the diversity of performance-​based forms of creativity.” 11. Terms used by Andy Bennett to describe the sociological study of the relationship between youth, music, style, and identity (see Bennett, 1999). 12. I have included “activity systems” as a newly introduced dimension involving individuals or subgroups who challenge the assumptions and norms of previous practice by means of “reflective appropriation of models and tools for working on an object, raw material or problem space at which the [musical] activity is directed” (Engeström, 1993, p. 240).

REFERENCES Amabile, T. M. (1996). Creativity in context: Update to “The social psychology of creativity.” Boulder, CO: Westview Press. Bennett, A. (1999). Sub-​cultures or neo-​tribes? Sociology, 33(3), 599–​617. Bourdieu, P. (1977). Outline of a theory of practice. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Commentary: Musical Creativity as Practice

21

Bourdieu, P. (1993). The field of cultural production (ed. R. Johnson). New York: Columbia University Press. Bourdieu, P. (1990). The logic of practice. Cambridge: Polity Press. Bronfenbrenner, U. (1979). The ecology of human development: Experiments by nature and design. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Burnard, P. (2006). The individual and social worlds of children’s creativity. In G. E. McPherson (ed.), The child musician (pp. 353–​375). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Burnard, P. (2007). Routes to understanding musical creativity. In L. Bresler (ed.), International handbook of research in arts education (pp. 1199–​1212). Dordrecht: Springer. Burnard, P. (2012). Musical creativities in practice. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Burnard, P. (2013). Developing musical creativities in higher music education: international perspectives and practices. London: Routledge. Burnard, P., & Haddon, L. (eds.). (2015). Activating diverse musical creativities: teaching and learning in higher music education. London: Bloomsbury. Burnard, P., Hassler, L., Murphy, L., & deJong, L. (2015). The imperative of diverse musical creativities as practices of social justice. In C. Benedict., P. Schmidt., G. Spruce, & P. Woodford (eds.) The Oxford companion to social justice and music education. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Burnard, P., Hofvander Trulsson, Y., & Soderman, J. (2015) (eds.) Bourdieu and the sociology of music, music education and research. Aldershot, Hants: Ashgate. Burnard, P., Mackinlay, E., & Powell, K. (eds.). (2016) The Routledge international handbook of intercultural arts research. London: Routledge. Csikszentmihalyi, M. (1999). Implications of a systems perspective for the study of creativity. In R. J. Sternberg (ed.), Handbook of creativity (pp.313–​388). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Deliège, I., & Wiggins, G. A. (eds.). (2006). Musical creativity: Multidisciplinary research in theory and practice. New York: Psychology Press. Engeström, Y. (1993). Developmental studies of work as a testbench of activity theory. In S. Chaiklin and J. Lave (eds.), Understanding practice:  Perspectives on activity and context (pp. 64–​103). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Foucault, M. (1972). The archaeology of knowledge. London: Tavistock. Hickey, M. (2002). Creativity research in music, visual art, theatre and dance. In R. Colwell & C. Richardson (eds.), The new handbook of research on music teaching and learning (pp. 398–​415). Oxford: Oxford University Press. John-​Steiner, V. (2000). Creative collaborations. New York: Oxford University Press. Merker, B.Y. (2006). Layered constraints on the multiple creativities of music. In I. Deliège & G. A. Wiggins (eds.), Musical creativity: Multidisciplinary research in theory and practice (pp. 25–​41). New York: Psychology Press. Small, C. (1998). Musicking:  The meanings of performing and listening. Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press. Webster, P. R. (1992). Research on creative thinking in music:  The assessment literature. In R. Colwell (ed.), Handbook of research on music teaching and learning (pp. 266–​280). New York: Schirmer Books.

Chapter 2

EMPATHY AND CREATIVITY IN GROUP MUSICAL PRACTICES: TOWARDS A CONCEPT OF EMPATHIC CREATIVITY Ian Cross, Felicity Laurence, and Tal-​Chen Rabinowitch

In this chapter we shall explore the idea of empathy in creative musical interaction, sketching an initial theoretical framework for the concept of “empathic creativity” and outlining empirical work conducted by two of us that illustrates and provides support for the theory that is developed. We start by investigating the relationships between empathy—​the ability to have emotional and experiential responses to the situations of others that approximate to their responses and experiences, understood as motivated by their internal states (Lieberman, 2007, p.  264)—​and engagement in creative group musical activities. We shall describe the ways the concept of empathy is related to processes that have been identified in contemporary cognitive sciences as significant in social interaction; these processes may be either automatic or volitional, reflectively rational or emotionally embodied. We then show how structured musical group

Empathy and Creativity in Group Musical Practices

23

improvisations that emphasize other-​directed behavior may help children in the development of a sense of empathy, allowing for the emergence of empathy through creative practice. We conclude by presenting a case study of empathic creativity in action, in the form of the collaborative composition of songs by an adult and a group of children.

Theoretical Framework and Key Principles Music is a profoundly social activity. From its earliest manifestations in the caregiver-​infant dyad to its mature expression, it involves interaction with the acts and intentions of other people. This is perhaps most evident in many traditional societies, where the dominant mode of engagement with music involves overt action and interaction. But even the apparently passive act of listening—​perhaps the dominant mode through which musicality is expressed in contemporary Western culture—​implicates the listener in engagement with traces of the behaviors, intentions and identities of performers, composers, producers, and other listeners. What type of social activity is music? An immediate answer would be “a communicative one.” But precisely what type of communication is involved in music? Human communication is dominated by the use of language, but, while music is surrounded by a web of discourse, it is not itself language nor does it seem expressible by means of words. Yet music seems inherently communicative. While it is unlike language in being unable to articulate propositions, it is certainly capable of expressing attitudes and conveying and eliciting emotions. At the same time, though music is lacking in the capacity to inform or compel—​it can be neither declarative nor imperative—​musical communication appears to involve and express a sense of togetherness, a phatic functionality that can be thought of as relatable to processes of social bonding (Cross & Woodruff, 2009). Music achieves this sense of togetherness not through processes of rational transaction, though these may play a role, but rather through embodied and affective—​emotional—​interaction. In this chapter, we explore the possibility that this sense of togetherness can be understood as arising from the actualization of empathic processes and states in the course of collective engagement in music-​making. The idea of empathy has a surprisingly short history in the Western intellectual tradition. The term was first coined in the work of Titchener in 1909, as his translation of the German concept of Einfühlung which denotes a concept of “feeling into” and whose original context was the field of German aesthetic theory. Once rendered into English, the term “empathy” was subsequently elaborated by a number of philosophers and aestheticians over the last century and, much more recently, in the cognitive sciences (see Stueber, 2008). Current theories of the behavioural and

24

Ian Cross, Felicity Laurence, and Tal-Chen Rabinowitch

cognitive processes concerned in social interaction recognize that it involves both “innate, automatic and cognitively impenetrable mechanisms, as well as acquired, contextual and volitional aspects that include self-​regulation” (Adolphs, 2003 p. 165). At the root of many of these automatic or reflexive (Lieberman, 2007) processes lie the systems that give rise to our emotions—​the states that regulate the ways body and mind can function effectively in uncertain and changing environments. The acquired and volitional mechanisms to which Adolphs refers include the capacity to plan our actions and to put ourselves into the position of others so as to infer their intentions and emotional states, processes that have been increasingly attributed to the workings of a “mirror neuron” system (see the excellent brief outline of research by Keysers, 2009). Our abilities to relate to others and to behave in ways appropriate to the social contexts in which we find ourselves derive from the complex interaction of these automatic and volitional mechanisms. One of the key components of our capacity for social interaction is this ability to “read the minds” of others. Many studies have shown that the ability accurately to attribute mental states to others emerges in the course of a child’s development, crystallizing by about the age of five, as the child increasingly acquires the ability to simulate or to imagine the experiences of others (Gopnik, 1999). The development of a full-​blown Theory of Mind (ToM) appears to be specific to humans (Tomasello et al., 2005) and lies at the heart of what Tomasello terms shared intentionality. This term refers to “collaborative interactions in which participants have a shared goal (shared commitment) and coordinated action roles for pursuing that shared goal” (p. 680). Shared intentionality requires individuals to be motivated to respond to each other—​to desire to engage socially with each other, to be able to mutually focus on shared goals, and to be able to coordinate plans and actions, for which each interacting individual needs to be able to adopt the perspectives of other interacting individuals. It has been proposed that shared intentionality is one of the key factors implicated in successful engagement in interactive music-​making (Cross, 2006; Kirschner & Tomasello, 2009). The workings of ToM arise in the course of development, and appear to be volitional (requiring some awareness of the ways the mental processes of others are similar to or different from one’s own). In contrast to these reflective processes, the motivational component of shared intentionality is reliant on mechanisms that are more reflexive. Over the last 20 years the latter types of mechanism have been the focus of an increasing amount of research, which has yielded ever more sophisticated accounts of the integrated workings of the mechanisms that underlie our social abilities. One concept that has emerged as key in these accounts is empathy: the ability to align one’s emotions with, and to understand, another’s feelings. Empathy has been variously defined. Eisenberg (2000, p.  672) has defined it as “an affective response that stems from the apprehension or comprehension of another’s emotional state or condition and is similar to what the other person is feeling or would be expected to feel,” a definition that puts together three crucial

Empathy and Creativity in Group Musical Practices

25

features of empathy: an affective response to another’s situation, a critical awareness that one’s own affective state is elicited by the other’s situation, and an awareness that it is aligned with the other’s affective state. Singer & Lamm (2009, p. 82) suggest that “in most cases, mimicry or emotional contagion [processes that appear to be largely reflexive or automatic] precede empathy, which precedes sympathy and compassion, which in turn may precede prosocial behaviour.” As Lieberman (2007, p. 264) notes, fundamentally, empathy is “more embodied than logical.” A similar, though differently nuanced, view of empathy has emerged in the work of philosophers such as Edith Stein (1915/​1989, p.  76), who conceived of empathizing as a staged process involving acts of imagination that are required to “grasp” the other’s inner consciousness—​but not to take it on as one’s own—​that may result in an affective sympathetic response and, ultimately, a strengthening of interhuman bonds and, beyond that, of community. The concomitant concept of empathic relationship can be characterized as involving the pursuit of a joint project, in which there is an active striving to reach out to the other and to engage in nonhierarchical power relationships, which tend to enhance the other (Mothe, 1987). In this sense, then, both empathic processes and empathic relationships rely at their core on a most intent listening to the other. In this overall view, empathy is neither solely a “feeling,” nor is it only the ability to take another’s point of view. These theories provide frameworks within which we can begin to understand music as a social behavior: as a process that requires us to be sensitive to the inner states of others; as an environment that may allow us to experience feelings that are congruent with the feelings of others; and as a manifestation of a state of shared intentionality, a state of which the goal may be simply the maintenance of that state. Music seems to embody the attitudes and emotions of others, which provides us with a basis for engaging both reflexively and reflectively with the music and with the inferred internal states of those with whom we are busy making music. Active participation in music-​making helps make possible the alignment of our own emotional states with those of our collaborators, and may give rise to a sense of empathic community. Its effects might even outlive the activity itself; music may act as a scaffold that can help us to acquire the habit of empathizing. In the remainder of this chapter we shall explore two differing manifestations of empathy in group musical practices with children. In the first, we will describe a program of group musical interactions that, by virtue of stressing other-​directedness, are likely to enhance the general empathic capacities of the children who engage in them. The second makes explicit use of musical and verbal interactions with children in a creative musical context both to draw on and to help engender the children’s empathic sensibilities. These two group musical practices reflect two key attributes of empathy: that it is both reflexive—​rooted in embodied and automatic processes that underwrite the human capacity for social interaction—​and reflective: it requires conscious awareness of, and active reflection on, the inner lives of those with whom we interact.

26

Ian Cross, Felicity Laurence, and Tal-Chen Rabinowitch

Musical Interaction That Inspires Empathic Creativity: Approaches Sometimes when playing music together a moment of grace transpires. It is not only that we take intense pleasure in the music, but in addition we feel that the other person is playing with us in a most emotionally intimate way. These empathic moments, when they occur, are characterized by a flowing musical interaction, which feels as if the players are in complete harmony with each other both musically and emotionally. At the same time, when making music together, we add an additional dimension of creativity to the musical process, especially when composing or improvising, as we are the creators or the “designers” of the music being played. We can define the experience of mutual affective alignment underlined by a creative process as “empathic creativity.” In the following sections we shall describe two approaches for examining how music in cooperative contexts can provide the conditions for the emergence of empathic creativity. We shall first describe a set of musical games that has been developed in order to explore the relationships between other-​directed music-​improvisational interactions and the growth of a sense of empathy. We shall then provide an in-​depth case study describing the processes involved in children’s cooperative composition of a song that demonstrate empathic creativity in action. What are the particular mechanisms that may prompt empathy in creative music making? An analysis of some of the most salient features of musical interaction may provide us with important insights on how empathic creativity emerges during music-​making. First, a key element of musical behavior, especially in a group context, is imitation. To a large extent, it is through mimicry that a song, a rhythm, a scale, and the like are learnt (Overy & Molnar-​Szakacs, 2009). Furthermore, imitation is fundamental to the emotional perception of music, as implied by the theories of Webb (Webb, 1769/​2003) and Langer (Langer, 1953), which posit an isomorphic relation between musical structure and emotion, enabling us to experience music emotionally by implicitly imitating the movement of the music, similar to the “emotional contagion” mechanism proposed by Juslin and Västfjäll (Juslin & Västfjäll, 2008). Concomitantly, as noted, imitation also appears to have an important function in empathy, providing us with an almost first-​person experience of others, enabling us to recognize and internalize their emotional states. Second, entrainment, the synchronization of two or more independent rhythmic processes (Clayton et  al., 2004), is a particularly prominent feature of music, rendering music especially effective in promoting interpersonal synchronicity and shared intentionality (Cross, 2007). By entraining to the same beat, players can also become physiologically entrained (e.g., breathing rate, heartbeat,

Empathy and Creativity in Group Musical Practices

27

and brain wave activity), enhancing their attentional and motoric coordination and strengthening cohesion (Cross, 2007). Such synchronization may also make an important contribution to empathy, facilitating the ability to adjust to someone else’s inner pace, to shift from one’s own rhythm and accept someone else’s different emotional state. Third, disinterested pleasure is the experience of pleasure without presupposing the existence of a pleasurable object (Kant, 1790/​1951). The appreciation of music stems to a considerable extent from the pure aesthetic interest in its sounds, colors, and movements, as opposed to a desire for some functional outcome. Such a pure aesthetic experience, where players are entirely immersed in the music, can help merge their individual intentions into a shared one. Fourth, throughout the process of music-​making within a group of interacting individuals, things are constantly changing; the rhythm, the meter, the harmony, the dynamics, the character of the piece, and so on. Group members must learn to exhibit a considerable degree of flexibility in order to stay together and attuned to the music as it comes into existence. A considerable degree of such flexibility is also required for shifting from one’s own emotional state to perceiving and responding to another’s. Fifth, as discussed, meaning in music is of an ambiguous nature. Cross (2009) describes music as exhibiting floating intentionality (intentionality here meaning “aboutness”), permitting specific, but not necessarily uniformly articulated or identical, emotional experiences to coexist. This intrinsic property of music can promote accord, even when agreement is not necessarily found in the intentional dispositions of the interacting individuals. In a similar vein, Winnicott (1989) depicted an experience of being in a state that is neither pure reality nor pure imagination, but some sort of intermediate space. Art (including music) can occupy such a space with no clear rules and interpretations as exist in the concrete world, but providing instead mental freedom for authentic creativity. Finally, in some instances, shared intentionality, which, as mentioned above, may be an integral component of musical interaction, might qualitatively manifest the characteristics of a deeper phase of interaction called intersubjectivity, whereby participants come to share not only an object of intentionality but also similar affective and cognitive dynamics (Trevarthen & Aitken, 2001). This is possible thanks to the combined contributions of disinterest, flexibility, and ambiguity that transform shared intentionality from a mere sharing of intentions and attention into a condition in which each individual is completely free to be herself—​to the extent that she can openly and unrestrainedly experience others, fully cooperate and merge with them through the music, and feel their affective and cognitive dynamics as if they were her own. In summary, musical interaction, which is naturally endowed with these features, can serve as a significant platform for the development of self-​other sensitivity, enhancing the experience of empathic creativity and perhaps even a general capacity for empathy within the interacting players.

28

Ian Cross, Felicity Laurence, and Tal-Chen Rabinowitch

A Musical Interaction Program for Enhancing Empathic Creativity An environment that emphasizes the special features of musical interaction described above could help set the conditions for the emergence of empathy through the creative process. This can be done by designing a program of musical interaction that consists of special games and tasks, each focused on a particular feature of music predicted to facilitate the emergence of empathy (Rabinowitch et al., 2012, p.  7). In Table 2.1 we provide several examples of such games, two of which are demonstrated in excerpts 1 and 2 in the supplementary video excerpts of musical games accompanying this chapter. Some of these games have been adapted from existing literature, and others have been developed specifically for the music interaction program. Of course, in addition to these examples and the many other games used, additional games that can help instantiate a mutual interaction based on the relevant musical features discussed above may be incorporated into the program. Importantly, the musical interaction program was developed with the intention of exploring the relationships between group musical interaction and children’s sense of empathy. It was designed to ensure that children’s interactive musical improvisations should be other-​directed (rather than directed toward self) and that the children’s musical behaviors should be mutually interdependent, seeking to ensure that any dominant behavior would be transient and would occur only in the service of sustaining and renewing the ongoing musical interaction. It should be noted that the games did not require children to be aware of any explicit process of empathizing; they were designed to focus children’s attention on the process of engaging musically and creatively with each other within the interactive constraints of each game. Nevertheless, a year-​long implementation of the musical group interaction program in several schools led to a statistically significant increase in empathy in the participants (Rabinowitch et al., 2012, p. 4), in two out of three independent measures of emotional empathy, including the Index of Empathy (Bryant, 1982) and a novel nonverbal test. It is important to note that while musical interaction can provide excellent conditions for the emergence of empathic creativity, there is no guarantee that this will indeed occur. Musical interaction is not always successful. There are many factors that can disrupt harmony within the group, such as personal conflict, excessive competitiveness, unbalanced musical skills, lack of patience, unwillingness to cooperate, and perhaps more than anything else, the great difficulty of stepping aside and accepting the group as a whole where no member dominates, but rather all members merge to embark on a joint project. However, if appropriate guidance and attention are put into the musical interaction, it has all the potential to transform the improvisational musical encounter into a positive and promising experience that embodies creative empathy in action.

Empathy and Creativity in Group Musical Practices

29

Table 2.1 Features, core ideas, and examples of musical interaction program. Feature

Core Idea of Game

Example of a game

Imitation (video Repeating musical ideas, example is available precisely or just “loosely” -​see Excerpt 1 in the Supplementary Material)

The Mirror-​Match Game. Sitting in a circle, each participant plays a short musical phrase, which is either repeated precisely by the following participant, or just “matched” by them (Wigram, 2004).

Entrainment

Entraining to and synchronising the beat together

Improvising rhythm. The groups’ task is to improvise together, as the rhythm changes either intentionally by a designated group member or spontaneously. For example, begin the improvisation with a slow tempo, then a fast one, and finally slow again; or starting with a steady pulse, then an uneven tempo, then chaotic etc., on condition that everybody has to do it together, as one unit

Disinterest

Concentrating on small details in the music of the other group member/​s

Closed eyes quiz. One or more group members play a short improvised musical piece. Other members listen with their eyes closed, and are then given a quiz on certain musical aspects. Examples: (a) what are the instruments which are being played; (b) try to sing a small element of the music (the melody, the rhythm, etc.); (c) what is the metre; (d) what could the theme/​story be about?

Flexibility

Encouraging the experience of change and surprise in musical interaction as well as more abstract features such as mood, etc.

The capricious game. The only rule in this game is that the rules are constantly changing. A musical excerpt is played together with various accompanying tasks, so that every 2–​3 minutes the music is switched off for a few seconds and then a new task arrives, often contrary to the previous task. Examples: (a) tapping the beat together; (b) tapping off-​beat together; (c) moving in the room according to the music individually; (d) moving together, connected as a group (without separating, everybody needs to be somehow “connected” to at least one member of the group); (e) singing loudly with the music; (f) being really silent, whispering.

Ambiguity

Experiencing the ambiguous nature of music

Multi-​mood improvisation. The group plays together, each participant improvises according to a different preselected individual mood (e.g. happy, surprised, etc).

30

Ian Cross, Felicity Laurence, and Tal-Chen Rabinowitch

Table 2.1  Continued Feature

Core Idea of Game

Example of a game

Shared intentionality (video example is available -​see Excerpt 2 in the Supplementary Material)

Focusing on working Group composition. The group composes a together to a mutual piece together, so that each participant has a end, where each group distinct part to perform. member is indispensable

Intersubjectivity

Encouraging each other’s Musical mind reading. Preferably in a dyad, “mind reading” through both participants choose a theme (e.g. an music animal, a certain mood, etc.) and start improvising together. Their task during the musical interaction is to try and find out what is the chosen theme of their partner, while at the same time they need to try and get their theme across. After a while they stop playing and each tries to guess the other’s theme.

Processes of Empathic Creativity in Children’s Song Composition Having established that other-​directed musical group interaction may offer the potential of enhancing children’s empathic capacities, we now explore how empathic processes themselves may inform collaborative and creative musical activity through processes of composition rather than improvisation. In the project described below an adult composer (“Rosa”) and a small group of children made songs together over a period of several months, in a kind of music-​making constructed specifically to favor empathic relationships; thus the act of empathizing, and empathic relationships, were being sought both as the foundations and as the outcomes of the music-​making. We look now at the specifically creative aspect of this kind of musical group practice as carried out in this work, seeking within this the weave and role of empathic processes. The quintessential quality of creativity has been given as “going beyond” (Feldman et  al., cited in Burnard & White, 2008, p.  672); but it is also always situated within, and draws on, what is already there, which in turn builds on what has been—​both within a person, and from without. In this example of children’s musical group practice, what there was to draw on in the process of invention was each participant’s accumulated experience, memory, and imaginative capacity; the combined resource that these constituted; and then, in addition, the collective concern and intention to build empathic relationships. Each stage of the

Empathy and Creativity in Group Musical Practices

31

work grew from what went just before, and this was facilitated by the empathic processes that were being foregrounded; arguably, such processes must underpin all such creative musical group practice, and this notion seems salient in a concept of “empathic creativity.” As described above, empathic relationship is conceived as involving shared intention and a joint project; clearly, in this case, the very making of the songs was both a creative and a collaborative act, constituting this mutuality of action—​that is, the collective musical making. In the end, this included not only the thinking and discussion leading to the words and the music but also the ensuing performance of the songs, in which the children continued to suggest ideas affecting their ongoing development. The philosopher Christopher Small suggests that the meaning of music is best approached through a consideration of the human activity of doing it, rather than exclusively through looking at the music itself, and has offered his concept of musicking to delineate this shift of perspective (Small, 1998). Small positions the idea of relationship at the core of this concept, positing that in musicking we seek, investigate, and celebrate relationships—​an entire matrix of intramusical, intrapersonal, between music and person, and also spiritual relationships—​that are the right, “ideal” relationships as we, the participants, find these to be. Pivotal to Small’s musicking is its inclusion of any human activity connected with a musical performance, offering a reach that takes in rehearsal and all processes of composition and preparation. Crucially, this concept allows in this case, as an integral part, the highly flexible discussions between the children from which the themes and words came, leading ultimately to the collective musical work. Dobbs (2008) also notes the centrality of talk in classroom musical learning contexts, its role in “scaffolding the students’ construction of music understanding while enhancing a sense of collaboration” (p. 148), which in turn has “the potential to become an empathic process [where] the teacher offers both emotional and musical support to the student by attending to the social-​musical nature of their relationship” (p. 148). There are theoretical congruences between this interpretation of what is happening when we (in Small’s vision) “music” and the concept of empathy-​as-​ process sketched above. It can be suggested accordingly that in the kind of musicking that favors equality of human relationship and participation, that invites us to listen and attend acutely to our comusicker(s), in which we pursue similar intentions and have a sense of the other as being with us on a joint endeavor, empathic processes and relationships may be served, facilitated, and even brought into being (Laurence, 2005, 2008). Indeed, the ethnomusicologist John Blacking remarked, on observing the intricate interaction of two African drummers playing together, that through such interaction, two people might achieve an empathic experience unavailable in any other way (Blacking, 1987, p. 26). In this project, the creative activity was the making of songs for which the children themselves identified topics of deep concern about which they, consensually, would like to write and sing. This was new territory for the children in that their collective voice was being sought, and celebrated and listened to—​in the most

32

Ian Cross, Felicity Laurence, and Tal-Chen Rabinowitch

literal sense. The process can be seen as an interactive compositional partnership between an adult composer and children as composers-​in-​the-​making. It included constant self-​questioning on everyone’s part, which gave reality to the intention to find and make the rapport that drove the developing empathic relationships. The resulting songs were different from what either the children or the adult could have created alone. This, then, is the particular musical group practice that the following description attempts to bring to life. From the account of the children’s thoughts and actions, empathic processes and elements of an emergent empathic relationship may be discerned at the core of the collective creative activity.

A Story from the Field A group of about six children, from Year 6, aged about 10–​11 years, together with their adult coparticipant “Rosa,” are discussing the kinds of things they are thinking about—​perhaps worried, perhaps excited—​in their impending move to secondary school. (This account is of “real” events and children, drawing on field notes and recordings made of the work described.) They are going to make songs together about themes that they feel are important to them, in a process of cooperative musicking, in which these discussions are a preliminary aspect. Some themes are suggested—​ friendship? bullying? feeling nervous about change?—​and then Terese, small, quiet, and badly afflicted with eczema that constantly flares up everywhere on her body, including her face, speaks up. “Could we make a song about how your appearance doesn’t matter? About how it’s what’s inside that should matter?” The others are quick to agree—​this clearly catches the collective imagination—​and there follows an eloquent discussion of the wrongness of judging people by their appearances, of taunting someone who is “too fat,” “too small,” “looked different” . . . instead, they say, we should focus on the real you—​and then comes the idea, so swiftly picked up across the group—​“yes a bird,” “and the bird wants to get out,” “yes and to be free,” “the ‘real’ you  .  .  .  that’s the bird”—​that it’s impossible to discern any individual source. It seems to come from a collective leap of imagination (perhaps the first “going beyond”?); the “bird inside you”—​who wants to “spring out.” But now it’s Patrick—​always-​in-​trouble Patrick—​who takes it to the next metaphorical level, and he explains that it’s like a “spirit” inside you, a spirit—​your very own spirit, locked inside—​whom we should allow to be free; a spirit perhaps not normally evident, and especially not when buried and invisible under that outward appearance. (Not normally evident for Patrick either; Patrick, for whom not only school but all of the circumstances of his life deny him the “real me” that he now articulates within the group.) Helen sits in the group, too, a big girl; too big, she feels. She watches the other children quietly for a few minutes, evidently listening carefully, perhaps not only to what is being said, but to make sure that it’s truly safe to speak. Then: “People say I’m

Empathy and Creativity in Group Musical Practices

33

fat, and I know I’m overweight. But that’s not me. They judge me, just as someone who is fat. But it’s how you are inside that matters.” No one laughs, no one taunts in this space where the children are acutely attuned to each other, listening with perhaps extraordinary attention, given the immediate context of their being in a school hall through which others constantly move. The wider context of their voicelessness and of “not being heard” is within the prevailing curricular context of delivery and management; and, beyond that again, within a society which prioritizes the way you look to an arguably pathological degree. Here they can speak, listen, be heard, and make their very own responses, which they intend to turn into a collective response. Open up your heart to other people See the bird fly so high Doesn’t matter if you’re black or white Everyone will feel the feelings in the breeze from the bird’s wings . . . Spread your wings and go and fly Let the feelings go round—​feel all your feelings Let your feelings jump out It doesn’t matter if you’re small or big, what clothes you wear . . . . . . people should not tease other children for looking unusual or different. It’s how we are inside that counts and whether we are kind to other people Appearance isn’t the only thing in life . . . your size doesn’t matter

And Helen writes down: It doesn’t matter about appearance, it’s the inside that counts Everybody is so different in a way so don’t put that against other people, just be nice . . . don’t put people down for having different features than you or if they come from a different country than you and your friends Try your best to be you not someone else

There is clear consensus here, as everyone explores this idea and the kinds of relationships which arise from it. So—​how to find the “right” music for their words. What kind of tune? “smooth,” “quiet,” “high bits and low bits” . . . “faster—​exciting? slow? gentle?” . . . definitely gentle. “How shall we start the song then?” Rosa asks. The children have already been playing with musical ideas together, and she has shown them how hands can make combinations of sounds on the piano keys, and how notes look on manuscript paper—​they know that she can write down what they sing as well as what they are saying. They are aware and attentive, and palpably working to enhance each others’ participation with their ongoing comments and reciprocal listening, the mutually benign “gaze” that seems to prevail, and above all the endorsement of the sentiments of Helen and Terese, for whom how they appear—​on the “outside”—​is a continued source of pain. So the ground is ready—​and clearly in Vygotsky’s “zone of proximal development”—​and, sure enough, musical ideas come forth. First, Helen herself sings—​very

34

Ian Cross, Felicity Laurence, and Tal-Chen Rabinowitch

low, fairly indistinct, but perceptible nonetheless—​a fragment:  “It doesn’t matter what you look like.” The rhythm of the words is reflected in the melodic contour, which starts low, rises, pauses, then falls, and emphasizes the “look like.” She looks down, and Rosa plays and sings the phrase: “Is that right?” Helen looks up again, little expression, but such a listening attitude. “Um . . .” “Could you sing it again?” Rosa asks. Again it comes, almost a mumble, but the phrase is there still. “Oh yes, that’s perfect! That fits the words so beautifully . . .” And John says “Can we try it?”—​ and so the phrase is born: “It doesn’t matter what you look like . . .” What might come next? “As long as you are kind inside” says Terese. How shall we sing that? “High—​it could go high” comes a voice. “Like this? What do you think?” “Yes—​ that’s right,” “Yes, that’s nice” they say. Meanwhile, Becky sits humming quietly, as she so often does, and now she puts up her hand and says:  “What about this?” and here comes another little phrase, which Rosa notates hastily as she sings, so that it isn’t lost, and then hums it back to her. “Is this what you mean? Is that right?”—​“No! That bit was like this  .  .  .” “Ah—​like this.” And so it goes on, the children, the singing, the voices and the piano echoing, picking up the musical fragments and steadily “fixing” these, in an ongoing process of reaching forward and beyond. And gradually, the lyric takes its shape, into the first two verses: It doesn’t matter what you look like, as long as you are kind inside It really doesn’t matter, and everyone’s unique, Let the bird inside you spring out. If we look diff ’rent from each other, that’s just the way it ought to be, We all have different features, and everyone’s unique, Let the bird inside you spring out.

The group agrees to have an instrumental interlude, a reflective moment after the singing of these first thoughts, where a melodic phrase swoops and leaps for the next eight bars before returning to the next verse . . . “So open up your hearts to others, and send the feelings round the world” . . . it continues, always with the closest representation of the children’s own words, now attached to that melody, which itself has grown from Helen’s original phrase, and now the last line becomes . . . “Let the bird inside you be free.” But then—​and now comes inspiration—​Patrick says “what about something about the bird flying away—​you could do this . . .” and he sings—​just like that, all by himself, spontaneous, astonishing, “Fly away, feel all the feeling” . . . high and true in an unlikely and effortless soprano voice, a tiny phrase that falls, rises, falls again, and slots exquisitely into the space it has opened up between the instrumental interlude and the beginning of the third verse. The other children agree immediately—​ this is exactly right. Perhaps this was one of those moments of grace . . . the children are in any case utterly absorbed in the flow, and in that moment, in Patrick’s creative contribution—​ his gift to our work.

Empathy and Creativity in Group Musical Practices

35

And so it continues, and in the end the song is judged by all to be complete, and reflective of their shared inspiration. In this work may be found a growing synchronicity of thought, attention to each other, even musical inspiration, echoing the entrainment that arises in playing music together. Trust was essential, and trust may also be seen as a core aspect of the other-​enhancing empathic relationship. The children’s creative musicking might be conceived as their striving to “go beyond,” and what they were here specifically and explicitly engaged in going beyond included, among many other things, the normal order of power relationships that determined their daily existences, and their existing musical self-​concepts and musically inventive capacities. In the words of Christopher Small, they were “exploring” new relationships both between each other and in the music they were making, trying these on (as Small explains) for “fit,” finding them to be “right relationships” for them, and celebrating them.

Summary and Conclusions We have defined the experience of empathy as poised between a conscious judgment about similarities of our own with another’s emotional condition and an embodied and automatic sharing of another’s affective state. We have noted that empathic relationships have been conceived of as involving the pursuit of a joint project, in which there is an active attempt to engage in nonhierarchical power relationships, and we have suggested that active participation in music-​making helps to align our own emotional states with those of our collaborators, and may give rise to a sense of empathic community. We then described how specific features of engagement in music-​making, or “musicking,” may play a prominent role in the generation of empathic creativity. These include imitation, which may help provide us with a first-​person experience of the other; entrainment, which may allow us to shift from our own rhythm/​emotional state and accept someone else’s; disinterested pleasure in musicking, which can help merge the individual intentions of a group into a shared intention; flexibility, which enables us to shift from our own emotional state to perceiving and responding to another’s; and ambiguity, which allows all participants to interpret the significance of their musicking in their own terms without requiring that they overtly agree on it. An example of a program of musical interaction for children that is intended to promote instances of empathic creativity is presented, together with an assessment of the likelihood that the empathic capacities of musicking children will be enhanced by the program. We have concluded with a case study of how empathic processes may themselves inform collaborative creative musical activity. In this case study, a group of children and an adult coparticipant make songs together. The children outline and share real-​life themes that are important to them, collaboratively transforming these into words

36

Ian Cross, Felicity Laurence, and Tal-Chen Rabinowitch

and music; this sharing of moments of specifically musical creativity allows the children, collectively, to reveal and to recognize their own empathic potential. The ideas and the research outlined in this chapter have significant implications for the ways music-​educational practice may have both immediate and long-​term consequences for children’s social capacities. The other-​directedness and inclusiveness of both the games and creative song-​making help crystallize and reinforce children’s capacities for emotional alignment with others as they use and acquire capacities to engage in making music. The particular methods that we sketch here are models rather than prescriptions; we feel that almost any form of structured and inclusive musical activity that directs the attention of children toward each others’ actions and emotional states, whether implicitly or explicitly, will be likely to engage and to enhance children’s sense of the inner lives of their coparticipants, through processes that we might refer to as musical empathic creativity. The work that we present here also has significant implications for the direction of future research. Empathy has come increasingly into focus as a mainstream topic of cognitive and neuroscientific research, but is only beginning to be explored empirically in relation to music and music education. There are many different research paradigms that might be applied in exploring the ways the processes underlying the concept of empathy relate to the making of music and to the processes involved in the development of abilities to “music.” Musicians and educators presently have the chance to contribute significantly to, and influence the progress of, the emerging field of empathy studies.

Key Sources: Video Excerpts Excerpts 1 and 2 are video excerpts of musical games designed to emphasize imitation (excerpt 1) and shared intentionality (excerpt 2), as part of a specially tailored music interaction program for children aimed at enhancing emotional empathy (Rabinowitch et al., 2012, p. 7).

REFERENCES Adolphs, R. (2003). Cognitive neuroscience of human social behaviour. Nature Reviews Neuroscience, 4(3), 165–​178. Blacking, J. (1987). A commonsense view of all music. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Bryant, B. K. (1982). An index of empathy for children and adolescents. Child Development 53, 413–​425. Burnard, P., & White, J. (2008). Creativity and performativity: Counterpoints in British and Australian education. British Educational Research Journal, 34(5), 667–​682.

Empathy and Creativity in Group Musical Practices

37

Clayton, M., Sager, R., & Will, U. (2004). In time with the music: The concept of entrainment and its significance for ethnomusicology. ESEM CounterPoint 1, 1–​82. Cross, I. (2006). Music and social being. Musicology Australia, 28, 114–​126. Cross, I. (2007). Music and cognitive evolution. In R.I.M. Dunbar & L. Barrett (eds.), Oxford handbook of evolutionary psychology (pp. 649–​667). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Cross, I. (2009). The evolutionary nature of musical meaning. Musicae Scientiae, 13 (2), 143–​159. Cross, I., & Woodruff, G. E. (2009). Music as a communicative medium. In R. Botha & C. Knight (eds.), The prehistory of language (pp. 77–​99). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Dobbs, T. (2008). Discourse in the band room: The role of talk in an instrumental music classroom. In L. Thompson & M. R. Campbell (eds.), Diverse methodologies in the study of music teaching and learning (pp. 137–​160). Charlotte, NC: Information Age Publishing, Inc. Eisenberg, N. (2000). Emotion, regulation, and moral development. Annual Review of Psychology, 51, 665–​697. Gopnik, A. (1999). Theory of mind. In R. A. Wilson & F. C. Keil (eds.), MIT encyclopedia of cognitive sciences (pp. 838–​841). Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Juslin, P. N., & Västfjäll, D. (2008). Emotional responses to music: The need to consider underlying mechanisms. Behavioral and Brain Sciences 31, 559–​575; discussion 575–​621. Kant, I. (1790/​1951). Critique of judgment. New York: Hafner Publishing Company. Keysers, C. (2009). Mirror neurons. Current Biology, 19(21), R971–​R973. Kirschner, S., & Tomasello, M. (2009). Joint drumming: Social context facilitates synchronization in preschool children. Journal of Experimental Child Psychology, 102, 299–​314. Langer, S. K. K. (1953). Feeling and form; A theory of art. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons. Laurence, F. (2005). Music and empathy: A study of the possible development, through certain ways of musicking, of children’s empathic abilities within a primary school context. Unpublished Ph.D. diss., University of Birmingham. Laurence, F. (2008). Music and empathy. In Olivier Urbain (ed.), Music and conflict: Harmonies and dissonances in geopolitics (pp. 85–​98). Basingstoke, UK: I. B. Tauris. Lieberman, M. D. (2007). Social cognitive neuroscience: A review of core processes. Annual Review of Psychology, 58, 259–​289. Mothe, M.  de la. (1987). Empathy revisited. Unpublished Ph.D.  thesis, Open University, Milton Keynes, UK. Overy, K., Molnar-​Szakacs, I. (2009). Being together in time: Musical experience and the mirror neuron system. Music Perception 26, 489–​504. Rabinowitch, T. -​C., Cross, I., Burnard, P. (2012) Long-​term musical group interaction has a positive influence on empathy in children. Psychology of Music 1–​15 DOI:10.1177/​ 0305735612440609 pom.sagepub.com. Singer, T., & Lamm, C. (2009). The social neuroscience of empathy. Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences: The Year in Cognitive Neuroscience, 2009, 1156, 81–​96. Small, C. (1998). Musicking: The meanings of performing and listening. Hanover, NH: Wesleyan University Press. Stein, E. (1917/​1989). On the problem of empathy. Washington, DC: ICS Publications. Stueber, K. (2008). Empathy. In E. N. Zalta (ed.), Stanford encyclopedia of philosophy (Fall 2008 ed.). http://​plato.stanford.edu/​archives/​fall2008/​entries/​empathy/​. Tomasello, M., Carpenter, M., Call, J., Behne, T., & Moll, H. (2005). Understanding and sharing intentions: The origins of cultural cognition. Behavioral and Brain Sciences, 28(5), 675–​691. Trevarthen, C., Aitken, K. J. (2001). Infant intersubjectivity: Research, theory, and clinical applications. Journal of Child Psychology and Psychiatry, and Allied Disciplines 42, 3–​48.

38

Ian Cross, Felicity Laurence, and Tal-Chen Rabinowitch

Webb, D. (1769/​2003). Observations on the correspondence between poetry and music. In R. Katz & R. HaCohen (eds.), The arts in mind: Pioneering texts of a coterie of British men of letters. New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction Publishers. Wigram, T. (2004). Improvisation:  Methods and techniques for music therapy clinicians, educators and students. London & New York: J. Kingsley Publishers. Winnicott, D. W. (1989). Playing and reality. London: Routledge.

Chapter 3

INTERCULTURAL TENSIONS AND CREATIVITY IN MUSIC Eva Saether with Alagi Mbye and Reza Shayesteh

If life surrounding him does not present challenges to an individual, if his usual and inherent reactions are in complete equilibrium with the world around him, then there will be no basis for him to exercise creativity. —​Vygotsky, “Imagination and Creativity in Childhood” (1930) Confrontations, breakup, dissociation, the Other1—​all of these concepts could be seen as troubling, disturbing, or problematic, most certainly when the context is music education in a globalized world. In this chapter however, these concepts of instability and insecurity are used to discuss the potential value of tensions and disruption in practicing creative music education. Intercultural is a concept that suggests a process, interaction, and mutuality. It is also a concept that suggests border crossing, or breaking barriers. When used with reference to education and fostering, the ethical values that are usually mentioned are tolerance, social justice, and equality:  necessary ingredients in multicultural societies (Lahdenperä, 2004).

40

Eva Saether with Alagi Mbye and Reza Shayesteh

When used in combination with creativity, as in the title of this chapter, the process of intercultural understanding is combined with what is embedded in that concept: discovering or making something new, learning and doing things in new ways. Listening to each other, which is at the core of intercultural education, can be described as confrontation with the unknown (Saether, 2003). It is the same confrontation with the unknown that has inspired the two key figures of this chapter in their daily practice of music teaching:  Jali Alagi Mbye in Gambia has broken the taboos of the Mandinka culture by opening a music school for all children in Gambia, not only the ones born into jali2 families. And Reza Shayesteh from Iran has used experiences from living in exile to open a music school in Malmö, offering Persian music to students of all ages and backgrounds. The main author of this chapter has a long history of association with both cultural sites. Jali Alagi Mbye has served as informant and coresearcher in various research and music projects (Saether, 2003). Reza Shayesteh regularly teaches at the intercultural project at the Malmö Academy of Music, and the main author has been one of the students at his school as part of a research study (Saether, 2011). In this chapter the main author has chosen to include both Reza Shayesteh and Jali Alagi Mbye as coauthors, since their oral and musical contribution is of a quality that extends beyond that of the typical “informant.” The information for this chapter has been gathered both by Reza Shayesteh and Jali Alagi Mbye, and by the main author, in the course of visits, interviews, video footage, and participant observation at their respective sites. The core of this chapter is the notion of creativity, as it is conceived and performed at the Iranian-​Swedish association music school in Malmö and Maali’s Music School in Gambia. It is the disruptions, the dissociations between “here” and “there” that have served as a catalyst for the creative transmission of music at these two schools—​as well as course development at the Malmö Academy of Music. In this way all three sites are linked by their connections and disruptions. On a meta-​level disruption also serves as an analytical tool to disseminate creativity. This chapter is organized as follows:  The theoretical framework combines Vygotsky’s theories of creativity with current discussions in ethnomusicology on the value and nature of cultural meetings, followed by an overview of how the concept of the Other has been used in this study, in seeking insights from the epistemology of non-​Western cultures. We then describe how creativity is conceived and practiced in the Gambian and Persian/​Swedish examples. This section contains a discussion on important areas of tension, in these examples and in multicultural societies in general. The next section describes the approach used, for example in course development for music teacher education, while the final section presents a summary of key principles and approaches.

Intercultural Tensions and Creativity

41

Theoretical Framework The principles of the approach used in this chapter are collected from critical theory, anthropology, and ethnomusicology, but the overall umbrella of ideas about creativity are here inspired by the pedagogue and philosopher Lev Vygotsky (1896–​ 1934). Vygotsky’s ideas on imagination and creativity (shaped in a changing Russia in the early twentieth century) provide us with a basis for the discussion of creativity in a post modern, hybrid world.

Dissociation, Vygotsky, and Diversity Dissociation is thus a necessary condition for further operation of the imagination (Vygotsky, 2004/​1930, p. 25) Research in general creativity is well established and has its roots in a diversity of Western traditions: psychology, philosophy, sociology, and anthropology. From the 1950s to the 1970s there was a focus on psychological determinants, and the individual genius could be explained by biological factors, for example as in Piaget’s developmental stages. Since the mid-​1970s the field has moved toward the cultural aspects of creativity. The emergence of social psychology and systems theory are examples of this broadened perspective. In creativity research in education there are areas of tension that give energy to the discussion: Is creativity domain-​free or domain-​specific? How do principles of assessment affect creativity and what is the relationship between individual and collaborative creativity? (Burnard, 2007). This chapter examines Vygotsky’s theories on creativity in the field of tension between the individual and the collaborative. As opposed to earlier readings of Vygotsky that concentrate on how, for example, he emphasizes the importance of play, or how he explains the difference between children’s creativity and creativity in later life stages (see for example Ayman-​Nolley, 1992), the argument here is that Vygotsky’s general sociocultural perspective gives his theory qualities that can be of renewed interest in times of extensive globalization and cultural exchange. The creative ability, sometimes (when referring to its imaginative component) called fantasy, is not regarded as something metaphysical, only available to the genius. Instead, creative ability is regarded as a form of consciousness, an ability to make combinations, and part of the lived reality. The more rich and diverse this lived reality is, the more opportunities for fantasy. Fantasy, construed thus as a product of diversity in real life, promotes a creative ability through which experiences and feelings are interpreted. In Vygotskian theory the mind gives meaning or significance to the feelings, thus tying mind to emotion.

42

Eva Saether with Alagi Mbye and Reza Shayesteh

Creativity, in Vygotskian theory, is also a product of diversity in real life. This cannot be fully understood without connecting his thoughts on creativity to his theory of social development, cognition, and experience as the end-​product of social interactions. He was well aware of the fact that cognition and behavior differ from culture to culture, and that development depends on the tools that the culture provides and social interaction. Children learn how to think and behave in a culture through contact with more knowledgeable members of that culture. In this context the Zone of Proximal Development (ZPD), the area where learning takes place, is also worth attention. Under guidance or mentorship, the student or child or member of a culture becomes socialized into a culture, which leads to cognitive development—​and thereby, also, creative development. A  normal condition for children in, for example, a classroom in multicultural Malmö, is that they belong to a number of different cultures, offering a multitude of ZPDs. If Vygotsky lived today, what discussions and arguments would he have developed in the typical situation of a multicultural classroom? Maybe that the quality of mentoring is more crucial than ever: it might also be that the conditions in multicultural societies present a rich playground for experiences to be had, and creativity to be nurtured and practiced? We can only guess, or direct our attention to the examples of dissociation and multiple ZPDs available in the musical world around us. One example in this chapter is how the experience of exile has informed Reza Shayesteh’s creativity. Another is how Jali Alagi Mbye’s many years of interaction with Scandinavian musicians and researchers has inspired his teaching practice, as well as his interpretation of creativity within his own culture. Vygotskian theories share many postulates with contemporary anthropology. For example, the anthropologist Michael Carrithers introduced the concept “sociability” to explain social and cultural diversity. His argument is that it is the interaction between cultures and individuals that shapes successful societies, and that it is our ability to socialize that best describes what it is to be human: Ethnographic knowledge would be deemed necessary to a world in which people are routinely dependent on relations between themselves and others of different aesthetic standards, and with different interests. Anthropology would challenge people and encourage them to consider new possibilities in the conduct of such relations. Anthropology would make a difference because relationships make a difference. (Carrithers, 1992, p. 199)

Both in current anthropology and in Vygotsky’s theory, the barriers between science and art are broken. As Vygotsky puts it: Typically, people use the terms imagination or fantasy to refer to something quite different than what they mean in science . . . But in actuality, imagination, as the basis of all creative activity, is an important component of absolutely all aspects of cultural life, enabling artistic, scientific, and technical creation alike. (Vygotsky, 2004/​1930, p. 9–​10)

Intercultural Tensions and Creativity

43

And as Carrithers explains: Science has a social as well as an intellectual history, for new notions of evidence and argumentation may arise, old ones may perish, and the explanation for such events cannot be limited to the impersonal success of their results. (Carrithers, 1992, p. 154)

According to Vygotsky (1995/​1930, 2004/​1930) it is the creative activity, or practice, that makes it possible for human beings to create something new. The creative process starts with a perception of the external and the internal—​the basis of our experience—​and the accumulation of material. Such material might be, as in the examples from Gambia and Iran/​Sweden in this chapter, experiences of exile, meetings with the unknown and mythological epics. The next step is the reworking of this material—​an important phase, where association and dissociation are the components. Dissociation, as for example bringing in experiences from meetings with the unknown, is the first necessary condition for further operation of the imagination: “In order to subsequently join together the various elements, a person must first break the natural association of elements in which they were initially perceived” (Vygotsky, 2004/​1930, p.  25). Bringing in experiences from meetings with the unknown is probably easier to achieve in the twenty-​first century than it was during Vygotsky’s lifetime.

Knowing the Other, Reflexivity, and Dichotomies Cultural diversity in music education is basically a question of relationships between people. The relationship between the Western author and the two non-​writing authors of this chapter is based on playing and working together, in many different ways:  touring in Sweden with music productions for children: conducting interviews in a research project; creating intercultural weeks at the Malmö Academy of Music; and a master-​apprenticeship relation, the Western author being an apprentice at the Persian school. To the Western author it might be tempting to claim that this has led to understanding, but this is only partially true. In the long time spent developing relationships between the creators of this chapter, they have become aware that their understanding is limited, and that the most interesting and valuable part of the relationships is to be found in the differences. The relation to the Other, and the creative potential of differences and dissensus form the platform of wonderment for the exploration of creative practice in settings other than Western academic institutions. In that sense this text carries typical bricolage features—​for example, seeking insight from the margins of Western societies and the epistemology of non-​Western peoples. Gaining insights from the margins is an attempt in the bricolage tradition to remove knowledge production from the control of elite groups (e.g. university-​funded researchers such as the Western

44

Eva Saether with Alagi Mbye and Reza Shayesteh

author of this chapter). Here, the voices of Reza Shayesteh and Alagi Mbye serve to counterbalance the cultural assumptions that cannot be avoided when working within the field of a Western-​dominated academic tradition, such as music education research. In this chapter, the Other has many shapes, depending on one’s perspective. In the Gambian and Persian examples, the Other is, for example, what Jali Alagi Mbye experienced at the Western music academies, or what Reza Shayesteh experienced in exile. Dichotomies (like us-​ them, formal-​ informal) are used and discussed within ethnomusicology and music education research. As Knudsen (2004) reminds us, there are many warnings accompanying the use and construction of dualities: once the labels are established, there is a risk of excluding what does not fit within the selected terms:  the focus on labels might lead to objectification and move the attention away from the dynamic processes, and finally there might be too much emphasis on the opposite poles, at the expense of overlap and simultaneity. When I  have chosen to include dichotomies in this text, it is because they serve as an illustration of the dynamic energy that is created in the space between them: this dynamic energy—​the dissonance—​is fundamental for creative practice in intercultural music education.

Exclusion and the Palace Following the metaphor of dichotomies, this section presents two geographically distant music schools:  the Iranian–​Swedish Association music school in Malmö and Maali’s Music School in Gambia. The two key figures of this chapter are the initiators and teachers at the respective schools, and it is their notion of creativity and their creative practice that is presented. The interviews with them were loosely structured, more like conversations, focused around the following questions, which were given to the two teachers-​musicians-​coauthors a few weeks in advance of the actual interview:

1. What is creativity to you? 2. How is creativity conceived in your musical culture? 3. How do you apply creativity in your work as a pedagogue?

The interviews were carried out in the settings of their creative practice, in their schools, each of them supplemented with video sequences of examples of the practices here described in words. I have chosen to present them as two separate sections, each with a subheading that emanated from the different notions of creativity: “Exclusion and Bulumakalang”3 for the school in Gambia, and “The Palace” for the school in Malmö.

Intercultural Tensions and Creativity

45

Exclusion and Bulumakalang Jali Alagi Mbye belongs to an oral tradition that reshapes and confirms its values by constant references to the epic or orature of Sunjata Keita, the first king and hero of the Mali empire in the early thirteenth century.4 Naturally, when Alagi Mbye talks about creativity, he selects key events from this epic when explaining his own creative practice. He improvises on ancient cornerstones, and moves in the field of tension between now and then. In 1998 he opened Maalis Music School in Nema Kunku, a little village in Gambia. This school is open to all children who want to learn the art of traditional Mandinka music, normally only accessible to members of the jali families. Thereby he is breaking the taboos of his own tradition, but also keeping the tradition of the heroes in this tradition; to become a hero you have to break the taboos in order to release and get access to enough power. This is the story about the origin of the kora—​in this context the story about creativity, the story that Alagi Mbye used to answer my questions (short version of the transcript): One morning, a long time ago, a young man called Koriyang Moussa Suso decided to leave his home and go to look for a better life. When he came to the village of Busumbala (near the present airport of Banjul) he decided to settle, find a wife, and start a family. As he was a stranger, the elders of the village decided that he was not to be trusted, and therefore he was given the most excluded and despised woman as a wife: the albino Kankung. When Koriyang saw the white face of Kankung, the face that had been rejected so many times, he saw the beauty, grace, and gentleness in her eyes. They moved to a peaceful place called Sannementereng, where they lived happily together. Kankung was happy, and the jinns (spirits) saw her and fell in love with her. To persuade her to come and live with them in the spirit world, they came to her and played the most beautiful music she had ever heard: “Where we live there is much more than music, you will be very happy, you will be at home, there are many of us, and every one will love you.” Kankung was troubled. She thought of her beloved husband who had rescued her from the exclusion: “I know I will be happy there, I will not be afraid of anyone laughing at me or running away from me. But I prefer to suffer here than to leave my husband by himself.” One of the jinns suggested that they give the kora in exchange for her: “it plays many kinds of music which human beings have never heard before.” Kankung hesitated. She loved the music, but he might not. People were used to hearing music from drums. The jinns had a solution: The same afternoon the jinns came to Koriyang in his dreams. The jinns played enchanting, sad and happy music, and when Koriyang woke up he told her wife about the strange dream: “There is no instrument like this in the world. There is magic in the strings. The music touched my heart. It’s as if I have fallen in love with it. I know you will think I am crazy, but I will give anything, anything to get this instrument. Suddenly the wind blew and the jinns appeared, playing the kora. Koriyang told them how much he wanted that instrument, and the jinns answered: “There is always a price to pay for something that one loves and can’t do without.”

46

Eva Saether with Alagi Mbye and Reza Shayesteh Koriyang was terrified when he heard the price, of course he could not let his wife go. After heavy discussions Kankung came to his rescue: “Don’t be so sad, you will miss me, but you will have this instrument. You will be known the world over as the man who first introduced the kora and its music to this generation and generations to come. Whenever you play the kora it will be as if you are playing for me and I will come and be with you.” This is how the kora became the musical instrument of the Gambia.5

This story, which was originally narrated in a much more elaborate way, to the accompaniment of a kora, contains many of the most important themes that jali Alagi Mbye touches, when talking about creativity: exclusion, love, and the price to pay being the most important. However, his first statement on creativity touches an area that is not present in the story about the origin of the kora: “creativity is practice,” which is connected to the overall theme of exclusion.

Creativity is Practice “The way we practice creativity in Mandinka is that we start very early. Very early learning is the first thing we practice.” When a jali child is born in a jali family, she has already practiced a lot. During pregnancy, the mothers have been singing, dancing, moving, doing everything with the child in mind. After birth, the first thing that happens to the child is separation: A woman from the neighborhood is called on to breastfeed the child, not the mother! “Because this is where they start with you to present the responsibilities that you are going to face in your future, to have the neighbors in your mind. People first, before you think about yourself, and with your neighbors inside you, there is nothing that can separate you from them. Exclusion creates inclusion.” Later the children are sent away to learn bulumakalang, how to develop or create something new. To Alagi Mbye, creativity is practice, “to do things we want to do, we really like to do, we can only create on things that we want to do. Practice and close connection also creates future.”

Love Koriyang fell in love with the kora, when the jinns played it to him. They played it to him because he had given his love to the most excluded woman, thereby creating inclusion. Kankung left her beloved husband, because she knew he would give love to the society by playing the kora. When a kora student has passed his final exam as a jali, and the elders have found him good enough to have his own instrument, this is celebrated with a ceremony where the first kora is given to the student as his first wife, like a marriage. It is an important dimension: “If you love your instrument, you have a close connection to that instrument, you can create many things.” There is also a social and including aspect of this love, as jali Alagi Mbye interprets it:  “The love that was given to

Intercultural Tensions and Creativity

47

Kankung and the love that Kankung gave to Moussa and he gave to the people has created peace, love, and togetherness.”

Mistakes and Experiments When a child in Maalis Music School makes a mistake, she is seldom corrected. Instead Jali Alagi Mbye tries to follow the child’s mistake, change it, and maybe even create a new song. He also likes to combine instruments and genres that, according to his tradition, do not belong to each other. Jali Alagi Mbye has equipped his orchestra with imported instruments, but lately he has become more interested in bringing the Western sounds into the Gambian family of instruments: “Because the musicians here cannot afford to buy this, and I think we can make the sound of the bass guitar on the bolon bata.”

Community—​Life in General “Being a human being you need creativity. Creativity in general is life. It is not only for jalis, but it is for people who want to live in this world.” The creative aspect of life in general and the communal aspect of it are built into the kora instrument: the iron ring has to be strong, it is the heart of the kora, if it breaks it can even kill the kora player. This heart is always created by the numu (smiths) families. The wood is created by the wood carvers. The strings used to come from the leather workers, but now nylon strings are used. The kings are built into the instrument both in a peaceful and in a brutal way. Traditionally the jalis would praise the kings by singing “you won the war, you are the owner of the horses, you drove them to this village and captured them,” but the brave jali will also add “the war is where people are killed so why are you so proud of that?” Thus, the physical body of the kora carries all the different social layers in society, and the songs add to this by bringing musical life to the ancient values of Mandinka society: acceptance, openness, exclusion, and inclusion. Alagi says with reference to the story of the origin of the kora: “If you create something it will not be developed if people don’t see it.” Kankung’s exclusion created inclusion by bringing the kora instrument to the human beings, but she (and he) had to pay the price by dissociation, the necessary ingredient for creativity, according to Vygotsky. To jali Alagi Mbye himself the price has been long periods of living and working in places far away from his own family, but it is with the experiences of all the meetings with foreign musicians, other instruments and other approaches to learning that he has opened and developed his music school.

The Palace In the Gambian example it is the tension between exclusion and inclusion that is used to encourage bulumakalang, to develop or create something new. In this

48

Eva Saether with Alagi Mbye and Reza Shayesteh

section, describing the Persian music school in Malmö, the same field of tension gives the energy, now from the perspective of a musician living in exile. Reza Shayesteh, the founder and teacher of the school, left Iran 26 years ago, when he was 22 years old. He was planning to go to America, but after a few months in Germany, he found himself in Yugoslavia, and from there he eventually came to Sweden. The Iranian-​Swedish association music school in its present form has existed for 8 years, but in total Reza Shayesteh has taught Persian music in Malmö for 13 years. There is a constant flow of students. Most of them are Iranians in exile, using the music school not only to learn music but also to create a sense of “home.” The school is open every Saturday and Sunday between 10 a.m. and 2 p.m., and on average between 15 and 25 students of all ages and occupations spend their weekends there, playing, drinking tea, practicing and listening. Over the years about 300 to 400 persons have participated, for longer or shorter periods. “That is good enough. It is good, because my aim is to spread the music, it should not die for those who don’t live in Iran.”

The Exile In Iran, before his exile, Reza had not thought of becoming a musician. He used to sing at parties, and he played a little guitar and keyboard. He loved music, but his parents never encouraged that interest. A meeting with a setar master and Sufi dervish gave his desire for music a new dimension. “I was asked to take care of him for a few months. Of course, I met him at the train station in Belgrad, we found each other immediately and the same evening we climbed the mulberry tree outside my flat—​because we had no instruments.” The master showed which part of the tree should be sawed off: they went to a carpenter to cut it, then they bought a saucepan to boil the wood, and in a Turkish shop they found saz strings that they used instead of the gut strings that they could not get. “I still have that instrument, that little setar has a lot of power.” For eight months the setar changed hands between the master and the apprentice. “It was very intense, I gave him a place to sleep and food, and I played—​I was so thirsty.” Reza describes it as a gift, a gift he thinks everyone deserves to be able to be complete as a human being.

Identity and Duty To Reza Shayesteh music has a duty, it must help human beings to live in harmony and peace. A person’s identity and culture needs the music, he says. Music is all over the world, in all cultures, “so it is important, no matter what kind of music it is. It is like a language. It is a tool to communicate with other people, but it is something else when you speak your own language.” Most of the students at the school do not stay long enough to reach a high level of performance, but it seems as if there is a constant need for exiled Iranians to come to the music school. “It is like that with our thoughts and memories, you feel attached to that music. Of course they want to learn a little too, but sometimes we

Intercultural Tensions and Creativity

49

even have people who just come to listen and look at the instruments.” This strong yearning for the home culture creates a demanding climate for Reza as a music pedagogue. Above all, it is the driving force for him to devote all his weekends to the school, with very little economic profit. It also gives him a constantly changing group of students, some of them present only to relive that same yearning.

Everyday Life in Teaching The method of teaching at the Persian music school is clearly influenced by Reza Shayesteh’s experiences of his first master. It is the intensive meeting between the master and the apprentice that he tries to implement, even within the framework of a school. There are no fixed times for each individual student, and the master walks around, trying to give to each student what is needed, most of the time just by listening and playing. “But first of all you need to have contact with your student, it is like two people who can’t talk with each other, you need to understand each other, it is communication, but through music. So you have to be smart and intuitively feel how the other person is. What can you say to her or ask her to do?” The first thing Reza mentions when talking about creativity is how he has to be creative in different teaching situations. Sometimes there is a student who just cannot do what the others thought was easy. “Then I  have to do something that I have not tried before. What I usually do is that I try to think about things we do in everyday life, for example walk.” When a student says that it is difficult to understand rhythm he might say: “It is in your nature. If you walk, you walk with rhythm, your pulse, your heart, it is a rhythm. So you have it. You just have to find it.” That is how Reza Shayesteh thinks about himself: as a teacher, as someone who helps the student to find what is already there.

Decorating the Palace Reza cannot remember that any of his masters ever mentioned creativity. It is just something you do, “I think we all have it, without thinking about it, we just do it. But I learn more and more about it, the more I teach.” The metaphor that the master in Belgrad used to teach creativity was the palace. He would, for example, introduce a dastgah (modal structure) as a palace, a place where the apprentice could easily get lost. But with music, the master will take his student’s hand and walk through, for example, the Mahour palace (Mahour is one of the seven modal structures). They would visit the library, the bathroom, the kitchen, the bedrooms, and the corridors. When the student knows every corner of the palace, he can start to decorate it by himself. Maybe he finds a painting that he wants to move from one room to the other—​but one can never take the painting outside the palace! As Reza Shayesteh has traveled a lot and visited “palaces” in many different musical cultures, his decorations are influenced by what he has met. “You learn something from one master, something else from another master: of course when I make a tune it smells and tastes different from if it comes from a little village in Iran. But

50

Eva Saether with Alagi Mbye and Reza Shayesteh

the painting must never leave the palace. That is what is important.” The notion of the palace contains both freedom and limits. You should create something new, but there are limits that are open to interpretation.

Fields of Tension The approaches to learning and teaching in the Gambian example (exclusion) and the Iranian-​Swedish example (the palace), both emanate from dissociation and breaking the equilibrium (as in the opening quotation from Vygotsky). In Maalis Music School the students are encouraged to make “mistakes,” or find their own ways in the world, with guidance from ancient mythology. At the Persian music school in Malmö it is the experiences from living in exile that provide motivation and inspiration. If equilibrium is an obstacle to and dissociation necessary for creativity, one way of understanding creativity would be to look at fields of tension. As Lundberg, Malm, and Ronström (2000) point out, there are many contradicting tendencies in contemporary musical life in multicultural societies, all of them important in the production of similarities and differences. Lundberg, Malm, and Ronström (2000) identify three fields of tension as being the most important dichotomies in the musical life of multicultural societies. With regard to the examples used in this chapter it makes sense to look at the spaces between the extreme ends of these poles, as follows, where power is produced. 1. Homogenous—​diversified. On a global scale some aspects of music tend to be more and more uniform. The same type of institutions and schools, mediated music and performance practices can be found all over the world. On the other hand, styles and variations grow in number, creating more diversity. When, for example, jali Alagi Mbye implements his experiences from Western music academies in his own music school, he adds oral teaching methods and the Mandinka concept of creativity, contributing to the energy in this dichotomy. 2. Pure—​mixed. On one hand we find tendencies to protect pure traditional styles, on the other we find more and more mixtures of traditions. When Reza Shayesteh fights for the protection of Iranian music in exile, he adds his experiences from playing with other musicians in exile, changing the flavor of the improvisations, but, as he says, “without moving outside the palace”; staying within the frames, moving in the field of tension. 3. Global—​local. Many musical styles are spread all over the world, often with the help of cyberspace. These global styles are accompanied by local styles, of great importance to many people, perhaps increasingly so in a postmodern world of borrowing and bricolage. Both Jali Alagi Mbye and Reza Shayesteh are part of the world music movement and play in different mixed ensembles. But they also cultivate their own local styles, thus nurturing both ends of the field of tension.

Intercultural Tensions and Creativity

51

The Approach in Use As Schippers (2010) states, world music in schools might hold both “the greatest promise and the greatest challenges” (p. 134). For those initiatives that, in spite of difficulties, have started a process of change toward inclusion of diversity he suggests a tool that might help navigating the unknown territory: the Twelve Continuum Transmission Framework (TCTF). In his model there are 12 fields of tension, grouped into four categories: issues of context, modes of transmission, dimensions of interaction, and approaches to cultural diversity (Schippers, 2010, p. 163). All these fields of tension can be used to describe and develop teaching and learning situations or processes. I have here chosen to present the fields of tension in the category modes of transmission (see fig. 3.1). In the examples of the Gambian and the Iranian-​Swedish music schools, the modes of transmission tend to lean to the right side of the arrows in Figure 3.1. When Western students, trained in a context where the emphases are on the left, opposite side, encounter these “right side” modes, their normal associations are broken. And when traditional masters encounter modes from the opposite side of the arrow, their equilibrium is broken. In both cases the tension gives energy to creativity. There are boundless ways this might be manifested as creative practice. Some start new schools, like jali Alagi Mbye and Reza Shayesteh. Some change their own ways of teaching, within existing institutional frameworks. Others include consultants from different cultures in their educational work or research. To some, the creativity is more of an inward construct, like a silent attitude, or an insight. All of these possibilities are of importance to a music teacher, working in a world of multiplicity. For interesting examples of European model projects, see

analytic

notation-based

tangible

holistic

oral

intangible

Figure 3.1  Fields of tension in different modes of transmission, from Schippers (2010, p. 131).

52

Eva Saether with Alagi Mbye and Reza Shayesteh

Music in Motion: Diversity and Dialogue in Europe (Clausen, Hemetek, Saether, & EMC, 2009). The confrontation with the unknown or the intentional breaking of an equilibrium initially developed as a result of curriculum development at the Malmö Academy of Music. Music students cannot use the arsenal of methods available on world music without a pluralistic approach to music. This approach can only be realized when students are able to shift perspectives between their relation to their own musical background on the one hand and on the other their relation to other people’s backgrounds. (Lundström, 1993, p. 85, my translation)

Since 1992 the Malmö Academy of Music has offered the course “Studies in the Music of a Foreign Culture—​Gambia” (and from 2003 Argentina also, as well as individual fieldwork). It is the strong, intercultural meeting that provides opportunities for the further development of music teacher competence. Even today, 16 years after the first course, the students report that they feel as if they have been completely transformed after the three weeks in Gambia. Perhaps one day in the future they will remember it only as a nice excursion: on that day the course will no longer be needed or useful! In a report from the Gambia course of 2009, one of the students chose to express his experience as a poem (excerpt from John Säbom’s portfolio): There is snow in Njawara At home in a foreign country Lost in myself The other side of the globe Turned out to be upside down Same but very different

This student is now working as a music teacher at a school for disabled persons, with inspiration from the Gambia course. On the institutional level the intercultural approach described here is implemented in a Nordic cooperation between the Sibelius Academy, the Royal Academy of Music, Aarhus, and the Malmö Academy of Music. The master program in world music emphasizes bimusical performance skills, and includes opportunities for fieldwork in Other cultures. The first group of students started in September 2010.

Summary of Key Principles and Approaches The key principle discussed in this chapter—​breaking the equilibrium—​can be illustrated as a matter of balance, or rather imbalance. In the Figure 3.2 it is the almost

Intercultural Tensions and Creativity

53

own world view

other world view

Figure 3.2  The principle of differences, keeping the imbalance alive. The line should be imagined as constantly moving, seldom horizontal.

horizontal line between the two worldviews or musical approaches that deserves attention.6 The different fields of tensions, as described earlier in Lundberg, Malm, and Ronström (2000) and Schippers (2010), and the fields of tension in the two schools that form the core of the chapter can all be interpreted as a prerequisite for creative practice. The energy that comes from the constantly moving arrows (intercultural meetings), keeping the line not horizontal, but almost so, gives space for new interpretations and new practices, creative practices. The implication for music education, on institutional and individual levels, are that time, space, and resources are needed for differences to meet, and that fields of tension can be used as tools for creativity. Twenty-​first-​century cultures are extremely interconnected by external networking, shaping hybridity; there is no longer anything absolutely foreign or local. Authenticity has become folklore, “it is ownness simulated for others—​to whom the indigene himself belongs” (Welsh, 1999, p. 4). The intercultural process often includes, or offers, challenges. Crossing borders and breaking barriers can be painful and provoking, but seen in the light of Vygotsky’s concept of creativity, experiences of intercultural processes are essential to creativity. Hybridity seems to afford a constant interaction with foreignness, and in this context is seen as a fruitful start of a creative process: intercultural creativity.

Reflective Questions

1. In what ways has your own creative practice has been stimulated by strong meetings with the Other (be it a culture, a sound, or an approach)? 2. If you are a teacher: How can you draw your students into fields of tensions, or intentional disruption? 3. If you are a policy-​maker or school leader: How can institutions, curricula, and policy documents give space, time, and resources for differences to meet? 4. What are your own experiences of hybridity in the music classroom? 5. In what ways are your own cultural and creative experiences validated in your everyday professional life?

54

Eva Saether with Alagi Mbye and Reza Shayesteh

KEY SOURCES Campbell, P. S. (2004). Teaching music globally. Experiencing music, expressing culture. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Campbell, P. S., Drummond, J., Dunbar-​Hall, P., Howard, K., Schippers, H., & Wiggins, T. (eds.) (2005). Cultural diversity in music education: Directions and challenges for the 21st century. Brisbane, Australia: Australian Academic Press. Mans, M. (2009). Inhabiting a musical world. A  view of education and values. Dordrecht: Springer Netherlands. Nettl, B. (2005/​1983). The study of ethnomusicology. Thirty-​one issues and concepts (2nd rev. ed.). Urbana & Chicago: University of Illinois Press.

WEBSITES Center for Multicultural Education: http://​education.washington.edu/​cme/​. Cultural Diversity in Music Education:  https://​cdimenetworkdotcom.wordpress.com/​ about/​. Nordic Master of Global Music: http://​www.glomas.net/​. Society for Ethnomusicology: http://​www.ethnomusicology.org.

NOTES 1. The Russian philosopher and pedagogue Lev Vygotsky used “dissociation” to describe how we as human beings need to break the natural association of elements, to create new variations. This is further discussed later. The epigraph to this chapter is from Vygotsky, 2004, pp. 28–​29. The concept “the Other” is used in this text with inspiration from Todd (2003), who focuses on differences within educational settings, and suggests that learning from the Other—​as opposed to learning about the Other—​is a possibility. This is further discussed later. 2. Jali (or griot) is the indigenous term for the title that in Mandinka culture shows that you are a member of the jali caste, with the rights and obligations to perform a jali’s duties: play music, promote peace, and act as the singing library of the community. 3. Bulumakalang is a Mandinka expression that means “to create something new.” 4. Orature is oral literature or verbal art. The orature of Sunjata Keita is performed by jalis, and is the key to understanding of the relationship between power and authority in Mandinka society. 5. The written version was edited by Janet Badjan Young. 6. The term worldview is here used with inspiration from the concepts emic and etic, analytical tools used in anthropology. The emic construction (worldview) is the narratives, description, and analyses expressed in concepts and categories that are considered meaningful and adequate by the members of the culture.

Intercultural Tensions and Creativity

55

REFERENCES Ayman-​Nolley, S. (1992). Vygotsky’s perspective on the development of imagination and creativity. Creativity Research Journal, 5(1), 77–​85. Burnard, P. (2007). Provocations in creativity research. In L. Bresler (ed.), International handbook of research in arts education (pp. 1175–​1180). New York: Springer. Carrithers, M. (1992). Why humans have cultures. Explaining anthropology and social diversity. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Clausen, B., Hemetek, U., & Saether, E. (eds.). (2009). Music in motion. Diversity and dialogue in Europe. Verlag, Bielefeld, Germany: Transaction Publishers and the European Music Council. Knudsen, J. S. (2004) Those that fly without wings. Oslo: University of Oslo. Lahdenperä, P. (ed.). (2004). Interkulturell pedagogik i teori och praktik [Intercultural pedagogy in theory and practice]. Lund: Studentlitteratur. Lundberg, D., Malm, K., & Ronström, O. (2000). Musik, medier, mångkultur. Förändringar i svenska musiklandskap [Music, media, multiculture. Changes in Swedish music landscapes]. Hedemora: Gidlunds förlag. Lundström, H. (1993). Världsmusik eller mångkulturalism, eller . . . [World music or multiculturalism, or . . .]. In E. Saether (ed.), På jakt efter en mångkulturell musiklärarutbildning [Higher music education in a multicultural society]. (Vol. 2) (pp. 29–​37). Malmö: Malmö Academy of Music, Lund University. Saether, E. (2003). The Oral University. Attitudes to music teaching and learning in the Gambia. Malmö: Malmö Academy of Music, Lund University. Saether, E. (2011). Prescript: Travel sickness, cultural autonomy and the insider/​outsider dilemma. Finnish Journal of Music Education, 14(1), 87–​89. Schippers, H. (2010). Facing the music. Shaping music education from a global perspective. New York: Oxford University Press. Todd, S. (2003). Learning from the Other. Levinas, psychoanalysis and ethical possibilities in education. Albany: State University of New York Press. Welsh, W. (1999). Transculturality—​the puzzling form of cultures today. In M. L. Featherstone, S. M. Lash (eds.), Spaces of culture: City, nation, world (pp. 194–​213). London: Sage. Vygotsky, L. S. (1995/​1930). Fantasi och kreativitet i barndomen [Fantasy and creativity in childhood]. Göteborg: Daidalos. Vygotsky, L. S. (2004/​1930). Imagination and creativity in childhood. Journal of Russian and East European Psychology, 42, (1), 7–​97.

Chapter 4

COMMUNAL CREATIVITY AS SOCIOMUSICAL PRACTICE Eleni Lapidaki, Rokus de Groot, and Petros Stagkos

This chapter is based on the premise that the practice of creativity in university music education needs to have a communal, participatory component in order to combat perceptions of ineffectiveness, apathy, and detached reflection. We describe a project in which this communal component is realized by means of inclusive pedagogical practices in an association (a “collectivity”) formed between students at university and students at “high risk” schools. Through their active participation in the project students of music education at the university (would-​be music teachers) stop feeling that the academic teaching of music education keeps the “real world” at a distance, as their learning is enhanced by experiences of communal creativity that make social and musical links beyond the college classroom. Students at schools (referred to as “high risk” schools) who are socially, economically, culturally, and politically excluded and have limited access to the public sphere of music education, have their voices heard through music participation and creativity, and achieve a sense that they, too, are important. Calling on the power of music creativity to create social links, students can shape musical experiences by becoming socialized into an “unfamiliar” collectivity,

Communal Creativity as Sociomusical Practice

57

organize themselves, and transform their relationships to contemporary existence and politics, as we will explain later. The result is a reconfiguration of music creativity, as the music department and the school are transformed into creative spaces for collective engagement. First, we review the theoretical framework surrounding the relationship between practical socialization and the concept of creativity. We do this in order to highlight broader assumptions about, and challenges to, music creativity as the practice of social transformation and service to others. Building on this framework, we expound on music creativity as collective or communal practice that is based on a peer-​to-​peer approach. The second part of the chapter draws on learning and teaching principles that foster music-​making as the practice of “conversation” and musical polyphony on the one hand and the pedagogical values of democratic collaboration and responsibility on the other. In other words, music creativity viewed as sociomusical practice presents a path to socialization, inclusion, and political awareness and, at the same time, is a means to enhance musical outputs by offering pedagogic techniques and approaches based on social settings and contexts. In the third part of the chapter we describe the creativity-​ based project C.A.L.M. (Community Action in Learning Music)—​a project that has growing participation—​as a pointed and unique form of sociomusical practice. C.A.L.M. is devised to help students—​both in the university and in “neglected” Greek and Cypriot schools—​to enrich their experiential learning through the development of musical practices that take place in, and through, the intersection of the musical worlds of the university and the school.

Theoretical Framework Before moving to the discussion of practice with regard to music creativity in education, it is helpful to set a minimal theoretical framework for music creativity in the educational context of this chapter. Music creativity is viewed here as a “complicated set of engagements” in both composition and improvisation (Webster, 2009), which involve a wide range of cultural and social components that have to be learned and transmitted in classroom settings at all educational levels. More specifically, it is important for all students to learn about musical beliefs, attitudes, gestures, styles of art, popular music of diverse provenance, “world” music, and art forms other than music and technology, as well as other cultural influences that stimulate their minds to creativity. It gives them the opportunity to discover the things, past and present, that may find a “resonance” in themselves and thus develop and transform their creativity into something original and innovative (Lapidaki, 2007).

58

Eleni Lapidaki, Rokus de Groot, and Petros Stagkos

Music Creativity as Practical Socialization Throughout the aforementioned process, from the conception of a germinal idea to its successive internalization, transformation, and crystallization into music, the importance of learning as an engagement and action has been a major development in music education research (e.g., Burnard, 2006). In other words, theoretical and empirical research emphasizes the need to pay attention to the ways students “internalize” sounds and make meaning from this experience (Webster, 2009, p. 425). Yet, the emergence of an interesting facet of what is now referred to as “practice theory” in sociological literature (e.g., Wacquant, 2004) calls for a special type of explanation of music creativity that has not been adequately treated in music education literature: specifically, that creativity comes to be learned, transmitted, and produced as a predominately collective or communal activity in which members of this collectivity learn through a peer-​to-​peer approach. In this sense, practice is considered as a series of intellectual, mental, physical, aural, visual, tactile, and/​ or gestural exchanges between peers; and, in turn, creativity is regarded as being a means of practical socialization. Loïc Wacquant (an important sociologist in the development of this facet of practice theory, and a student and collaborator of Pierre Bourdieu), when speaking about the “culture” in a boxing gym, asserts that individuals learn by embodying or “somatizing” (Wacquant, 2004, p. 99) the meaning of the actions of the other members of this social collectivity. According to Wacquant (2004) learning is “not a dialogue between the sole teacher and his pupil but rather a conversation of multiple voices open to all the regular participants in the workout” (p. 113). With regard to music creativity, this participatory parameter of practice implies that learning becomes more sensible and effective in social contexts, in which the tacit knowledge and skills of music’making are collectively mediated and communally motivated by “watching, listening to, and feeling the energy” of the group in action (Stephens & Delamont, 2006, p. 113). As Wacquant (2004) put it, “if there are fewer than four or five [boxers practicing in the gym], the ‘collective effervescence’ effect is nullified and one disposes of too few models in action, or the models are too remote to spur you on” (p. 123). It is in this sense that music creativity is viewed as an alloy between the musical and the social, the somatic and the intellectual, the educational and the communal (Lizardo, 2010).

Key Principles By placing communal practice at the center of music creativity, we offer music education which is open to interdisciplinarity and service to others. The key principles discussed here aim to help students shape musical experiences by becoming

Communal Creativity as Sociomusical Practice

59

socialized into “unfamiliar” collectivities and transform their relationships to contemporary existence and politics.

Music Creativity as Practice to “Make the  Familiar Strange” Music education research shows that novice music teachers enter music classrooms with a wide range of culturally deep-​rooted, unscrutinized, risk-​averse, and incorrect assumptions about what constitutes “good” music teaching in relation to music creativity (Lapidaki, 2009; Sullivan et al., 2008). Moreover, practical matters cause novice music teachers to feel a lack of confidence about “how a lesson actually happens: sitting arrangements, organization and distribution of instruments, controlling noise level and behavior” (Hennessy, 2000, p. 194), or they think that “good” teaching is a matter of “teaching persona.” Furthermore, referring to composition, Kennedy (2002, p. 103) claims that “there remains an elusiveness about composing that causes many persons, and especially teachers, to avoid stepping into what they deem as uncharted waters.” It would seem that music education students’ academic preparation often neglects to provide them with educational experiences that anticipate the nature of their future lives. However, if we opt to transform the teaching environment for practical socialization, these recurring adverse diagnoses of music education can be changed by creating new, unique music pedagogical practices right from students’ earliest encounters with the “familiar” classroom setting (both in the university and at the schools). From early on in their education music students should be encouraged to experience a variety of roles, relationships, and spaces that provide insight into children’s creativity. This will expand their intellectual and musical capabilities and, thus, enhance their confidence. The need to learn to “make the familiar strange” is emphasized by Howard Becker (cited in Delamont et al., 2010, p. 3) as follows: I think, instead, that it is first and foremost a matter of it all being so familiar that it becomes impossible to single out events that occur in the classroom as things that have occurred, even when they happen right in front of you. I have not had the experience of observing in elementary and high school classrooms myself, but I have in college classrooms and it takes a tremendous effort of will and imagination to stop seeing only the things that are conventionally “there” to be seen.

More specifically, the “familiarity problem” in education calls for situated learning and communal practice. According to Delamont et  al. (2010), one of the five strategies they propose to fight familiarity is “taking the viewpoint of actors other than the commonest types of ‘teachers’ and ‘students’ in ordinary state schools. (This can mean focusing on unusual settings in the school system)” (p. 5). Accordingly, instead of focusing on conventional student versus teacher relationships inside formal educational settings, one such unusual setting that we propose (in relation to music creativity practice) is when students teach students

60

Eleni Lapidaki, Rokus de Groot, and Petros Stagkos

in collectivities between the university and “high risk” schools in low-​income communities. In this paradigm of communal creativity in unusual or unfamiliar educational settings we can prevent “powerful cultural influence on behavior and imagination of those who occupy its spaces: adults and children alike” (Thompson, cited in McCarthy, 2010, p.  5) and help all participants (both university students and school children of “high risk” schools) immerse themselves in music creativity in a way that “recognizes and engages their rights, agency, and status as competent social actors” (Oberg and Ellis, cited in McCarthy, 2010, p. 5).

Communal Creativity as Practice for Social Transformation Although the recognition of the social and political empowerment that creativity provides to artists and artists’ communities is a major subject of cultural and media studies literature, music education theory and research have been slow to recognize the potential of music creativity to socially and politically empower students in formal educational settings. As McCarthy (2010) asserts, only in spaces of musical play and in private spaces for music-​making has music education research acknowledged that “children are not powerless” (p. 7). Therefore, this chapter proposes the paradigm of an unusual formal educational setting in which students teach students; this setting may provide the space for student empowerment through the practice of music creativity. More specifically, by building educational settings of mutual learning between music students at university and students at “high risk” public schools with a multicultural student body that does not have easy access to formal music education, we can explore the potential of music creativity to break down divisions between social groups on the one hand and develop capacities and skills for self-​reliant political action and service to the others on the other. In this context, when we say that music creativity in education has a political component, we are referring to that aspect of politics in education that is concerned with the empowerment of “institutional nonentities” (McQuillan, 2005, p. 640): the music students (would-​be music teachers) at the university who are not yet members of the institutionalized group of music teachers on the one hand, and on the other the students of “neglected” schools who are deprived of having their own voices heard through music participation and creativity at school. From this perspective, two things must be emphasized. There are the groups of these students (i.e., undergraduate music students and students of “neglected” schools) who, in terms of formal power, “claim a share because they are excluded from the public sphere” of the music education system (Rancière & Höller, 2007, p. 21). But there is also the fact that politics (in education) is not a simple redistribution of resources between institutionalized social groups, as the neoliberal discourse in education proclaims. It is the realization of the power of those who are not

Communal Creativity as Sociomusical Practice

61

members of any specific recognized group. In other words, politics is considered as the “collective capacity of those who have no specific capacity,” or what Jacques Rancière called “the power of anybody” (p. 21). Music creativity as socially and politically defined practice can boost the university music students’ confidence by providing them with musical experiences that stem from their personal, and the school children’s collective, musical participation in an ongoing process to democratize music education. Empowering both groups of students (from the university and the “high risk” schools) to creatively explore the connections with each other through music-​making challenges them to move across formally distinct areas of musical knowledge. By giving creativity the same capacity for democratizing music education that Rancière gives to politics, we are prioritizing music education in terms of its potential to effect shifts of creative thinking in music. The critical reconsideration of the cultural and social contexts and institutions in which creativity takes place, along with the development of capacities for civic engagement and service to others, are precisely concerns that can give music creativity not only practical but ethical and pedagogical leverage. Contemporary practices of communal creativity can also address issues of human rights through exposing deprived and contested educational sites and musical worlds, which continue to languish (Stagkos, 2006). Moreover, it is exactly with changes in (1) individual and collective practices of musical and social behavior, and (2) thinking about music creativity, in terms of empowered participation, that we can bridge the barriers that exist between the potential importance of music creativity in education and the scant attention it receives from other musical and educational fields and the public as a whole.

Learning and Teaching Principles The learning and teaching principles discussed here foster music-​making as the practice of:

1. A learning culture of musical conversation and transgression 2. Musical and metaphorical polyphony 3. Pedagogical values of democratic collaboration and responsibility

Creating a Learning Culture of Conversation and Transgression In educational theory, the environment that feeds practical socialization is defined as a “learning culture” (e.g., James & Biesta, 2007), largely because it facilitates and

62

Eleni Lapidaki, Rokus de Groot, and Petros Stagkos

fosters participation in social practice as the primary form of learning—​something that resonates with the aforementioned ideas of Loïc Wacquant (2004) about learning. The suggestion here is that, in a learning culture, learning ceases to exclusively be a solipsistic process and becomes peer-​to-​peer in nature, as it involves a “process of collective but non-​directed teaching from role models to novices” (Lizardo, 2010, p.  719). In this respect, learning is generated by “conversation of multiple voices” (Wacquant, 2004, p. 113) among participating individuals who, in the course of the conversation, can reinterpret their world and their relationship to it, continuously challenging their own views and practices in an attempt to improve, change, and transgress sociocultural meanings. In such an environment, in which music creativity is seen as sociomusical practice, students become creative in music making by sharing, discussing, provoking and arguing with each other, and, thus, transforming both their social and musical behavior. Most important, however, by means of this peer-​to-​peer approach, the pedagogical role of the music teachers and experts is expanded. As participants in a learning culture, composing and improvising, the teachers’ tutelage feeds into, and feeds off, an ongoing conversation. This is done through the teachers’ own music creativity and by allowing their students to share in the evolution of their own musical thinking, discoveries, influences, and day-​to-​day progress. Along these lines, students have the opportunity to learn how their teachers, along with the other students, make use of available knowledge and apply their knowledge to the various musical problems that arise during the creative acts of composition and improvisation. Thus, music teachers’ creative processes do not become the “prototypes” of critical thinking in music but the trigger of productive musical conflict, resistance, transformation, and transgression—​important sources of music creativity (Boulez, 1986). Peer beliefs, attitudes, group compositions and improvisations, criticisms, and feedback are indispensable elements for increasing musical socialization and challenging the students’ musical beliefs and ideas before, during, and after their creative endeavors. However, music educators appear to pay little attention to the importance of students’ personal and social conflict when they have to choose between staying within a tradition or code (even if it is the Western popular music tradition) and breaking new ground. In summary, a conversation of multiple voices provides an opportunity for every participant in a music classroom to become a source for transformation and transgression; each is given the chance to be the impetus for the other participants and receive inspiration from others (Lapidaki, 2007). Moreover, new musical meanings can be created that question conventional or popular ones. In addition, these new meanings have the potential to transgress the boundaries of informal music-​making (e.g., Green, 2002) that can sometimes lead students to “a kind of music that we are hearing far too much or too often” (Reynolds, 1988, p. 22).

Communal Creativity as Sociomusical Practice

63

Musical Polyphony as a “Conversation of Multiple Voices” What can music offer to this endeavor of creating a learning culture as a “conversation of multiple voices” (Wacquant, 2004, p. 113)? Since we are dealing with music education, we look for particularly musical devices. In the context of projects involving students from widely different backgrounds we are drawn to the study of musical polyphony. Polyphony implies the simultaneity of different voices. “Voice” is a configuration of pitches in time, each with a distinctive profile. The term can be used for a single melodic line but—​by extension—​also for a group of such lines in relation to other such groups (as does, for instance, Boulez, 1971) or even musical styles. Usually polyphony rests on the conception of equality between voices. There is typically no domination of one voice over the others, and if there is, it is usually temporary as the role of prominence switches from one voice to another. Polyphony arises out of two kinds of activity:  contrapuntal and harmonic. Counterpoint relates to the difference in pitch and rhythm between simultaneous voices (which may use the same melodic pattern but not at the same time), while harmony has to do with the mutual attuning between contrapuntal voices, for example, in terms of euphony—​consonance and dissonance—​prevailing in the particular historic or existing cultural traditions. “Harmonic” is not the same as “harmonious.” Polyphony, like Johann Sebastian Bach’s, may entail a great deal of dissonance. Polyphony, in this sense, has been developed in, for example, Polynesia, Central Africa, and Europe. The concept can be extended to both “metrical” and “rhythmical” voices (polymetrics, polyrhythm) so as to include a much larger array of musical traditions. In this case the “harmonic” activity is found in the activity of (rhythmic) complementarity. The great attractiveness of polyphony is that it implies attention to both the individual voices and to the ensemble. Boulez (1971) uses an intriguing expression for the relation between voices in polyphony: “mutual responsibility,” that is, literally, “ability to respond.” In the following elaboration we will refer to the work of Edward Said, which contains ample reflections about polyphony, using the key notions of pleasure, inclusiveness, discipline, and invention (De Groot, 2005, 2007). In the context of peer-​to-​peer group learning a “voice” may be understood as the musical potential that each group, as well as each individual, brings with them. Polyphony does justice to the complexity of our experience and offers the challenge of dealing with the heterogeneous. Moreover, musical polyphony may be recognized by the young participants as acting on aspects of their emotional and intellectual development, as it did in the case of Edward Said. In spite of being brought up in a well-​to-​do family and being educated in the best schools of Cairo, it was his own exploration, particularly of Western classical music, that he felt was essential for these developments. In relation to an “inner, far less compliant and private self ” (as opposed to a socially adapted self) he speaks of an “emerging sense of complexity, complexity for its own sake, unresolved, unreconciled, perhaps finally

64

Eleni Lapidaki, Rokus de Groot, and Petros Stagkos

unassimilated” (Said, 2000, p. 164). And later on he writes: “By ‘complexity’ I mean a kind of reflection and self-​reflection that had a coherence of its own” (p. 165). Though the qualifications “unreconciled” and having “a coherence” seem contradictory, the very combination is characteristic of polyphony: the voices—​inner voices in this case—​are irreducible, while involved in processes of mutual attuning. Respect for individual difference should not only hold for the participating peer groups but also for the individuals (their “social” as well as “private” selves, in Said’s terms) within those groups, free to resist peer group pressure to conform to fashion. It is clear that the development of polyphony is exacting, involving processes of maturation socially, emotionally, and certainly also intellectually. While employing music in educational endeavors, it is important to pay attention to two sides of musical practice: as a social activity and as an artistic one, belonging to the realm of the aesthetic. Music has inspired many thinkers to observations about the tension between art and society. We think that this tension should not be reduced, either to a social or to an aesthetic frame, but recognized as fruitful for mental development. Along these lines, Said (1991, p. xiv) emphasized that music is an elaboration of civic society, while at the same time he viewed music as seemingly autonomous from the social world. To him, music—​and art in general—​should keep at some distance from social determination, in order to provide alternatives to dominant modes of behavior. In the context of musical polyphony being employed in projects for social emancipation, as proposed here, one may question the emphasis on the formal side of music. Katherine Fry (2008) has amply reflected on this question. She draws attention to Said’s emphasis on the “critical potential of formal processes over representations and ideology in artworks,” polyphony in particular. In her view, the significance of Said’s thinking on polyphony and the temporal structure of certain musical works and performances is “an aesthetic paradigm for undermining fixed identity and linear or totalizing narratives” (Fry, 2008, p.  278). In this vein, as a starting point, one may engender a polyphonic attitude in students, as a mental preparation for social and political action, without necessarily entering into specific ideological discussions.

Polyphony as Metaphor Interestingly, various thinkers have sounded out the possibility of using musical polyphony as a metaphor in the social and (inter)cultural sense in a globalizing/​ localizing world. This may be taken up for the further exploration of polyphony in music educational projects as envisaged in this chapter. Edward Said’s work is one striking example of the metaphorical use of polyphony. In fact, he proposes to develop a polyphonic or contrapuntal mental orientation in dealing with the multifarious “voices” in the reading of colonial and postcolonial sources, that is, without reducing any of these voices to another one. Evidently this is a polyphonic quality.

Communal Creativity as Sociomusical Practice

65

Especially in Said’s (1994) book Culture and Imperialism we meet polyphony and counterpoint as a metaphor time and again, as he emphasizes that we must be able to think through and interpret together experiences that are discrepant, each with its particular agenda and pace of development, its own internal formations, its internal coherence and system of external relationships, all of them coexisting and interacting with others. (p. 32)

Since musical polyphony has been developed in various cultural traditions, we may assume that it belongs to human competence. One component of music education is to make the participants familiar with these great examples of human pleasure, inclusiveness, discipline, and invention. This will whet the student’s appetite. While assessing these polyphonic practices as possible models for communal creativity of socially and culturally heterogeneous groups of music learners in a “conversation of multiple voices,” the participants may learn mutual responsibility for both each other’s and their own differences of voice, as well as for the enhancing collectivity of them.

Communal Creativity as an Expression of Pedagogical Values Research in music education (e.g., Frierson-​Campbell, 2007) suggests that music teachers feel unprepared when they first start teaching; that they have to “start from scratch” (Mills, 1996), in order to adapt their practices to classroom reality in the primary years of teaching. Moreover, research findings (e.g., Soto et al., 2009) show that cross-​institutional collaboration and communication between universities and schools can bridge this “two-​worlds pitfall” (Anagnostopoulos et al., 2007, p. 138). However, most of these studies address partnership issues in the education of preservice, apprentice, or student teachers and not of undergraduate music students. (An exception is the yearlong collaboration project Music Alive! in the Valley, between music education students and faculty at a university with an elementary school in a Mexican-​American migrant community [Soto et al., 2009].) Most university collaborations with schools take place in practicum (practical applications) courses that are devised to complement theory courses. Thus, the pursuit of academic knowledge appears to perpetuate the traditional gap between theory and practice, despite the university’s commitment to offer students on-​the-​ground experiences at schools. Moreover, instead of enriching the mutual learning between university students and school pupils, most university-​school collaborations are designed to primarily enrich university students’ experiential learning in school settings. Given these shortcomings of collaborative practices, communal practice of music creativity presents challenges with regard to: the pedagogical values that aim to socialize students for new roles (Lapidaki, 2014); transforming the experience

66

Eleni Lapidaki, Rokus de Groot, and Petros Stagkos

of school-​university partnership; and possibly bridging the “two-​worlds pitfall.” More specifically, what is clear is that the musical outcomes that are generated and actualized within the context of the learning culture are interdependent on the practice of democratic collaboration. Democratic collaboration is based on mutual learning processes that are beneficial to the whole community of learners, helping them to understand their impact on the world. As hooks (1994) claims:  “only through such practice—​in which those who help and those who are being helped help each other simultaneously—​can the act of helping become free from the distortion in which the helper dominates the helped” (p. 54). Furthermore, democratic collaboration results in a strong sense of pedagogical responsibility; that is, the ability to reflect and respond to sociocultural, socioeconomic, and political contexts of action. Only when participants feel that they are part of a solution through their active involvement in communal creativity are they geared up to make decisions that take into consideration a host of situated factors (see also Burnard, 2006)  and to take risks on new approaches. Speaking about her course “Foundations of Modern Education,” which aims to help sophomore students to express their own pedagogical values through practice in “real world” teaching settings, Barbara Stengel says that she considers pedagogical responsibility a response to situations “over the virtue of one’s own intentions” (Sullivan et  al., 2008, p. 41). In summary, the practice of the pedagogical values of democratic collaboration and responsibility can motivate and empower students to make connections with other groups (e.g., with other students, especially, in schools with “high needs”) and thus shape new social contexts through cross-​institutional and cross-​age practices. But what might these teaching and learning principles look like in practice? How can we turn them into responsible pedagogical action through music creativity?

Case Description The aim of the remainder of this chapter is to document learning and teaching processes of the university/​at-​risk-​schools collaboration project C.A.L.M., which was founded at the Department of Music Studies at Aristotle University of Thessaloniki, in Thessaloniki, Greece (Lapidaki, 2009).

The Project The concept of C.A.L.M. is multifaceted. As the name suggests, the project involves music learning that hopefully engenders socially meaningful action; that builds and develops music learning through a peer-​to-​peer learning approach. It is also

Communal Creativity as Sociomusical Practice

67

the forum for undergraduate music students to participate and show their music and educational judgment and competence not in “fictive problems and lessons” (p. 368) or “through playing to teach music” (p. 370), in Ferm’s (2008) terms, but by exercising pedagogical responsibility in the “real world,” in response to multiple hidden sociocultural and political practices that lie ahead in their future professional lives as music teachers. Therefore, the role of music creativity within the framework of C.A.L.M. is threefold:





1. To build music collectivities between university music students and students of public elementary, secondary, and hospital schools, which are “neglected” due to geographical, economic, cultural and/​or political isolation, with only limited access to formal music education. 2. To play a significant part in the musical development of both students at schools and hospital schools and music students at the university by providing a forum for the musical expression of culturally and socially meaningful ideas and perceptions, using an original “students teaching students” approach. All students participating in the project go beyond their roles as music teachers and students by sharing their “truths” with each other. 3. To become an agent of democratic practice toward cultural inclusion and social transformation according to the desired behavior of the “European Citizen” as it is enshrined in the Charter of Fundamental Rights of the European Union and the Convention for the Protection of Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms (Stagkos, 2006).

In sum, C.A.L.M. implements the conceptual framework of communal creativity as sociomusical practice (see fig. 4.1) that exemplifies the following ideas that have been introduced and discussed in the previous sections of this chapter:

• Practical socialization and communal practice (Wacquant, 2004) • Creation of “unfamiliar” learning settings (Delamont et al., 2010; McCarthy, 2010) • Democratic participation and social transformation (Rancière & Höller, 2007) • Musical polyphony and the conversation of multiple voices (Said, 1991, 2000) • Development of pedagogical values in collaborative practices (Sullivan et al., 2008)

Method of Practice C.A.L.M. is unique in that it is (1) an ongoing (since 2000) and sustainable project; (2) soundly integrated into ethnically and culturally diverse K–​12 classrooms in low-​ income communities; and (3) devised to enrich both university and school music

68

Eleni Lapidaki, Rokus de Groot, and Petros Stagkos Social Transformation and Service to Others Development of Pedagogical Values Collaborative Practice Between Musical Worlds (e.g., university and deprived educational sites) Mutual Learning Culture Through Musical Polyphony, Conversation, and Transgression Creative Activity (Composition and Improvisation Through Practical Socialization)

Figure 4.1  The conceptual framework of communal creativity as sociomusical practice.

education through the development of musical practices that take place through the intersection of the musical worlds of the university and the school. Each semester the 20–​25 fourth-​or fifth-​year students who enroll in the course “Music Education,” which encompasses C.A.L.M. in the kernel of its syllabus, create teams of two or three students. For one semester each student team “adopts” a class at a “high risk” elementary or secondary public school in order to explore musical and pedagogical pathways that engage all participants in meaningful music-​making. At the end of each semester, each “adopted” class, with their respective undergraduate student team, visits a hospital school, where they share with students with health problems what they have learned throughout the semester. The hospital students are encouraged to participate in collaborative and expressive music activities. In this way the chain of “students teaching students” grows, and music creativity as collective engagement becomes more meaningful and pedagogically responsible.

Participants The music students who participate in C.A.L.M.  acquire their first music educational experiences in performance from conservatory-​type schools where students of any age may enroll and individual “classical instrumental tuition” (Green, 2002,

Communal Creativity as Sociomusical Practice

69

p. 128) reflects formal learning practices, attitudes, and values that originate from nineteenth-​century European “classical” music. As Hargreaves et al. (2002) claim, this value system “implies that music is something, which exists ‘out there,’ in a sense, independently of those activities that bring it to life” (p. 12); as if musicians work “in a vacuum” (Harvey, 1999, p. 81). The main characteristics of the music students who become music teachers for one semester are the following:

1. They are in the higher semesters of their university studies—​semesters that are mostly musicological and music theoretical in nature. 2. They have a solid practical base in music performance and musical craftsmanship, the greatest part of which they obtain in music conservatories or conservatory-​type schools. 3. They have never taught music in a school classroom before.

The Greek and Cypriot schools that music students choose to teach at have limited access to formal music education, expression, and creativity. These schools are mostly located in economically disadvantaged areas, urban or provincial, and their student body is predominately comprised of students of minority ethnic groups who are, by and large, children of economic immigrants. Furthermore, these schools are not associated with the university under any official educational partnership or framework. The music students have to search for such schools by themselves and, after going through many difficult administrative and bureaucratic challenges, obtain permission to teach music. Thus, students are confronted early on by issues related to the political contexts of the schooling enterprise, for as Frierson-​Campbell (2007) claims, “these challenges are magnified for those who teach in high-​needs schools” (p. 33).

Challenges and Benefits This first teaching experience in an actual school setting gives the music students and school children the opportunity to develop original and imaginative compositions and improvisations of different musical styles (for examples of students’ creativity, see http://​calm.web.auth.gr/​StudentsPage/​students_​Intro.html). The music students also bring to the classroom a large variety of physically and aurally interesting (for both college and school students) acoustic (Western and non-​Western) and electric instruments (e.g., Sarah Hopkins’s Harmonic Whirlies, theremins, the Persephone synthesizer by Eowave) and digital interactive music devices (e.g., Audiocubes by Percussa, the Wii by Nintendo, and Soundbeam 5, among others) from C.A.L.M.’s growing collection. The choice of instruments aims to help music students and school pupils develop “a new refreshing aura of boldness, surprise, and a sense of breaking through old rules and stepping into new territories” (Lapidaki, 2007, p. 111) via the musical creativity that collectively takes place in the classrooms.

70

Eleni Lapidaki, Rokus de Groot, and Petros Stagkos

At this point, it should be noted that university students are not confined by mentor teachers’ practices, since the schools where they go to teach do not have music teachers. As Anagnostopoulos et al. (2007) claim: “for our part, we viewed the mentors as limiting interns’ learning-​to-​teach opportunities and promoting ineffective practices” (p. 140). Besides using journals and portfolios as learning tools, each group’s teaching experiences are videotaped and shown, discussed, evaluated, and validated by their peers and professor during three-​hour weekly sessions. The important thing about these sessions (which are open to schoolteachers and administrators of the “adopted” schools) is the collegiality and sharing that grows as the sessions progress. By sharing and critically reflecting on their personal stories from their classroom teaching, and through their videos, audio recordings, journals, and portfolios, students create a bond that makes them feel that they are not alone. They also realize that their own experiences are in line with the music creativity theories and research that they study throughout the semester and that “actually they had academic merit,” as Erin Gruwell (Freedom Writers & Gruwell, 2009, p.  xxi) recalls when explaining the teaching practices she developed. In this way, academic knowledge and self-​reliant practice of music creativity build a mutually enlightening relationship that is based on the exercise of democratic principles, social action, and pedagogical responsibility.

Conclusion As revealed in this chapter, peer-​to-​peer music learning is regarded as a means for communal music creativity to sustain students’ sociomusical insights and negotiate their role as artists in learning cultures that bring diverse individuals together, facilitating their musical participation, expression, and creativity. The key issues explored and exemplified in the C.A.L.M.  case study may be summarized as follows:



• Music creativity is learned as a series of intellectual, mental, physical, aural, visual, tactile, and/​or gestural exchanges among peers, and, in turn, becomes a means of practical socialization. • The creation of unfamiliar collectivities of practical socialization in formal educational settings, as, for instance, in collaborations between university music students and students of “high risk” schools, is central to gaining new insights into participants’ music creativity. • Collective participation in the practice of music creativity contributes to students’ social and political empowerment by helping them develop capacities for civic engagement and service to others. • Peer-​to-​peer learning that is based on the “conversation of multiple voices” stimulates the creation of new sociomusical behaviors and meanings.

Communal Creativity as Sociomusical Practice



71

• The metaphorical use of musical polyphony implies attention to both the individual “voices” and the ensemble. A polyphonic attitude in which the “voices” are irreducible, while at the same time, involved in processes of mutual attuning, serves as a mental preparation for students for social and political action. • Democratic collaborations between music departments and “high risk” schools that are based on mutual learning processes—​beneficial to the whole community of learners—​help students develop a strong sense of pedagogical responsibility.

Research on music creativity to date has been mainly—​but not exclusively—​ concerned with understanding the ways students internalize sounds through music-​ making and, thus, make meaning from this experience. Yet there is a need for further research exploring issues of music creativity as practical and communal action; for music educators “are obligated to act, to perform, to ‘mess up with the world’ ” (Sullivan et al., 2008, p. vii), adding a greater sense of purpose to their music teaching and to their students’ music creativity. The placement of social goals and actions in the core of music education course syllabi is also imperative in order to provide students with educational experiences that anticipate the nature of their future lives. The idea of obliging students to be creative—​without the “social link”—​runs the risk of making music creativity a senseless and predictable academic exercise.

Reflective Questions

1. How can we turn “practice theory” into creative pedagogical action? 2. Can a music undergraduate student learn to make the kind of social connections music teachers need to make when the student is only an observer of, or an apprentice to, a mentor teacher in a school? 3. How can interinstitutional music collaboration between university and “high risk” schools be made more effective? 4. How “big” can the group of learners be for an effective “conversation of multiple voices”? 5. Can music creativity’s community-​building potential affect the aesthetic quality of music made in classrooms and vice versa?

KEY SOURCES Clandfield, D., & Sivell, S. (eds.). (1990). Cooperative learning and social change:  Selected writings of Célestin Freinet. Toronto: James Lorimer & Company Ltd.

72

Eleni Lapidaki, Rokus de Groot, and Petros Stagkos

Marsh, K. (2008). The musical playground. Global tradition and change in children’s songs and games. New York: Oxford University Press.

WEBSITE On the website http://​calm.web.auth.gr you will find information about the project C.A.L.M., its affiliated investigators, scientific publications, and our showcase of collaborative music creativity between students of the Department of Music Studies, Aristotle University of Thessaloniki, Thessaloniki, Greece, and students at “high risk” Greek and Cypriot elementary and secondary schools.

REFERENCES Anagnostopoulos, D., Smith, E. R., & Basmadjian, K. G. (2007). Bridging the university-​ school divide:  Horizontal expertise and the “two-​worlds pitfall.” Journal of Teacher Education, 58, 138–​152. Boulez, P. (1986). Orientations. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Boulez, P. (1971). Boulez on music today (ed. & trans. S. Bradshaw & R. R. Bennet). London: Faber and Faber. Burnard, P. (2006). The individual and social worlds of children’s musical creativity. In G. E. McPherson (ed.), The child as musician (pp. 353–​374). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Delamont, S., Atkinson, P., & Pugsley, L. (2010). The concept smacks of magic: Fighting familiarity today. Teaching and Teacher Education, 26, 3–​10. Ferm, C. (2008). Playing to teach music—​ embodiment and identity-​ making in musikdidaktik. Music Education Research, 10(3), 361—​372. Freedom Writers & Gruwell, E. (2009). Teaching hope:  Stories from the Freedom Writer Teachers and Erin Gruwell. New York: Broadway Books. Frierson-​Campbell, C. (2007). Connections with the schooling enterprise: Implications for music education policy. Arts Education Policy Review, 108(6), 33–​38. Fry, K. (2008). Elaboration, counterpoint, transgression: Music and the role of the aesthetic in the criticism of Edward W. Said. Paragraph, 31(3), 265–​280. Green, L. (2002). How popular musicians learn. London and New York: Ashgate Press. Groot, R. de. (2005, 2007). Perspectives of polyphony in Edward Said’s writings. Alif, Journal of Comparative Poetics, 25, 219–​240. Reprinted in F. J. Ghazoul (ed.), Edward Said and critical decolonization (pp. 219–​240). Cairo & New York: American University in Cairo Press. Hargreaves, D. J., MacDonald, R. A. R., & Miell, D. E. (2002). What are musical identities, and why are they important? In R. A. R. MacDonald, D. J. Hargreaves, & D. E. Miell (eds.), Musical identities (pp. 1–​20). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Harvey, J. (1999). Music and inspiration. London: Faber and Faber. Hennessy, S. (2000). Overcoming the red feeling: The development of confidence to teach music in primary school amongst music teachers. British Journal of Music Education, 17(2), 183–​196.

Communal Creativity as Sociomusical Practice

73

hooks, b. (1994). Teaching to transgress:  Education as the practice of freedom. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. James, D., & Biesta, G. (2007). Improving learning cultures in further education. New York: Routledge. Kennedy, M. A. (2002). Listening to music:  Compositional processes of high school composers. Journal of Research in Music Education, 50(2), 94–​110. Lapidaki, E. (2009, February28–​March 3). Challenging music students assumptions about the nature of music teaching: The example of C.A.L.M. Paper presented at The Reflective Conservatoire, 2nd International Conference—​Building Connections, Guildhall School of Music and Drama, London. Lapidaki, E. (2014). Artistic reciprocity as course-​based practice of crossing “mono-​artistic” boundaries in higher visual arts and music education. Journal of Visual Art Practice, 13(2), 150–​157. Lapidaki, E. (2007). Learning from masters of music creativity:  Shaping compositional experiences in music education. Philosophy of Music Education Review, 15(2), 93–​117. Lizardo, O. (2010). Is a “special psychology” of practice possible? Theory & Psychology, 19(6), 713–​727. McCarthy, M. (2010). Keynote from RIME 2009. Researching children’s musical culture: Historical and contemporary perspectives. Music Education Research, 12(1), 1–​12. McQuillan, P. J. (2005). Possibilities and pitfalls: A comparative analysis of student empowerment. American Educational Research Journal, 43(4), 639–​670. Mills, J. (1996). Starting at secondary school. British Journal of Music Education, 13, 5–​14. Rancière, J., & Höller, C. (2007). The abandonment of democracy. Documenta (Education), 3, 13–​29. Reynolds, R. (1988). Digital: The critical compromise. Ear Magazine, 13(1), 22. Said, E. W. (2000). Out of place. New York: Vintage Books. Said, E. W. (1994). Culture and imperialism. London: Vintage. Said, E. W. (1991). Musical elaborations. New York: Columbia University Press. Soto, A. C., Lum, C., & Campbell, P. S. (2009). A university-​school music partnership for music education majors in a culturally distinctive community. Journal of Research in Music Education, 56(4), 338–​356. Stagkos, P. (2006). The fight against racism, xenophobia and discrimination in Greece today. The normative framework, public actions, and the European challenge. In D. Papadimitriou & J. Cavounidis (eds.), Managing migration: The Greek, EU, and international contexts (pp. 159–​175). Athens: Hellenic Migration Policy Institute. Stephens, N., & Delamont, S. (2006). Roda Boa, Roda Boa: Legitimate peripheral participation in diasporic capoeira. Teaching and Teacher Education, 26(1), 113–​118. Sullivan, W. M., Rosin, M. S., Shulman, L. S., & Fenstermacher, G. D. (2008). A new agenda for higher education: Shaping a life of the mind for practice. San Francisco: Jossey-​Bass. Wacquant, L. (2004). Body and soul:  Notes of an apprentice boxer. Oxford:  Oxford University Press. Webster, P. R. (2009). Children as creative thinkers in music. In S. Hallam, I. Cross, & M. Thaut (eds.), The Oxford handbook of music psychology (pp. 421–​428). Oxford:  Oxford University Press.

Chapter 5

ASSESING CREATIVITY IN MUSIC: INTERNATIONAL PERSPECTIVES AND PRACTICES Samuel Leong, Pamela Burnard, Neryl Jeanneret, Bo Wah Leung, and Carole Waugh

Widespread interest in creativity—​as an essential skill and a desirable educational outcome—​has reemerged in the last decade across Europe and in countries such as the United States, England, Australia, Hong Kong, and Singapore. In fact, Bloom’s revised taxonomy of cognition places “creating” at the highest level (Anderson & Krathwohl et al., 2001). The methods and criteria for assessing creativity, however, are often underpinned by different theories of creativity (Craft, 2001), and agreement on what constitutes creativity in music remains an elusive, highly contested, and underresearched area (Jeanneret & Forrest, 2008). Bamford (2006) goes so far as to suggest that the development of creativity and imagination may have little or no connection to arts education. It is not surprising then that no consensus has been reached on how creativity is (or should be) assessed within education (Amabile, 1996)  or music education (Hickey, 2001). We do know that musical creativity underscores all forms of musical engagement across cultural domains (Hennessey

Assessing Creativity in Music

75

& Amabile, 1999), that it is embodied in the acts of composing, improvising, and arranging, and it is implicated in the construction of the broader realities in which performance and listening occur (Hickey & Lipscomb, 2006). While there is agreement that assessing creativity in music should be embedded in practice and aligned to, or congruent with, the curriculum (Daugherty et  al., 2008), the issues related to how teachers design assessments, set learning outcomes, and make consistent judgments are more complicated than policy tends to acknowledge. However, there is agreement that the purposes of assessment can be for learning or of learning. In this chapter, six school exemplars from England, Australia, and Hong Kong are used to provide insights into the different ways creativity in music is defined and assessed by teachers and learners in each educational context. The exemplars indicate how assessment pertaining to musical creativity is influenced by educational policies. The chapter also examines and synthesizes the key features of assessing music creativity so as to draw parallels (not comparisons) between the different contexts, and closes with a discussion of the implications for classroom practice.

Theoretical Background: Creativity and Assessment in Music The development of the systematic assessment of creativity and the constructs used by primary and secondary teachers in assessing children’s art works remains an uncertain, controversial and inadequately researched area. Compared with numerous other topics relating to “creativity,” research on the assessment of music creativity is still in its infancy. One reason is that “creativity” remains an elusive concept due to the lack of a firm definition. Another reason is that, globally, in both dominant and emerging educational discourses, public policies that mandate performance criteria, tests, targets, and tables of achievement often conflict with creativity policies. Thus the practice of assessing creativity in music learning reflects dilemmas, debates, constraints, and tensions that are played out in a variety of ways within and across national borders. Assessment practices in music have relied heavily on the ability of the teacher to judge what constitutes “an imaginative activity fashioned so as to produce outcomes that are both original and of value” (Murphy, 2002, p.  30). The criteria adopted most frequently in assessing creativity are based on Torrance’s work (e.g., Webster, 2002) and include concepts such as originality, fluency, flexibility, appropriateness, elaboration, and novelty. How creativity is assessed in music would depend on the way teachers and students interpret these concepts in their particular contexts. In classroom practice, teachers have to make professional decisions about the suitability of musical tasks (activities) for their students, and the kinds of learning

76

Samuel Leong et al

that need to occur prior to undertaking them. These tasks may be geared toward mastery goals, which emphasize self-​improvement and skill development, or performance goals, which aim to avoid mistakes and achieve the highest possible grades. Teachers would also need to decide on the criteria for “success” in specific tasks and contexts as well as ways to scaffold creativity within these tasks. While creativity in schools is emphasized in England, the National Curriculum does not provide clear guidelines for creativity attainment levels. “Creative” and “innovative” are frequently used synonymously in a number of states in Australia that have implemented “essential learnings” across the school curriculum. Assessable outcomes are often described in terms of “creative thinking” and the translation of ideas into innovative products. The rhetoric is similar in Hong Kong, where creativity is defined broadly as “the ability to generate original ideas and solve problems appropriate to their contexts” (CDC, 2001, p. 34), but no guidelines are provided as to what constitutes creativity and originality for assessment purposes. Hence most music teachers do not include specific elements relating to the quality and quantity of creativity when judging, for example, originality, risk-​taking, or other creative acts of students’ work (Fautley, 2010). This is exemplified in the six case exemplars.

Case Descriptions from England, Australia, and Hong Kong In this section, six case descriptions from three international music education contexts, in both primary and secondary school settings, are used as exemplars to illustrate assessment practices that cover composing, performing, and musicology. While the education systems in all three contexts emphasize student-​centered teaching and learning, there are considerable differences in their respective policies and practices. The exemplar tasks in Tables 5.1 to 5.6 illustrate these differences and show how assessment can contribute to music creativity and provide specific success criteria based on where and how creativity is identified by the teachers.

England: Music Education Policy and Practice Context The English education system is based on a National Curriculum (NC) that is divided into four key stages and caters for pupils between the ages of 4 and 16. It is a statutory requirement for all students to study music throughout Key Stages (KSs) 1 to 3. Music becomes an optional subject at KS 4 (ages 14–​16), with students working

Table 5.1 Two exemplar tasks: English primary school.

1.1

Case setting

Musical Tasks

Success Criteria

Where and how is creativity identified and located?

KS1

In groups children explore a variety of instruments and recognise the materials instruments are made from

Correct identification of material and sound

Flexibility in creating diverse timbres from the same instrument

Ability to work as part of a group

Adapting different approaches to create innovative sounds

6–​7 year olds: Exploring Instruments

1.2

KS2 10–​11-​yearolds: Painting with Sound

Children use a variety of instruments to make their own “sounds” and explain the ways in which these sounds differ After listening to music representing someone jogging, children are asked to create a piece of music representing jogging using un-​tuned percussion instruments Whole class performance of their pieces and what aspects of jogging they represent

Creating sounds through a variety of instruments

Creativity identified largely through teachers’ informal judgement.

Clear choice, use and justification of instrument(s)

Flexibility in creating diverse timbres from the un-​tuned instruments

Relating sound to theme of jogging (e.g. breathing, traffic)

Innovation in connecting sound to appropriate world music context Creativity identified largely through teachers’ informal judgement

Table 5.2 Two exemplar tasks: English secondary school. 1.3

Case setting

Musical Tasks

Success Criteria

Where is creativity located?

KS3

Compose a piece of experimental music using one of these themes: weather forecast, football or airport.

Use extended vocal technique in experimental way

Adapting rhythm and composition around chosen theme

Select, combine and perform spoken words and rhythm

Unique choice and combination of key phrases showing personal expression

11-​12 year olds: Experimental Music

Select a series of spoken words associated with the theme, combine them musically and expressively to create own composition.

Creative aspects identified by the teacher (see video footage)

1.4

KS3 12-​13 year olds:

Composition in Indian classical style representing part of Krishna and the King of the Snakes story.

Composing and developing melody in time with group

Improvised performance with the rag, alap, gat, tag & drone

Performing melody to group audience

Reflecting story in innovative way

Improvising with specific Indian features

Innovative use of stylistically appropriate features Creative aspects identified by the teacher

Table 5.3 Two exemplar tasks: Australian primary school. 2.1

2.2

Case setting

Musical Tasks

Success Criteria

Where is creativity located?

Primary Level 4: 11–​12 year olds Extreme Musical Makeover (from the Apple Education Ideas website)

Students work in pairs to import a MIDI file of a famous musical theme that they have listened to before into Garage Band. They then rearrange it by altering the instruments playing the music, adding sound loops or changing the tempo

MIDI file manipulated to create a pop /​rock style

Adapting a known melody to another style through Garage Band

Primary Level 4: 11–​12 year olds Under African Skies Unit

Students work on two different short compositions within two lessons. Compositions must demonstrate thick and thin texture and demonstrate clear African influence. A rubric is displayed for the children to self assess their tasks and make the criteria explicit.

Performance

Computer Activity in pairs Choose music from “World” in the loop browser to create your music. It must have a definite African “feel” and demonstrate a change in texture. Group Project in groups of 4 or 5 Students work on a composition using rhythms to demonstrate a change in texture with an African sound, using the call-​and-​ response structure or an ostinato.

Well-​balanced work with an introduction and ending

Quality of the sound in the composition: originality, use of texture, choice of instruments Garage Band Quality of the sounds in the composition: identifiable African sound, use of texture, defined structure Group Effort Demonstration of cooperative skills: Motivation, contribution of all members, group supportive of each other Clear textural contrasts Clear use of African instruments and rhythms Clear demonstration of call-​ and-​response or ostinato

[The full rubric is included in the online resources] Use of texture Choice of instruments, loops and rhythms Choice of structure Use of rhythms to create textural contrast Choice of classroom instruments to create an “African” sound

Table 5.4 Two exemplar tasks: Two Australian secondary settings. 2.3

2.4

Case setting

Musical Tasks

Success Criteria

Where is creativity located?

Secondary NSW Year 11: Distance education

Students create a composition that interprets the painting entitled Chiffres et Constellations (“Numbers and Constellations”) by the Spanish surrealist artist Joan Miro. Students reflect on the process and explain ways in which the Miro painting provided a stimulus or starting point for their composition.

Shaping and colour, reflecting a connection between visual image and the musical composition

Use of musical elements to reflect a connection between a visual image and the composition

NSW Higher School Certificate Music 2: Composition—​Core

Stylistic understanding and topic representation

Manipulation of the elements of music

Maximum composition length: 2 minutes

Understanding of musical concepts and the relationships between them

Choice of recording method.

Secondary Year 12

Students will submit one original composition that represents the mandatory topic: Music of the last 25 years (Australian focus).

Manipulation of musical concepts

Knowledge of score conventions and performance directions.

Table 5.5 Two exemplar tasks: Hong Kong primary schools. Case setting

Musical Tasks

Success Criteria

Where is creativity located?

3.1

Primary 2 to 6 (aged 6–​11): “Show and Tell”

This requires every student to perform and /​ or present (1–​3 minutes) something related to music for peers and teachers

Positive attitude Student preparation Novelty of content Confidence in performance

Choice regarding content and nature of performance Innovative performance /​ presentation

3.2

Primary 6 (aged 10–​11) graduation project: Cantonese Opera (one of many topics suggested)

Students work in small groups during class to present a portfolio demonstrating their understanding of the genre

Accuracy of information Uniqueness and appropriateness of visual impact Originality

Designing project structure and presentation Adapting and extracting appropriate information

Table 5.6 Two exemplar tasks: Hong Kong secondary school. 3.3

Case setting

Musical Tasks

Success Criteria

Where is creativity located?

Secondary 1 (aged 11-​12): Ensemble playing

Students rearrange a given piece and choose instruments to rehearse and perform their ensemble arrangements during class. Teacher provides feedback throughout the creative process.

Cooperation between group members

Choice of instruments

Techniques demonstrated in musical arrangement and performance

Innovative use of instruments in the rearrangement

Expression conveyed in performance

Planning and implementing tasks /​sub-​ tasks within time constraints

Evidence of team spirit

3.4

Secondary 1 & 2 (aged 11-​13): Sound Production

(a) In Grade 7, students create a sonic-​ scape that represents a story using acoustic instruments in groups of 4-​6 students (b) In Grade 8, each student creates (individually) a sound product using the computer software “Audacity.”

Quality of live performance (only for Grade 7 task) Group organization and implementation of tasks and sub-​tasks Organization of sound sources Variability and diversity of sounds Accuracy and clarity of notation.

Appropriate interpretation in performance Choice and design of musical organisation and structure in depicting a story Risk taking in group decision-​making process Creative choices of resources /​features offered by the software.

Assessing Creativity in Music

83

toward a General Certificate of Secondary Education (GCSE) examinations. There is an Early Years and Foundation Stage (EYFS) framework for preschool children, and post-​16 courses are offered for those wanting to study music in the post-​compulsory sector. For each key stage, “programs of study” specify in detail what pupils should be taught in music, while “attainment targets” set out the “the knowledge, skills, and understanding” that pupils of different abilities and maturities are expected to have acquired by the end of each key stage. Attainment targets consist of eight level descriptions of increasing difficulty, plus a description for exceptional performance above level 8 (QCA, 2007). The requirement for schools to promote “thinking skills” and enable pupils “to think creatively” and “become creative” was explicitly presented in the NC and in key policy texts from 1999 onward, and an analysis of the English primary national curriculum for 2009 and 2010 (QCDA, 2009, 2010)  shows the word “creativity” and its inflections being used more and more frequently in a variety of different contexts. In music, the notion of creativity is often invoked when discussing collaborative and individual composing, when improvising within a group setting, when assessing musical work created using Information and Communication Technologies (ICT), and in the assessment of classroom performance. Yet the assessment of creativity in school music within the primary or secondary school curricula does not have a well-​established place in educational practice, nor does it form a standard element of pedagogic activity. Teachers are required to assign each pupil to the most appropriate level of attainment at the end of each key stage (at ages 7, 11, and 14). When music becomes an optional subject, the qualifications are provided by one of three national Awarding Bodies, which implement the nationally based subject criteria for music. Standards of attainment at this stage become driven by the quality of students’ work in relation to performance descriptors describing minimum standards at key “grade” points. Hence, the policy context for music education in England can be considered to be nationally prescribed and working within a tightly controlled quality framework. “Creativity” figures prominently in the EYFS framework, where promoting a child’s creativity and critical thinking skills is one commitment to the principles of learning and development (DCMS, 2008). Creativity is developed throughout KSs 1–​3 in the music programs of study by focusing on creating and developing musical ideas through composition. This focus is a key dimension by means of which pupils’ progress is measured in KSs 1–​3. At KS 3, “creativity” in music forms a key strand of relevant knowledge and understanding. It is understood to mean using existing musical knowledge and skills for new purposes, in new contexts, and is used to explore ways music can be combined with other art forms. However, there is no direct reference to creativity in the NC attainment levels, which appear more concerned with technical proficiency. The GCSE music subject criteria have “creative thinking”

84

Samuel Leong et al

as a specified learning outcome underpinned loosely by reference to composing skills. Music teachers are therefore being asked to enhance pupils’ creativity through music education while not being required to formally assess the creative aspects of their work or to consider progression in musical skills with reference to “creativity” itself. This is shown in the following four school exemplars.

England: Primary School Examples St. Oswald’s Primary School in Sefton offers the EYFS and caters for children aged 4–​11, through to the end of the KS 2 curriculum. It is a small, state-​funded primary school where children are taught in classes of 30. Creativity is encouraged at the school as a means of nurturing divergent thinkers. Learning through self-​initiated activities and experience is a crucial element in the EYFS national framework, and creativity is a desired learning outcome. All children have at least 40 minutes a week dedicated specifically to music education. This music lesson is taught by the class teacher (not a music specialist) at KS 1, and by the school’s music coordinator (a music specialist) at KS 2. Music is understood as an inclusive activity that all children can access and enjoy and is seen as pivotal in the promotion of a child’s creativity. Most activities involve small group work, with feedback focused at the group and individual level. Assessment of a child’s progress in music is embedded in lesson time, not construed as an end-​ of-​ unit or topic task. Teachers use informal formative assessment to support a child’s learning, placing interaction with the child at the heart of this process. In the two exemplar tasks in Table 5.1, teachers give minimal input beyond selection of instrumentation (ex. 1.1) and providing a piece of music representing a person jogging (ex. 1.2). In both examples, the locus and identification of creativity rests with the teachers’ informal judgments more than with the students’ own views. Formal teacher-​led assessment is minimal, with little direct use of the national curriculum levels of attainment other than for summative purposes in the annual report to parents.

England: Secondary School Examples The Bishops Stortford High School is a state-​funded boys school. It uses creativity as a way of engaging young men with schooling, education, and, more generically, learning itself. Encouraging students to be creative through self-​expression is considered an important part of the school’s ethos. Most activities in these lessons focus on group work. The boys’ progress in music is assessed every six to eight weeks through preplanned structured assessment tasks. Each unit of work ends with a formal

Assessing Creativity in Music

85

assessment, where the boys are asked to self-​and peer-​assess their work prior to engaging with the teacher’s views, which are generally offered toward the final stages of preparation for the task. Assessment criteria are shared with the boys throughout the unit and used to ascertain their level of work and to help set targets for the next unit of work. The standards of the work and subsequent target setting is linked directly to the national curriculum attainment levels, and the boys’ progress is monitored throughout the year, with remedial action being taken if standards do not improve in an ongoing way. Although formative in nature, the assessment of music is unitized and preplanned and corresponds very closely to the national curriculum levels at KS 3, and to the Awarding Body assessment criteria at KS 4 (criteria that do not include reference to the construct of creativity itself). However, encouraging students to be creative in both the musical process and the outcome is evident in the departments’ thinking, as shown by the exemplar tasks in Table 5.2 (exs. 1.3 and 1.4), for which the boys are encouraged to use their imagination and personal expression in selecting and making connections to given themes. As in the English primary school exemplars there appears to be little scope for students themselves to assess the creative dimension of their own work.

Australia: Music Education Policy and Practice Context Each of the seven states and territories in Australia has its own education system. At the time of writing, the federal government is attempting to design a national curriculum that aligns curricula across the country. A music syllabus will be part of the Arts (dance, drama, media, music, and visual arts), with consensus on the foundations of music curricula in the skills, knowledge, and understanding associated with the elements of music and the experiences of listening, composing, and performing. All students throughout their primary and secondary years will engage in creative music activities that involve exploring, experimenting, arranging, and composing. How creativity is assessed, however, differs from state to state and school to school, and depends on what systems of accountability are in place. However, all states and territories have some form of Year 12 exit accreditation, and music is part of this.

Victoria: Primary School Example Apollo Parkways Primary School is a Melbourne metropolitan state primary school. It has a Preparatory to Year 6 (ages 5–​12) population of about 650 children and follows

86

Samuel Leong et al

the state-​mandated Victorian Essential Learning Standards learning framework. Creativity is part of the learning domains of “Thinking” and “Design, Creativity, and Technology” incorporated into all aspects of learning from Preparatory to Year 10. In 1995 the school was identified as one of the Department of Education and Early Childhood Development’s seven Navigator Schools in relation to ICT. As a result there is a strong focus on the integration of learning technologies into all facets of the curriculum. All age levels have a specialist-​taught music class for 50 minutes per week that endeavors to ensure that the music program complements what students are doing in their general classes, where possible. The “specialist” teacher is a general classroom teacher who recently took on the “specialist” role because of her interest in music. This is a fairly common phenomenon in a number of Australian states. Assessment is embedded in the units of work and is both formative and summative over the year, building a picture of the children’s achievement against the state-​ mandated music Progression Points (expected levels of achievement). Examples 2.1 and 2.2 (in table 5.3) are from two different units of work done by a combined Year 5 and 6 and reflect the “Creating and Making” strand of the learning framework, in which children are expected to experiment with a range of skills and processes, generating and communicating ideas that incorporate influences from their own and other cultures and times. Example 2.1 has a dual purpose. While the children create arrangements of these melodies in a style familiar to them, they also work through an ICT skill development checklist. In the “Under African Skies” tasks (ex. 2.2), the children are expected to use the resources provided by Garage Band for one task and classroom instruments for the other. The tasks acknowledge the diversity of abilities and experiences of the children and allow for a range of responses. Both tasks make allowance for the fact that there are not enough laptops for all the children working in pairs at the same time. Both examples have clear parameters and expectations but are flexible enough to allow for individual expression. Example 2.2, however, also has an emphasis on cooperative skills as one of the criteria. The teacher moves around the room answering questions and providing feedback and guidance while the students are engaged in their tasks.

New South Wales: Secondary School Example This exemplar demonstrates how a creative task is incorporated as part of a Year 12 public exit examination. Composition is a core component of the Higher School Certificate (HSC) Music 2 course, and students must submit a composition as well as perform and sit for a “musicology/​aural written paper.” Students engage in a variety of creative activities throughout Years 11 and 12 as preparation for their final submission. Example 2.3 (in table 5.4) is a Year 11 task used in the Department of Education’s Distance Education music program and asks students to create a music piece that reflects a Miro painting. Creativity is embedded in the scope of possible

Assessing Creativity in Music

87

interpretations and how the students choose to manipulate the musical elements. They are also asked to reflect on their thinking, their intentions, and the process they use to realize their work. Emphasis is placed on the cultural context of the Miro painting in terms of their concurrent musicological studies. Example 2.4 describes the parameters of the final HSC task, which constitutes 20% of the final assessment. The broad parameters of the HSC task accommodate the diversity, experiences, and wide-​ranging cultural contexts of the student population. The only limits set are a maximum duration of two minutes, and for the work to reflect connections with the music of the last 25 years. This breadth enables students to create works that reflect the genres of music familiar to them, while using available resources. Students are also expected to maintain reflective journals of their processes and be able to substantiate their works’ authenticity when required. Submitted works must be accompanied with a score and recording. The latter serves as a guide to the composers’ intentions, and its technical quality is not assessed. Traditional and nontraditional notations are acceptable, but a key should accompany the score for the latter.

Hong Kong: Policy and Practice Context In 2000, the Hong Kong government initiated an education reform that has seen eight Key Learning Areas (KLAs) offered in the official school curriculum. The main medium of instruction is Chinese Cantonese. As part of the Arts KLA, music is recognized for its ability to develop the creativity and aesthetic sensitivities of students. The school curriculum is expected to contribute to a student’s “whole person” development, as well as nurture nine generic skills. These nine skills are collaborative skills, communication skills, creativity, critical thinking skills, information technology skills, numeracy skills, problem-​solving skills, self-​management skills, and study skills. The four-​year senior secondary school system changed to a three-​year system in 2009. Students will sit for the Hong Kong Diploma of Secondary Education examination, in which music is an elective subject. Creativity is included in two of six papers, requiring candidates to submit a portfolio of compositions and/​or arrangements of existing pieces, with reflective journals. One of the aims of this examination is to assess students’ ability to “create and arrange music using appropriate compositional devices, and explain the use of music elements in compositional devices of their compositions” (CDC & HKEAA, 2007, p. 47). Creativity is not listed as a criterion in the listening and performance papers. The school curriculum entitles every student to arts education. Approximately 10–​15% and 8–​10% of lesson time should be allocated to arts education in the formal curriculum at primary (Year 1–​6) and junior secondary (Year 7–​9) levels, respectively.

88

Samuel Leong et al

Listening, performing (singing and instrumental playing), and creating music are the basic musical experiences for all students. The three main areas of “creating music” are composing, improvising, and arranging music. Integrated musical activities should be designed for all topics taught at primary and secondary levels. Creative movement is also included to “internalize [students’] experience and understanding in music, stimulate creativity, and strengthen expressive abilities” (CDC & HKEAA, 2007, pp. 43–​44). The following examples show how listening, performing, and creating activities are integrated at different schools and levels.

Hong Kong: Primary School Example Chan’s Creative School (CCS) is a private Christian primary school with students who are mostly of Chinese descent. There are six grade levels with four classes per level and an average of 23 students per class. CCS aims to educate the whole person and gives priority to arts education. The principal believes in providing a safe, free, and stimulating school environment that integrates creative elements throughout the school. Students attend two regular music sessions per six-​day cycle, with 13 cycles per semester and two semesters per school year. The music curriculum focuses on the cultivation of musical expression (Grade 1), familiarity with musical instruments (Grade 2), basic sound production and creation (Grade 3), music appreciation (Grade 4), music-​making with drama (Grade 5), and project work (Grade 6). Music tasks are designed to inspire and stimulate students’ creative thinking. All students must present a “creative performance” for their class during “Show and Tell” time (ex. 3.1 in table 5.5). They are also given opportunities to perform for peers during lunchtime concerts. Example 3.2 is a graduation project that all Grade 6 students must complete in small groups. This “Cantonese Opera” project involves collaboration work engaging students with key aspects of the genre, including the musical notational and symbolic systems, makeup, costumes, and historical contexts. Formal music assessment in the school comprises singing performance (50%), written test (30%), and project/​”Show and Tell” time (10%). To encourage those with different abilities to learn music with confidence, the assessment criteria do not focus mainly on students’ performance proficiency. Apart from creativity, there is an emphasis on students’ attitudes toward learning and commitment to preparation/​learning.

Hong Kong: Secondary School Example G.T. College is a government school that has operated for five years. It provides education to gifted students in Hong Kong from Grade 7 to Grade 12, with two to four classes for each grade and about 25 students per class. The senior secondary levels (Grades 11 and 12) have been offered from September 2010.

Assessing Creativity in Music

89

Love, commitment, and creativity are stated as core values of the school. The school prides itself on its innovative curriculum where students participate in courses focused on creative thinking and problem solving. Students are encouraged to be open and receptive in their learning, acquire a healthy value system that includes being diligent, loving toward others, and aiming for excellence. Music is organized under the Department of Talent and Development, together with visual arts and physical education. Students normally receive 70 minutes of music lessons each week, but two additional lessons are given to those identified as musically talented. Ten music modules are taught per school year, with each module lasting between six and eight lessons. For the 2009/​2010 school year, modules incorporating creativity included “Sound Production” and “Music Appreciation.” Example 3.3 (in table 5.6) is from “Ensemble Work,” a module that comprises eight lessons. Students are free to form their own small groups and choose instruments for playing designated music pieces during the lessons. The small group setting promotes leadership, initiative, and self-​evaluation during decision-​making processes in class rehearsals. This enables a close teacher-​student interaction, with the teacher providing immediate feedback, catering for both individual and group differences. At the end of each lesson, the groups take turns performing for their peers, who are invited to give constructive comments or words of appreciation. The teacher makes a summative assessment of each group’s performance during the last lesson. Emphasis is placed on the creative process and team spirit rather than technical achievement. This allows for a wide range of student abilities and encourages students to accept their actual achievement levels but be motivated to aim for a higher level with confidence. A creative sound project using both acoustic instruments and software constitutes the musical task designed for Grade 7 and Grade 8, respectively (exs. 3.4a, 3.4b). The Grade 7 task requires students to create a sonic-​scape that represents a story, using acoustic instruments in groups of four to six students. The Grade 8 task is similar to the Grade 7 task but requires each student to create a sonic project using the computer software Audacity. The finished products are performed in class, with constructive responses received from peers and the teacher.

Summary and Analysis: What the Exemplars Tell Us The exemplar tasks and accompanying assessment criteria in the six tables displayed in this chapter show a wide range of practices in assessing creativity in music programs from three international contexts. While they share many similarities, it is noteworthy that they have arisen in diverse historical and cultural contexts and are at various stages of development in terms of creativity assessment in each of their respective countries. (Hong Kong, for example, ceased to be a British colony

90

Samuel Leong et al

in 1997, and creativity only became a priority when the educational reform was implemented in 2003.) These social, cultural, economic, and political factors influence assessment practice, particularly in the way teachers judge student progress and achievement. It is evident from the exemplar tasks in Tables 5.1 and 5.2 that music teachers use success criteria extensively in primary and secondary schools. This seems to provide loose parameters around which students can structure their work, and around which the work will be assessed. However, if we scrutinize the criteria we find very little on the concept of creativity. In the English context, “creativity” is an abstract concept that is not formally assessed or considered in relation to the progression of musical skills. While success criteria are employed (to make it possible for students to structure their work), the concept and assessment of creativity are conspicuously absent, with both the identification and location of creativity resting almost exclusively with the teacher. Despite the fact that the teachers claimed to assess creativity in students work, there was no evidence that the concept was used—​even generically—​within the success criteria. This impacts on how pupils approach the musical task and the value they place on being “creative.” In Australia, the way creativity is assessed varies from state to state and from school to school, and the conception and realization of creativity is more closely linked to state-​mandated frameworks than is the case with England. In addition, the strong focus on integration within the wider school curriculum (set within assessment parameters that are both formative and summative) not only provides for a greater degree of student autonomy but also helps to ensure that the identification and location of creativity are clearer to both students and teachers. However, it is difficult to ascertain the judgment of specific elements relating to quality and quantity from the case descriptions. The two Hong Kong schools focus more on the integrative aspects of creativity, with less emphasis placed on proficiency than on the commitment to preparation/​ learning and the creative process/​team spirit demonstrated. By focusing largely on peer assessment (teacher-​student interaction is undertaken on a more immediate, small group level), the success criteria avoid the problem of being too performance-​ related/​target-​centered. However, this still leaves somewhat open-​ended (1) the issue of identification and location of creativity, especially within the scope of the specific KLA guidelines, and (2) the judgment of the quality and quantity of creativity. The following sections focus on the range, types, and orientation of musical tasks, assessment criteria, and the location of creativity in music assessment, drawing from the evidence of practice in the six exemplars.

Types of Musical Task The types of musical task in the primary and secondary school exemplars range from those associated with a public examination (ex. 2.4), written tasks (Hong Kong primary school), and practical tasks (ex. 3.1); there are tasks with informal feedback

Assessing Creativity in Music

91

(ex. 3.4) that are school based, as well as tasks with formative (exs. 2.1, 2.2) and summative (exs. 2.4, 3.2) assessments. Some tasks are school-​wide (ex. 3.1), and some are subject based (most examples). Examples  1.3 and 1.4 illustrate the practice of assessment for learning, where the assessment data inform the teacher in setting targets for future learning. Musical tasks can be oriented toward performance or mastery goals (as mentioned earlier). In the latter case, the task would emphasize the less tangible aspects of learning such as confidence and team spirit (exs. 3.1, 3.3). Musical tasks could be structured/​preplanned (exs. 1.3, 1.4), semistructured assessments (ex. 3.4), individual (exs. 3.4b), group based (most examples), guided (exs. 1.1, 1.2) or freer, as in project work (ex. 3.2), and involve self-​and/​or peer-​assessment (most examples). In e­ xample 3.2, the “portfolio” actually consists of different “sections” of a big project that spans a semester lasting about five months. Some musical tasks require students to use technology (exs. 2.1, 3.4b) and write reflective journals (ex. 2.3). Music-​specific tasks are mostly focused on composition/​creation (exs. 1.1, 1.2, 1.3, 1.4, 2.1, 2.2, 3.4), performance (exs. 1.1, 1.2, 1.3, 1.4, 3.3) and musicology (ex. 3.3). Some of the tasks are accompanied by a stimulus to activate the imagination and elicit a creative response (exs. 1.2, 1.4, 2.3, 3.3).

Criteria for Assessing Creativity The “success criteria” shown in the tables indicate what students need to do or achieve in order to satisfy the requirements of the task set by their teachers. But not all the success criteria are relevant to the assessment of creativity, the location of which is identified in the column “Where is creativity located?” Most of the musical tasks show flexibility in the criteria for assessing creativity, thus giving students space to make decisions/​choices, and making allowance for a range of student abilities, interests/​topics, responses, interpretations, and medium of expression. Action words used in the exemplars include creating/​ making, adapting, selecting/​ choosing, combining, improvising, reflecting, designing, and risk-​ taking—​ indicating what students need to do to demonstrate their creativity. Although novelty (ex. 3.1) and originality (ex. 3.2) are explicitly stated as assessment criteria, teachers can, and do, arrive at different judgments because creativity is defined so differently from person to person.

Implications for Practice As noted at the beginning of the chapter, the concept of creativity is still ill defined and underresearched in the music education context. While policy-​makers around the globe recognize the importance of creativity across the curriculum, discussion, resources, and guidelines for teachers designing assessment tasks and criteria are

92

Samuel Leong et al

relatively limited. At the classroom level, however, the exemplars in this chapter have revealed similarities in the practices of assessing musical creativity at primary and secondary levels from three different cultural contexts. They also show the powerful impact of policies and cultural specifics that influence the values, beliefs, and codes of practice in educational settings and on individuals, and can serve as references for other cultural contexts. The exemplar tasks also provide us with some common characteristics of current practice. They demonstrate that they can provide an indication of student achievement (or an assessment of learning) and at the same time, depending on the nature of the tasks, serve as assessment tools for learning, emphasizing that both process and product are vital to creativity assessment. It appears that effective classroom assessment practices offer scope for creative solutions, both in task design and in flexible criteria for assessing the outcome of creativity (whether product or process). The exemplars are also student centered and provide students with authentic activities that involve genuine challenges, choices, and responsibilities. In addition they provide experiential, hands-​on learning, including group work that can contribute to learner engagement and motivation, with students being encouraged to take risks within a safe environment and to be bold in taking novel approaches to tasks. The task designs have attempted to cater for students with differing abilities, needs, experience, and resources, and it is obvious that creative outcomes can be better understood when the purpose and extent of self-​participation, peer collaboration, and teacher involvement are made explicit. We might also point out that this pedagogical approach is not specific to creative tasks and could be adopted for all kinds of musical activities. Given the centrality of creativity in today’s education, the assessment of musical creativity should be considered as important as the assessment of musical content and competencies. Music teachers need a clear understanding of what the creativity agenda entails and how creativity can be enacted and embedded in the teaching and learning process. This includes clarifying what to value in creative actions, and deciding how to go about valuing creativity in music assessment. In all of these areas focused research can inform further policy development and endeavor to fill the knowledge gap that currently exists.

Reflective Questions

1. What are the major issues regarding the assessment of creativity? Reflect on your own experiences where creativity was required in your education. Was it assessed? If so, how? 2. What kinds of musical tasks are most and least commonly used in the education system that you work in? To what extent is creativity encouraged in these tasks?

Assessing Creativity in Music

93

3. What are the similarities and difference between the types of musical tasks presented in this chapter and those found in your school/​education system? 4. What are the key characteristics of the criteria for assessing creativity presented in this chapter? To what extent are they applicable to your school/​education system? 5. How can creativity be incorporated into the music classroom and how can it be assessed? What are the major differences between the primary classroom and the secondary classroom?

Acknowledgment Support from the Hong Kong RGC GRF grant (Project Code: 840608) is acknowledged. All the schools cited cooperated and gave their permission for the use of the material in this chapter. Permission to use the material in Table 5.3 was given by Apollo Parkways Primary School, Department of Education and Early Childhood Development, and Australia Music Educators.

WEBSITES England Sites

National curriculum: https://​www.gov.uk/​national-​curriculum. Useful lesson plans:  https://​www.gov.uk/​government/​publications?departments%5B%5 D=department-​for-​education.

Australian Sites

Australian curriculum frameworks and syllabuses: https://​www.australiancurriculum.edu.au. Examples of Higher School Certificate Music 2 compositions: http://​arc.boardofstudies.nsw. edu.au/​go/​hsc/​std-​packs/​.

Hong Kong Sites

Education Bureau: http://​www.edb.gov.hk/​. G.T. College: http://​www.gtcollege.edu.hk. Chan’s Creative School: http://​www.ccs.edu.hk/​wordpress/​.

94

Samuel Leong et al

REFERENCES Amabile, T. (1996). Creativity in context. Boulder, CO: Westview Press. Anderson, L. W., & Krathwohl, D. R., et al. (eds.). (2001). A taxonomy for learning, teaching, and assessing. Boston: Allyn & Bacon. Bamford, A. (2006). The wow factor. New York: Waxman Munster. Craft, A. (2001). Little c creativity. In A. Craft, R. Jeffrey, & M. Leibling (eds.), Creativity in education (pp. 45–​61). London: Continuum. Curriculum Development Council (CCD). (2001). Learning to learn. Hong Kong: Curriculum Development Council. Curriculum Development Council & Hong Kong Examination and Assessment Authority (CDC & HKEAA). (2007). Music curriculum and assessment guide (Secondary 4–​6). Hong Kong:  Curriculum Development Council & Hong Kong Examination and Assessment Authority. Daugherty, R., et al. (2008). Alternative perspectives on learning outcomes: Challenges for assessment. Curriculum Journal, 19(4), 243–​254. Department for Culture Media and Sport (DCMS). (2008). Statutory Framework for the Early Years and Foundation Stage (EYFS). Available at https://​www.gov.uk/​government/​ uploads/​system/​uploads/​attachment_​data/​file/​621759/​EYFS_​Guidance_​on_​exemptions_​ in_​respect_​of_​individual_​children.pdf. Fautley, M. (2010). Assessment in music education. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Hennessey, B. A., & Amabile, T. M. (1999). Consensual assessment. In M. A. Runco & S. R. Pritzker (eds.), Encyclopedia of creativity (Vol. 1) (pp. 248–​260). California: Academic Press. Hickey, M. (2001). An application of Amabile’s Consensual Assessment Technique for rating the creativity of children’s musical compositions. Journal of Research in Music Education, 49(3), 234–​244. Hickey, M., & Lipscomb, S. (2006). “How different is good?” In I. Deliege & G. Wiggins (eds.), Musical creativity (pp. 97–​110). Hove and New York: Psychology Press. Jeanneret, N., & Forrest, D. (2008). Policy and music education: A “new” culture of “creativity”? In Music education policy and implementation: International perspectives (pp. 85–​ 96). Hirosaki, Japan: Hirosaki University Press. Murphy, P. (ed.) (2002). Learners, learning and assessment. London: Routledge Falmer. Qualifications and Curriculum Authority (QCA). (2007). Music: Programme of study for key stage 3 and attainment target. Available at http://​webarchive.nationalarchives.gov. uk/2​ 0130613030433/​http://​media.education.gov.uk/​assets/fi ​ les/p ​ df/​m/m ​ usic%202007%20 programme%20of%20study%20for%20key%20stage%203.pdf. Qualifications and Curriculum Development Authority (QCDA). (2009). National curriculum. Retrieved August, 26, 2009, from http://​www.educationengland.org.uk/​documents/​ pdfs/​2009-​CSFC-​national-​curriculum.pdf. Qualifications and Curriculum Development Agency (QCDA). (2010). New primary curriculum. Available at https://​www.gov.uk/​government/​uploads/​system/​uploads/​ attachment_​data/​file/​229186/​1260.pdf. Webster, P. (2002). Creative thinking in music. In T. Sullivan & L. Willingham (eds.), Creativity and music education (pp. 16–​33). Edmonton:  Canadian Music Educators’ Association.

Chapter 6

CREATIVITY IN PARTNERSHIP PRACTICES Bernadette D. Colley, Randi Margrethe Eidsaa, Ailbhe Kenny, and Bo Wah Leung

This chapter’s collective snapshot of four cases identifies and describes manifestations of creativity as it is embodied in partnership collaborations across an international spectrum. We argue that viewed as a policy choice, partnerships—​though having divergent and site-​specific missions, structures, participants, forms, processes, and functions, and though serving divergent political-​cultural goals—​share in common a commitment to creativity as a key component. Our contribution to this section is neither a systematic cross-​cultural evaluation of the partnership model’s effectiveness in achieving specific “learning outcomes,” per se, nor an endorsement of partnership practice, but rather a mosaic portrait of partnerships viewed as an instructional choice for promoting creativity in music education. Because the collaborative partnership continues to gain popularity internationally as an instructional mechanism in arts education, examining the relationship between policy agendas and creativity in an internationally diverse sample of music education partnerships merits attention.

96

Bernadette D. Colley et al

Partnerships as Creativity Policy National, regional, and local policy-​makers worldwide are increasingly referencing creativity as a key element in program initiatives designed to foster economic development. In policies both explicit and tacit, authors claim that creativity inspires innovation and in turn produces thriving economies (UNESCO, 2000; Deasy, 2002; Riley, 2002; Fiske, 1999; ACI, 2006; Ministry of Culture, 2007; CCE, 2010). Such beliefs have led to programs administered at various levels that foster alliances between schools, government agencies, local cultural institutions, and community organizations involving visiting creator-​professionals. Music and arts education partnerships enabling schools or school systems to collaborate with organizations and individuals from outside school environments are believed to be one such avenue to help achieve this cultural agenda (AEPR, 2003). Humphreys (2006) characterized this political situation as one in which “unique, diverse experiences in the arts can be linked to standards of excellence in the development of specialised high quality goods and services required by the global economy” (237). Earlier programs employing specifically visual and performing “artists” have now broadened to include creative “practitioners” or “professionals” such as horticulturists, scientists, multimedia specialists, and architects, to enable and ensure that the social and cultural conditions that enhance creativity in all fields are maximized (ACI, 2005, Ministry of Culture, 2007, AEP, 2005; UNESCO, 2005, Cape UK, 2009, CCE, 2010). Policy, “at its best,” says Richmond (2002), “can be the social and institutional vehicle by which enlightened philosophy is carried out . . . policies in music education specify the conditions in which music education is carried out and the kind of persons responsible for that work” (3). Samuel Hope (2002), as president of the U.S. National Association of Schools of Music, wrote that “policy is made because of a perceived need to act” (5). In partnerships, whether an end vision is held initially by the artist, and/​or developed during the process of the collaboration, the formal partnership structure itself forges and welds together a relationship connecting one population to another, allowing, engendering, even requiring creative tasks to be accomplished and realized. Thus, as a policy decision, the choice to promote, or engage in, collaborations between schools, cultural organizations, professional artists, and other community members with a specified goal in mind is public affirmation that one population: first, values the other; second, recognizes the expertise the other possesses that they may lack, and third, desires to engage creatively in a project that would not otherwise be possible without such associations (Cape UK, 2009, 52–​53; Galton, 2008, ix–​xi). The level at which the policy decision to partner is made, even if by a sole music teacher inviting a choreographer into her music program without an official sponsoring agency or an accompanying grant, matters not. The socio-​ philosophical parameters of partnership as a policy choice for promoting creativity in music learning remain the same. For purposes of comparison we define “partnership” as an entity in which two or more partners (e.g., schools, cultural institutions, universities, local arts agencies,

Creativity in Partnership Practices

97

libraries, senior citizen organizations, and other community groups) have agreed formally to collaborate for a specified duration, with financial support from a recognized agency or organization responsible for the partnership’s administration and management. When partners collaborate, each partner contributes during the process toward an end result that can take one of many forms. Within the official structure and duration of the formal partnership, informal relationships also develop between individuals who are participating members of the partnering organizations—​for example, students, teachers, visiting creative professionals, and sometimes researchers. Creative practitioners, regardless of whether “in residence” or off-​site, are usually affiliated with an organization that is a formal collaborating partner. The endorsement and determination as to who qualifies as an “artist,” “professional,” or “practitioner” is an assumed responsibility of an official partnering organization. So defined and organized, manifestations of creativity in partnerships draw on those theories of creativity that posit the forces that shape and develop human creativity as social, cultural, and contextual (e.g., Csikszentmihalyi, 1996; Jeffery, 2005)  as opposed to those that posit creativity as a fixed and innate trait. (See Burnard, 2007; Dartnall, 2002; Hickey, 2002; Mayer, 1999; Pariser & Zimmerman, 2004, for range and overview of definitions.) In common parlance among typical partnership constituents, creativity is generally viewed as a multifaceted capacity embodied in everyone, and one that can be enhanced by environmental factors. Similar to task-​oriented strategies for enhancing creativity in classrooms (Thornton, 2002; Wolf, 1999; Fautley & Savage, 2007), partnership collaborations are characterized and driven almost always by a specified task, or project at hand as a mission-​to-​be-​accomplished (AEP, 2003). In our cases, goals include a culminating event showcasing original compositions created during the partnership, artistic and pedagogical professional development for teachers and musicians, development of new curricular materials, and the extension of a school’s relationship with a neighborhood cultural institution.

Cases from Ireland, Hong Kong, Norway, and the United States Even within national boundaries partnerships vary widely as to cultural-​political agenda, financial support, numbers of partners, artistic intentions, interdisciplinary components, collaborative size and organization, content, duration, outcome, participant types, and environments. The four partnership collaborations from Ireland, China, Norway, and the United States whose descriptions follow shared the following common characteristics:

• Each was driven by funding sources that engendered collaborations between populations who do not otherwise have formal access to one another.

98

Bernadette D. Colley et al • Each resulted from competitive proposal application to a government funding agency, private foundation, and/​or cultural institution for its financial support. • Each was inherently interdisciplinary in focus, and involved students in creating musical forms that wed music and language in pursuit of an end performance, product, or goal. • Each necessitated involvement of outside experts in an artistic discipline or genre who worked with teachers and students in their own school environments, or at a cultural institution in their community. • Each involved as participant, overseer, researcher, and/​or evaluator one of the authors of this chapter.

Ireland Policy Agenda: Raising Awareness of and Participation in the Arts In Ireland, the Department of Education and Skills (DES) is responsible for education policy. The Arts Council, under the Department of Arts, Heritage and the Gaeltacht (DAHG) is responsible for the arts. Music education partnerships have been largely carried out under the auspices of the Arts Council, rather than the DES, leading to criticisms of the fragmented approach to arts education nationwide (ACI, 2008, 45). The national Arts Council views partnerships as key to their work in arts development that is clearly outlined in its official strategy document, Developing the Arts in Ireland: Arts Council Strategic Overview 2011–​2013: Partnership –​characterized by common purpose and respect for distinct roles –​ will continue to define the relationship of the Arts Council with the arts sector and a range of other bodies. (ACI, 2010, 8)

Having adopted the partnership structure as a strategic catalyst to “broaden the reach and deepen the impact of the arts,” the national council funds projects through local government arts offices (ACI, 2010, 4). Local government arts offices are a relatively recent phenomenon in Ireland, with 36 arts offices having been phased in countrywide between 1985 and 2007. Due to the local governments’ positioning at local and regional levels, the arts offices are situated to develop and sustain partnerships between and among local educational institutions and to act as a resource for them by providing access to a broad range and network of musicians. Music education partnerships in Ireland have mainly occurred as “arts in education” initiatives in which artists or, as in the case below, musicians of any genre are involved in initiatives with schools. The Arts Council’s Artists-​Schools Guidelines (ACI, 2006, 11) claims: “Many children might never have the experience of attending

Creativity in Partnership Practices

99

a live arts event or engaging with artists or the arts in a direct fashion, were it not for the professional collaboration of schools and arts organizations.” Typically, these partnerships between schools and artists also involve an arts organization that both funds the project and has direct input in its planning and delivery. Since their inception, local government arts offices have acted in such a manner and are now placed as major stakeholders in supporting and developing such music-​in-​education partnership initiatives.

Partnership Project: The Whisper of Ghosts This was the first music commission within the Per Cent for Art Scheme in Wexford County Council. The Per Cent for Art Scheme allows for up to 1% of all capital construction budgets to be allocated toward a public art project, most of which have taken the form of permanent visual art installations, even though the scope of the scheme is open to any art form, permanent or temporary. This particular initiative aimed to develop community-​orientated programming in a creative manner; expand public art programming to other art forms beyond visual arts; and improve wider education and community programming in County Wexford. Wexford County Council invited composer Elaine Agnew to realize this commission, and Agnew put forward the idea of including writer Kate Newman in the project. The participants involved in this collaborative commission were the composer, the writer, the Wexford arts office staff, pupils of three rural primary schools, a local active retirement group, and the Irish Chamber Orchestra (ICO). The grant commissioned a large-​scale orchestral and choral piece of contemporary classical music. Because this initiative was particularly focused on extensive community participation, the process involved the composer and writer working for six months with pupils and teachers from the primary schools and members of the active retirement group in a series of improvisational workshops. The composer workshops concentrated on music-​making, percussion, listening skills, singing, and creative composition. Agnew extracted musical phrases from the students’ compositions that they subsequently developed into more extensive melody lines for the overall work. Newman’s writing workshops, which took place during the same time period, focused on creative writing and texts using themes of place and identity, local history, stories, folklore, and personal narratives. Writing workshops included recording of participants’ spoken renderings of their compositions, and these were then used as main texts for the choral compositions and/​or audio/​voice tracks in the final composition. The final musical work was performed in 2004 by 160 pupils of the primary schools and members of the retirement group alongside the ICO. The children who performed, their classroom peers, and retirement group members had all been part of the creative process that resulted in the final composition. The local arts office produced a live recording and published a book of the participants’ written compositions created during the

100

Bernadette D. Colley et al

project (WCC, 2004a). Author Ailbhe Kenny extended and expanded the Wexford council’s internal evaluation of the partnership for her comprehensive study of music development in local government in Ireland (2009) by gathering postproject accounts and assessments from a sampling of participants, including the composer, arts officer, and arts office personnel. The relationships forged around creativity in County Wexford’s Whisper of Ghosts partnership project congealed in a variety of ways—​through composer-​writer collaborations, collaborations across art forms, collaborations between schools, community groups, the arts office, and with Ireland’s national ensemble treasure, the ICO. So designed, the partnership structure was well suited to the Arts Council’s cultural mission in its bringing together of national, regional, and local constituents in a project that enabled and showcased both creative and “per-​formative” (Burnard, 2008) aspects of music learning. The program thus served Ireland’s national cultural agenda by engaging people directly in creating art, promoting the value of the arts, supporting artists, increasing public arts experiences, and strengthening arts organizations (ACI, 2005, 2010).

Hong Kong Policy Agenda: Preserving Chinese Art Forms Culturally, Hong Kong is a variant of traditional Chinese culture, having blended Chinese and Western cultural practices since the colonial era. On the one hand, many Hong Kong natives think of themselves as Chinese and speak the local Cantonese language, but on the other they highly value the adoption of Western culture and language. Idioms such as “Bye-​bye” and “Hi” are standard in daily discourse, for example. Since 1997, there has been a concerted national effort to preserve and strengthen Chinese cultural forms through citizen education policies aimed at preserving an authentic national Chinese identity. In response to music curriculum reform efforts begun in 2003, music teachers in Hong Kong have been asked to develop citizenship education curricula to comply with a state-​sponsored goal of enhancing the next generation’s affinity for their Chinese musical heritage. At present there is no official music curriculum, but only a music curriculum guide for primary and junior secondary levels 1–​9, published in 2003. Teaching Chinese music is one of the main thrusts of the new music curriculum guide, and because Cantonese opera is one Chinese musical genre actively performed and familiar in Hong Kong, the Hong Kong Education Bureau has promoted the inclusion of Cantonese opera as a curricular component since 1997. Because most music teachers possess very limited Chinese music background, the Education Bureau has spent considerable resources promoting Cantonese opera by providing free in-​service training for teachers.

Creativity in Partnership Practices

101

Partnership Project: Cantonese Opera Curriculum Development For this project, a university researcher and a Cantonese opera artist received funding from the Cantonese Opera Development Fund under the Hong Kong government to partner with seven teachers and 696 students in two secondary and two primary schools to coteach the genre and develop curriculum materials. Since most music teachers in Hong Kong were trained in Western classical traditions, and few teachers in any Hong Kong schools are sufficiently familiar with Cantonese opera or Chinese musical arts to create curricula, this project was funded as a professional development grant for teachers. The grant provided time for access to professional opera artists in order for teachers to increase their own skills in the genre, and to develop curriculum materials. Bo Wah Leung’s role as researcher was to enlist teachers in administering pre-​post project questionnaires, conducting interviews with teachers, students, and visiting artist, and supervising the research assistant who video-​recorded every class for later analyses (Leung, 2010; Leung & Leung, 2010). Like most operatic forms, Cantonese opera is an integrated interdisciplinary art form involving music, movement (dance), drama, literature, and visual arts. Similar to other forms of Chinese opera, Cantonese opera features singing, instrument playing, martial arts, acrobatics, and acting. The “four skills” is a term used by opera artists referring to the main techniques that actors must possess, that is, singing, delivery of the speech-​types, acting and movement, and martial and gymnastic skills; the first two refer to the genre’s aural elements and the last two to its visual elements (Yung, 1989). The collaboration established relationships between a Cantonese opera singer-​ actor, two secondary music teachers, five primary music teachers, the researcher (Leung) as project leader, and his research assistant. The two secondary schools involved students in grades 8 (aged 13–​14) and 9 (age 14–​15); the two primary schools involved students in grades 4 (aged 9–​10) and 6 (aged 11–​12). The project lasted about one year, and required teachers to attend four three-​hour workshops to learn basic knowledge and singing skills of Cantonese opera. After the workshops, teachers collaborated individually with the artist in designing their curricula. Then, artist and teacher taught collaboratively in each school for three hours each week for eight weeks to implement the curriculum. All teaching took place in students’ music lessons as part of their formal music curriculum. One of the learning tasks in this project was for students to compose a kind of rhythmic speech called bak lam (in Cantonese) used in the Cantonese Opera. Bak lam, known as “platter speech” (Yung, 1989), refers to a kind of rhyme speech in stable tempo and beats accompanied by the percussion instrument buk jy, a “large and hollow woodblock used for maintaining pulse in vocal music” (Chan, 1991, 359–​360) When reciting bak lam, actors must group the words of the speech into phrases in different rhythmic patterns, so bak lam is a common device for actors to

102

Bernadette D. Colley et al

improvise on stage in order to lengthen the performance due to its free structure and improvisatory nature (Chan, 1999). The project’s pedagogical objectives were both to learn about the nature of this kind of speech and to learn to perform bak lam. Creative tasks included the artist involving students in composing a piece of bak lam individually and in small groups. Students first had to create the verbal phrases, then decide the rhythms of the speech, and then perform their pieces in class. They had to consider the meaning of each of the individual words, and the holistic expression of the phrase in order to decide the rhythm. In Cantonese opera, the literature (the words), the drama (how to act and perform), and music are closely connected. Therefore, students had to gain a solid knowledge and understanding of these aspects in order to create and perform the speech in a manner that was stylistically accurate, that is, using appropriate expressive qualities of the genre’s unique singing style. The creative process thus involved imitation, improvisation, and composition. The core of learning to perform Cantonese opera is to learn to sing in its unique vocal style, so the visiting artist focused on singing supported with percussion accompaniment. Singing was emphasized through the artist employing an aural approach to learning by listening and imitating, supplementing with explanations of various characteristics. The learning process relied, appropriately, on a master-​disciple relationship in which students were expected to imitate their master’s performance. Although the artist acted as the assessor of students’ work, he evaluated their works according to how closely student singers modeled traditional performance practices of bak lam. Performances that most accurately modeled the traditional singing style were regarded to be “good,” but he did not characterize them as “creative,” nor would he have done so according to the traditional pedagogy; as he explained, Cantonese opera disciples are asked to first imitate their masters without understanding why. After lengthy imitation, when the learner starts to reflect on the nature of mere imitation (sometimes because the learner would like to be “different” so that the audience will put an eye on the “learner”), she will start to change. Creativity would only be built on the personal self-​reflection on performance after a solid development of foundation skills through imitation.

Norway Policy Agenda: Producing Creative, Integrated, Interactive Projects The Norwegian government’s cultural policy for art, culture, and creativity has a number of mechanisms for promoting and facilitating cultural understanding

Creativity in Partnership Practices

103

among children and youth. Creativity, culture and the arts link Norway’s educational, cultural, and economic policy priorities: Appreciating art and culture plays a significant part in the development of the individual’s personality and quality of life . . .. Art, design, entertainment and appreciation of cultural activities are also important for economic growth, innovation and value creation. (Ministry of Culture, 2008, 4)

Norway’s main policy instrument for such projects is the Cultural Rucksack (Den kulturelle skolesekken; DKS), a national program that is a joint initiative of the Ministry of Culture and Church Affairs and the Ministry of Education and Research. The Cultural Rucksack works to “enable pupils to become acquainted with artistic and cultural expressions of a high quality and a professional standard” and enable them to “enjoy artistic and cultural productions provided by professionals” (see the Cultural Rucksack website:  www. denkulturelleskolesekken.no). The Cultural Rucksack program thus confirms the national government’s commitment to arts and music in education, and in particular specifically endorses creative activities and projects that involve professional artists. In addition, the National Norwegian Curriculum stipulates co-​ operation between professional artists, for example actors and musicians, and teachers and pupils as a vital part of the subject of music, which may “contribute to satisfy the school’s aim to develop creative, interacting and integrated individuals who are able to realize their potential in ways that benefit both individuals and society as a whole” (Ministry of Education and Research, 2006, 1).

Partnership Project: Write an Opera—​The Golden Tiger In this partnership between a Bergen school and the Bit20 Ensemble (a local performing art and music establishment:  www.bit20.no), two teachers, 45 12-​ year-​old seventh-​graders, an actor, a musician, and a designer collaborated for 13 days to create, produce, and present an original opera called The Golden Tiger. Funding for the opera project was granted through Norway’s Cultural Rucksack initiative, and artistic leadership was assumed initially by the three visiting professionals, and later included the school’s two music teachers. The visiting ensemble spent six hours daily at the school for 13 days working with teachers and students, and the overall didactic goal was for pupils to take responsibility for every aspect of creating, producing, and presenting the opera (Murphy, 2002). Since this was very much a process-​driven collaboration, our description presents a chronology of its events, as observed over the course of the project by researcher-​author Randi Margrethe Eidssa, who was granted permission to record and study the creative process as a participant-​observer. Eidsaa took part in warm-​up exercises and assisted with practical matters, such as monitoring group

104

Bernadette D. Colley et al

sessions, and notating pupils’ compositions when needed, but did not function in an evaluative role. The first two days of the residency were spent on warm-​up dramatic exercises, familiarizing the students with relevant vocabulary of the genre and allowing practice in creating several plots with different types of characters, dialogues, and lyrics. By the end of Day 2, the group of 45 children had discussed various ideas about their opera’s geographic setting, time period, character types, character names, themes, and theses, and had agreed on:  Rome, Italy, from 1990 to 2000; a Mafia organization; and a diamond robbery, murder, and pregnancy as central features of the opera plot, as well as the names, appearance, and personality of seven of its characters. On Day 3, pupils’ activity focused on musical composition in a session on connecting musical elements, musical effects, and moods. Exercises involved warm-​ups for voices and instruments, experimentation with rhythmic and tonal patterns, timbres, and sound effects. Students created short dynamic pieces of music illustrating characters, events, and moods. Day 4 focused on visual and spatial design, encompassing elements of architecture, interior design, stage design, visual effects, costumes, and fashion. By Day 5 students had been grouped according to those working with composition, design, acting, writing, or practical tasks. During Week 2, the activities intensified. Children were expected to create more themselves, and to act on their own ideas at every stage of the project. Pupils were continuously involved in genuine explorations of the opera material that developed from one day to another. Likewise, the thesis, plot, characters, and event line derived from “brainstorming” sessions led by visiting artists ultimately formed the opera’s libretto. So, too, for music composition, as this session transcript depicts: “This morning we are going to compose the melody of the first song,” says the musician. “Maria wrote the lyrics yesterday. What would you suggest as a suitable pulse? And what style? Remember when we discussed the difference between a waltz and a march yesterday? Do you think that this song is a march?” One of the boys says that he prefers a waltz. Then the pupils agree on the waltz. The musician goes on; “Hey John, could you suggest a melody for the first line of the lyrics? And keep in mind the pulse of a waltz. Show us on your keyboard!” John hesitates, but plays an octave interval, then a seventh, and then a sixth. The musician continues: “This sounds great John!” (Eidsaa, 2011)

The new opera emerged on Day 11, when the various parts were finally linked together. Children’s creative engagement was enabled by guest artists introducing via exploration a number of musical ideas. The visiting professional musicians were diversified enough in their own musical training to be able to embrace both students’ improvised musical style preferences and any individual student’s formally derived musical skills. The musicians presented melodic and rhythmic motifs and asked the children to reflect on timbre, instrumentation, contrasts, musical structure, and foreground/​background. Eventually, these elements developed into a collaborative composition and culminated in a public performance for the community.

Creativity in Partnership Practices

105

United States Policy Agenda: Increasing Utilization of Local Cultural Resources Public schools in the United States are managed and administered locally by over 114,000 independent school districts; thus, music and arts education programs vary widely in scope and quality according to the socioeconomic status of the community. The National Endowment for the Arts, through its enabling legislation, funds grants to each state arts agency proportional to population for various arts-​based initiatives, including arts education. Historically, the Endowment has displayed a philosophical propensity to support the work of professional artists. Ever since poet Kenneth Koch (1980) engaged New York city grade-​school children in writing poetry decades ago, the artist-​in-​schools program has grown exponentially, and has been accompanied by an evolution of designations (e.g., “artist-​in-​schools,” “artist-​in-​residence,” “artist teacher,” and “teaching artist,”) which distinguish visiting professionals “working at the intersection of arts and learning” from those (art teacher, music teacher) who work in mainstream employment as certified teachers for local school boards. In Boston, private funding from the Pew Charitable Trust foundation and the Boston Foundation combined with a grant from the Massachusetts Cultural Council enabled Boston’s Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum (ISGM) to launch its program Eye of the Beholder in 1996. According to ISGM’s executive director and education director, Eye of the Beholder was transformative in expanding the museum’s status beyond collection repository to local cultural center (ISGM, 2000). We include this project in our cross-​cultural music education partnerships sample because its path to music education was, uniquely, through a local prestigious art museum’s initiative. While this partnership was neither conceived nor designed as a music education program per se, it demonstrates a kind of creativity possible in music teaching and learning when educational and cultural institutions collaborate to support interdisciplinary thinking and engage students’ creative capacities in multiple art forms. Its interdisciplinary components exemplify a commitment to arts education conceived in broad and diverse terms; moreover, the program has yet to be reported to the music education community. The two main objectives of Eye of the Beholder during its four-​year grant period were: first, to extend the breadth and reach of the museum’s program for general visitors by initiating new mechanisms for educational opportunities for all ages; second, to expand the ISGM’s artist-​in-​residence and school programs, both of which enabled administrators, teachers, and pupils from neighborhood schools to interact with the collection itself and with resident visiting artists, including poets, storytellers, writers, and visual or performing artists, who were invited to live at the Gardner for one month. Having 24-​hour access to the museum, each artist developed a uniquely inspired response to some item or component of the

106

Bernadette D. Colley et al

Gardner’s collection, archives, staff, or building. All artists-​in-​residence shared their work with museum audiences through Eye of the Beholder lectures, exhibitions, and performances of their work, and School Partnership Program activities. As a member of the evaluation team that evaluated the Eye of the Beholder program over the course of four years, Bernadette D. Colley conducted field observations of all school partnership sessions and events, and interviewed participating teachers, students, artists, and museum staff.

Partnership Project: Eye of the Beholder—​Titian’s Europa When he arrived at the ISGM in 1998, composer-​in-​residence Kenneth Frazelle had previously been involved in more extensive school opera collaborations elsewhere, but the ISGM partnership, though not as elaborate in its final product, stood out in his mind for its interdisciplinary link to painting and Titian’s masterpiece. In school partnerships elsewhere, Frazelle had worked with a language and drama facilitator who helped second-​and fourth-​graders convert words into song. “While these fully staged adaptations of Rumpelstiltskin and Snow White were interesting musically,” he said, “they did not have the synesthetic beauty of having a painting generate the narrative and melodic line” (Kenneth Frazelle, correspondence with Bernadette D. Colley, 15th June, 2010). For Frazelle’s school collaboration, the museum’s education department matched composer-​in-​residence with two fifth-​grade teachers from a local elementary school. During six two-​hour morning sessions at the museum, Frazelle engaged fifth-​graders in composing opera libretti using Titian’s 1562 masterpiece Europa as a narrative prompt for the opera’s plot and dialogue. In a 2002 survey of Boston’s museum directors naming Titian’s Europa as the city’s “most important work of art,” ISGM director Anne Hawley explained: first of all, it is a passionate and transcendent story of love, since it illustrates the mythological tale of the god Zeus seducing a mortal princess, Europa. The work also tells the story of the art of painting: it demonstrates Titian’s supreme capacity of brush, with strokes that range from the most delicate to huge gestures in paint. The colors are sublime, with opalescent creamy whites mingling with saturated reds and pinks, and luminescent blues. Individual details captivate the eye: the female companions of Europa huddle on the shore and gesture wildly towards her. They are rendered in very loose brushwork, while the putto riding the large sea dolphin is so naturally painted that we can see sun dancing on his curly golden locks. (ISGM, 2002)

For the school-​partnership sessions, children were seated in front of Europa. After an initial age-​appropriate explanation of the painting’s subject by education coordinator Gretchen Dietrich, composer Frazelle warmed students up for their creative task with exercises using various compositional components and opera terminology. He asked a trio of girls to create and chant phrases to reflect

Creativity in Partnership Practices

107

what might have been on the minds of Europa’s frantic attending maidens in the lower left corner of the canvas, and then had them derive an ostinati based on that text. Rhythmic and melodic motifs were improvised to align with characters and events, then memorized and recorded in the libretto to be the basis of the score. Recitatives were developed to recount characters’ reactions to the story’s events, imitating the character’s dramatized speech inflections. More extensive and lengthy arias, rendering the reactions and innermost thoughts of the central characters (Zeus, Europa, the putto, and dolphin) about the events depicted in the painting, were chanted as soliloquies. Inspired by the gleam in the bull’s eye in the lower right corner of the canvas, one boy developed a comic aria depicting Zeus’s transformation from deity to bull, “all for the love of Europa.” Children thus learned, appropriately used, and enacted opera-​related vocabulary and concepts as these exercises eventually developed into “minioperas,” which small groups performed informally for their classmates in front of Titian’s canvas during their final session at the museum.

Summary and Conclusions These four case descriptions represent an international and wide-​ranging sum of expertise between musicians, writers, designers, visual artists, teachers, program administrators, and organizations with missions clearly distinct from one another, as Table 6.1 depicts. While they differ in setting, participants, content, intent, and outcome, each partnership as a process laid a foundation for a focused, collaborative cultural venture synergizing relationships that likely would not have otherwise occurred, nor perhaps even been possible. Common themes are emerging from the few existing systematic third-​party evaluations of partnership programs; however, drawing generalized conclusions from these is problematic due to confounding variation in art form, purpose, age level, focus, and cultural setting. Challenges of program sustainability, negotiating tensions over egalitarian access to programs and artists, and lack of clarity as to artist-​teacher roles remain. Success factors reported in music and arts education partnerships evaluations include: good communication, cooperation, music specialist involvement, extensive planning, flexibility, shared resources, curricular-​driven dialogue, and embedded action research (see Abeles, 2004; Abeles et  al., 2002; Borgen & Brandt, 2006; Cape UK, 2009; Catterall & Waldorf, 2000; Colley, 2008; Galton, 2008; Kenny, 2009; Leung & Leung, 2010; Myers & Brooks, 2002; Myers & Dansereau, 2006; SCC, 2006; WCC, 2004b). At the least, evidence to date indicates that adopting a collaborative partnership strategy as a “creativity policy,” providing that a partnership contains these elements, will not only afford opportunities for participants

Table 6.1 Partnership project comparative overview. Location

Policy Agenda

Leader/​Collaborators

Creative Practice

Outcomes

Ireland

Raising arts consciousness

Local Arts Office

Whisper of Ghosts

Involving communities

Elder Group

County Wexford

Creating arts opportunities

Irish Chamber Orchestra

Composing texts and music for commissioned choral orchestral work

Premiere of commissioned choral/​orchestral work, by professionals and students Publication of participant compositions

3 primary schools Hong Kong Cantonese Opera Project

Preserving historically significant musical art forms

Hong Kong China

University Opera Company 1 Artist in Residence 2 middle; 2 secondary schools

Norway Write-​An-​ Opera: The Golden Tiger Bergen United States Eye of the Beholder Boston MA

Cognitive development of artistic and creative capacities in students

Multi-​arts Ensemble

Institutional Advocacy and Awareness of Local Resource

Museum

(Actor, Musician, Designer) 1 primary school

Composer in Residence 1 primary school

Students: Composing genre-​ specific texts and music

Teacher professional development

Teachers and Artists: Developing curricular resources

Artist professional development Curriculum resources

Development, writing and production of opera, including all audio-​visual aspects of creation, production, and presentation

Culminating performance

Writing/​performing opera segments using masterpiece painting as narrative

Formal relationship to museum and its collection

Video recording

Creativity in Partnership Practices

109

to exercise and develop their creative capacities, but will have catalytic value for changing approaches to teaching and learning music.

Reflective Questions



1. Given any essential topic or concept in a music curricular area and a specified community and locale, how would one design and structure a partnership to provide opportunities for students and teachers to engage in creativity to understand that topic or concept? 2. To what extent are policy decisions in music education local, and where does one draw the line in demarcating “local”? 3. How might music teacher education programs prepare teachers to balance and resolve tensions between “creativity” and “performativity” in designing and implementing music instruction for schools? 4. What is the relationship between policy and practice in music education partnerships? What impact might this have on the partnership? On opportunities for creativity?

Inquiries or commentary about this chapter may be addressed to lead author Bernadette D. Colley, www.colleyconsulting.com.

WEBSITES Ireland

http://www.wexford.ie/wex/Departments/Arts/ArtsinthePublicArena/PublicArt/ PhaseI1997-2004/​ http://www.artscouncil.ie/home/ https://www.cmc.ie/​library/​work_​detail.cfm?workID=5265. https://publicart.ie.

Hong Kong

https://​gitso-​outage.oracle.com/​thinkquest. http://​www.pearlmagik.com/​bayareacantoneseopera/​aboutopera.htm. http://​www.youtube.com/​watch?v=Zc4W0bnI068 (Singing in Cantonese opera). http://​www.youtube.com/​watch?v=2bsbv6sBeSk (bak lam).

Norway

www.denkulturelleskolesekken.no. http://​www.roh.org.uk/​learning/​learning-​platform. https://​www.udir.no/​in-​english/​. http://​www.dennyeopera.no/​. www.bit20.no.

110

Bernadette D. Colley et al

United States

https://​www.gardnermuseum.org. https://​www.gardnermuseum.org/​experience/​collection?keys=europa&sort=title. www.kennethfrazelle.com. www.aep-​arts.org.

REFERENCES Abeles, H. (2004). The effect of three orchestra/​school partnerships on students’ interest in instrumental music instruction. Journal of Research in Music Education, 52(3), 248–​264. Abeles, H., Hafeli, M., Horowitz, R., & Burton, J. (2002). The evaluation of arts partnerships and learning in and through the arts. In R. Colwell & C. Richardson (eds.), The new handbook of research in music education (pp. 931–​940). MENC:A Project of the Music Educators National Conference. New York: Oxford University Press. ACI. (2010). Arts Council Ireland. Developing the Arts in Ireland:  Arts Council Strategic Overview 2011–​2013. Dublin: Arts Council Ireland. ACI. (2005). Arts Council Ireland. Partnership for the arts in practice 2006–​2010. Dublin: Arts Council Ireland. ACI. (2006). Arts Council Ireland. Artists-​schools guidelines: Towards best practice in Ireland. Dublin: Arts Council Ireland. ACI. (2008). Arts Council of Ireland. Points of alignment: The report of the special committee on the arts and education. Dublin: Arts Council of Ireland. AEP. (2003). Arts Education Partnership Forum Report. Teaching Partnerships: Report of a National Forum on Partnerships Improving Teaching of the Arts. www.aep-​arts.org. AEP. (2005, January). Arts Education Partnership Forum Report. Critical issues in arts education: Partnering with philanthropy. www.aep-​arts.org. AEPR. (2003). Arts Education Policy Review. Introduction:  Arts education and arts partnerships (Editorial). Arts Education Policy Review, September-​October, 105(1), 3. Borgen, J. S., & Brandt, S.S (2006). Extraordinary or inevitable? Evaluating The Cultural Rucksack, a new arts and cultural program in primary and lower secondary school. http://​english.nifustep.no/​norsk/​publikasjoner/​evaluation_​of_​the_​cultural_​rucksack_​a_​ summary. Burnard, P. (2007). Provocations in creativity. In L. Bresler (ed.), International handbook of research in arts education, (pp. 1175–​1181). Netherlands: Springer. Burnard, P. (2008). Appropriating a new professionalism in music education through creative mediation. Journal of Artistic and Creative Education 2(2), 3–​23. Cape UK. (2009). The Teacher Artist Partnership Programme (TAPP) Model. Leeds: Cape UK. Catterall, J. S., & Waldorf, L. (2000). Chicago arts partnerships in education: Summary evaluation. In E. G. Fiske (ed.), Champions of change: The impact of the arts on learning (pp. 47–​62). Washington, DC: Arts Education Partnership. CCE. (2010). Creativity, Culture, and Education. Homepage. http://​www. creativitycultureeducation.org [accessed November 24, 2017]. Chan, S. Y. (1991). Improvisation in a ritual context:  The music of Cantonese opera. Hong Kong: Chinese University Press. Chan, S. Y. (1999). Xianggang yueju daolun [Introduction to the Cantonese opera of Hong Kong]. Hong Kong: Cantonese Opera Research Project, Chinese University of Hong Kong.

Creativity in Partnership Practices

111

Colley, B. (2008). Partnerships and local K–​12 arts education policy development: Significant beginnings. Arts Education Policy Review 109(5), 9–​18. Csikszentmihalyi, M. (1996). Creativity: Flow and the psychology of discovery and invention. New York: HarperCollins. Dartnall, T. (ed.) (2002). Creativity, cognition, and knowledge:  An interaction. Westport, CT: Praeger. Deasy, R. J. (ed.) (2002). Critical links: Learning in the arts and student academic and social development. Washington DC: Arts Education Partnership. Eidsaa, R. M. (2011) What characterizes the participants’ communication during creative collaborative music projects? Paper presented at Rommetveit Seminar:  Grieg Research School in Interdisciplinary Music Studies, 14–​17 June, Stord, Norway. Fautley, M., & Savage, J. (2007). Creativity in secondary education. Exeter, UK:  Learning Matters. Fiske, E. B. (ed.). (1999). Champions of change: The impact of the arts on learning. Washington, DC:  Arts Education Partnership and the President’s Committee on the Arts and the Humanities, 47–​62. Galton, M. (2008). Creative practitioners in schools and classrooms. Final report of the project:  The Pedagogy of Creative Practitioners in Schools. Cambridge:  University of Cambridge. Hickey, M. (2002). Creativity research in music, visual art, theater, and dance. In R. Colwell & C. Richardson (eds.), The new handbook of research on music teaching and learning (pp. 391–​415). New York: Oxford University Press. Hope, Samuel. (2002). Policy frameworks, research, and K–​12 schooling. In R. Colwell & C. Richardson (eds.), The new handbook of research on music teaching and learning (pp. 5–​16). New York: Oxford University Press. Humphreys, J. T. (2006). Toward a reconstruction of “creativity” in music education. British Journal of Music Education 23(3), 351–​361. ISGM. (2000). Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. Eye of the beholder: Contemporary artists and the public at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. http://​www.gardnermuseum.org/​ education/​eye_​of_​the_​beholder_​text.html ISGM. (2002). Europa, Europa—​A canvass of area museum directors shows Titian’s a standout in Boston art. Boston Globe, July 2002, as quoted in www.gardnermuseum.org/​ collection/​europa.asp Jeffery, G. (ed.) (2005). The creative college: Building a successful learning culture in the arts. Straffordshire, UK: Trentham Books. Kenny, A. (2009). Knowing the score:  Local authorities and music. Dublin:  St. Patrick’s College, Wexford Co. Council, Sligo County Council. Koch, K. (1980). Wishes, lies, and dreams:  Teaching children to write poetry. New York: HarperCollins (reprint). Leung, B. W. (2010, July 25–​30). Teacher-​artist partnership in teaching Cantonese opera in Hong Kong schools: Teacher transformation. Paper presented at the 23rd International Research Seminar of the International Society of Music Education, Changchun, China. Leung, B. W., & Leung, E. C. K. (2010). Teacher-​artist partnership in teaching Cantonese opera in Hong Kong schools: Student transformation. International Journal of Education and the Arts, 11(5), 28–​40. Mayer, R. E. (1999). Fifty years of creativity research. In R. J. Sternberg (ed.), Handbook of creativity (pp. 449–​460). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Ministry of Culture. (2007). Report No. 8 to the Storting (2007–​2008.) A Cultural Rucksack for the Future. Oslo: Kulturdepartementet, www.denkulturelleskolesekken.no.

112

Bernadette D. Colley et al

Ministry of Culture. (2008). The Cultural Initiative and the value of a cultural policy for children and youth 2004–​2014. Oslo: Kulturdepartementet. Ministry of Education and Research. (2006). Promoting knowledge. The curriculum for the 10 Year Compulsory School in Norway. Oslo: Kunnskapsdepartementet. Murphy, R. (2002). The quest for a collaborative culture of teaching—​in the write an opera mode. Paper presented at the World Conference of the International Society for Music Education. 15th July, Bergen, Norway. Myers, D. E., & Brooks, A. C. (2002). Policy issues in connecting music education with arts education. In R. Colwell & C. Richardson (eds.), The new handbook of research on music teaching and learning (pp. 909–​930). New York: Oxford University Press. Myers, D. E., & Dansereau, D. (2006). Beyond tradition II. American Symphony Orchestra League Resource Paper, http://​www.americanorchestras.org/​news-​publications.html. Pariser, D., & Zimmerman, E. (2004). Learning in the visual arts: Characteristics of gifted and talented individuals. In E. W. Eisner & M. D. Day (eds.), Handbook of research and policy in art education (pp. 379–​405). Mahwah. NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates. Richmond, J. (2002). Policy and philosophy. In R. Colwell & C. Richardson (eds.), The new handbook of research on music teaching and learning (p. 3). New  York:  Oxford University Press. Riley, R. W. (2002). Education reform through standards and partnerships. Phi Delta Kappa, 83(May), 9. SCC. (2006). Sligo County Council. Live music in the classroom—​An analysis of the primary curriculum support program of the Vogler Quartet in Sligo Residency. Sligo: Sligo County Council. Thornton, C. (2002). Creativity and runaway learning. In T. Dartnall (ed.), Creativity, cognition, and knowledge (pp. 239–​249). Westport, CT: Praeger. UNESCO. (2000). World culture report. UNESCO. UNESCO. (2005). Educating for creativity: Bringing the arts and culture into Asian education. Report of the Asian Regional Symposia on Arts Education. Bangkok: UNESCO. WCC. (2004a). Wexford County Council. Foreword: The whisper of ghosts. Wexford: Wexford County Council. WCC. (2004b). Wexford County Council. A documented and evaluated account of the Fardystown Regional Water Supply Percent for Art Commission. Wexford: Wexford County Council. Wolf, D. P. (1999). Why the arts matter in education or just what do children learn when they create an opera. In E. G. Fiske (ed.), Champions of change: The impact of the arts on learning (pp. 47–​62). Washington, DC: Arts Education Partnership. Yung, B. (1989). Cantonese opera: Performance as creative process. Cambridge: University of Cambridge Press.

Part 2

MUSIC LEARNING AND TEACHING THROUGH TECHNOLOGY Part Editor Evangelos Himonides

Chapter 7

COMMENTARY: MUSIC LEARNING AND TEACHING THROUGH TECHNOLOGY Evangelos Himonides

Compiling a part of this volume that focuses on technology for such a monumental anthology of scholarly work as this one has been an exciting, yet significant, challenge. This was, mainly, due to the very nature of “technology” and, consequently, “music technology,” and their status within the broader fields of music and education. Identity and “labeling” are very strong notions in our field, often celebrating (or acting as self-​assigned psychological reward tokens of) extremely hard and copious work invested, from the very early years, and continually through our lifetimes, in becoming musicians and educators. We are likely to self identify as (one of, or perhaps multitalented or focused) classical musicians, popular musicians, folk musicians, jazz musicians, concert instrumentalists, solo artists, band musicians, conductors, early childhood specialists, music educators, vocal leaders, singing coaches, music therapists, community musicians, music teacher trainers, clinicians, group pedagogues, theorists, musicologists, music psychologists, sociologists of music, philosophers, researchers and scientists, world musics’ specialists, composers, policy-​makers, and advocates for music. At the same time, we are likely to engage and interact, daily, with multiple forms of “technology,” not only within our professional acumen but also as an integral part of our non-​professional lives. But how do we employ, utilize, engage with, rely upon, or

116

Evangelos Himonides

enhance our practice with “music technology”? What is the role of “music technology” in our lives as musicians and music pedagogues and how is this evidenced? This part of the volume attempts to commence a critical but also constructive discourse about the role of “any” technology within the broader fields of music and education. The contributors in this section have chosen different perspectives and foci in instigating this discourse, all of them diverse, but, arguably, all celebrating how essential technology is (or should be) in our music-​infused modus vivendi. In the first chapter of this part of the volume, Himonides (­chapter 8) proposes that technology should be seen from a meta perspective, and not necessarily as narrowly focused as a substantial part of the music educator and practitioner populations might expect. In doing so, he argues that the technological humanity has rather been developing in tandem with the musical humanity and that we cannot really draw a line or threshold past which the traditional ends and the technological begins, not only at a philosophical but also at a praxial level. Himonides argues that the role of technology is often misunderstood and perceived as an ephemeron; the panacea; a heuristic remedy for very particular, task-​driven approaches. He contends that it should be viewed as an integral—​and unavoidable—​part of the musical engagement, development, and educational processes and asserts that our focus should be on the critical assessment of the effectiveness of any technology and its role in effective teaching and learning, as framed by findings in ground-​breaking funded research in education and the social sciences. In augmenting his argument about novel but also creative use of technology, Himonides provides 11 exemplars from real-​life research where it is thought that technology has been employed innovatively and outside the common vernacular. In his conclusion, Himonides highlights that his argument is not offered as an act of denial of the undeniably rapid technological outbreak that we have been (and will continue to) experience in our time. He rather poses that we should be less focused on what technology and how to use it and more on why a technology should be employed and how it could be used effectively in celebrating our musicality and furthering our development as musicians and learners. Ross Purves (­chapter 9) broadens the discourse by suggesting that large-​scale, complex technological installations are not necessarily the ones that offer the most powerful professional development experiences to practitioners and educators. He explores how the economist E. F. Schumacher’s concept of “intermediate technology” could potentially be used to describe a range of small, low-​cost and increasingly pervasive technological tools that feature in the contemporary everyday working lives of many music teachers. Based on current educational theory and practice, Purves asserts that these “intermediate technologies,” although often taken for granted and outside the cutting-​edge music education technology limelight, are the ones that are likely to be catalytic in furthering and continually supporting one’s professional development. Purves argues that, in distinct contrast to the “transformative” and “revolutionary” educational reform and technological rhetoric of governments, but also the technology manufacturing industries and supplying

Commentary

117

channels, teachers are more likely to make small, incremental changes to improve long-​term teaching and learning practices. He provides evidence that suggest that music teachers are most likely to embrace such technologies when they align closely with their existing practice, beliefs, and teaching and learning objectives. In the final part of his chapter, Purves provides a case study of the open-​source and freely available software Audacity as a popular paradigm of an “intermediate technology.” In “The Student Prince” (­chapter 10), Andrew King examines studio recording practice from a pedagogical perspective. King has cleverly adopted the title from Sigmund Romberg’s famous operetta from the 1920s in presenting the paradigm of the multiple award-​winning soul, funk, and rhythm & blues musician Prince (a.k.a. Prince Rogers Nelson; the Artist formerly known as Prince). Prince’s exemplar is offered in presenting how different norms and ethics in studio recording practice might shift between generations and how particular workflows can be rethought or transformed with the advent of new (or more accessible) technologies. As King argues, “the approach used by Prince is typical of many young musicians who are able to compose, record, edit, produce, and ultimately publish their own music via the use of technology. Therefore, students are enthusiastically taking responsibility for the artistry of their work but also the scientific elements through its production.” King believes that it is important that educators nurture not only the creative talents of learners but also their scientific discovery when making music with technology. He believes that there is a need for further development of research-​based educational theory and provides evidence that the plethora of current published work in the field rather focuses on the acquisition of procedural skills (or the teaching of tools), not least because of the complexity of the apparatus at the students’ disposal when creating music with technology. King also provides a very comprehensive overview of the different kinds of recording spaces and technologies and, consequently, the different classes of challenges that an educator might face in fostering development within those spaces. King believes that the recording studio is the ground where art meets science. He argues that this ground is still virgin but ascertains that it is also fertile and has the potential to become fruitful both for the educator learner and the student learner. In the final chapter of this part of this volume, Jonathan Savage (­chapter  11) draws together what is presented in the preceding chapters, and provides further evidence that amplify this part’s themes. Savage uses those themes in order to anticipate future dispositions towards the application of music technology in educational settings. He, too, highlights the potentially destructive power of the continually and rapidly expanding selection of technological tools and argues that “now, more than ever, music educators need to maintain their focus on what constitutes effective teaching and learning with music technology.” Savage quotes Sir Winston Churchill’s statement “it is always wise to look ahead, but difficult to look further than one can see,” and invites us to consider what methods or tools we could utilize in order to do this more effectively. He discusses the challenges for establishing key principles for modern pedagogical practice, first by looking backwards and presenting how

118

Evangelos Himonides

technology has permeated every aspect of our musical lives in the twenty-​first century, and then by looking ahead and critically assessing how technology leaves its mark on our work and in our minds and how its imprint becomes firmly embedded on our pedagogies, implicating our thinking in implicit and explicit ways. A strong evidence base that Savage provides for looking ahead is that of the funded research program Beyond Current Horizons, which was recently conducted in the United Kingdom. Savage scaffolds his arguments in respect of the future of music technologies in education based on four key principles that the Beyond Current Horizons program developed in order to assist its methodology. This approach is quite similar to the one that Himonides and Purves followed with the Teaching and Learning Research Program’s Ten Holistic Principles of Effective Teaching and Learning (mentioned in ­chapter 8 as a starting point upon which the chapter is further developed). Savage goes further by inviting us to consider four key possibilities or challenges facing music education as new technologies emerge and are applied to processes of teaching and learning. These are: empowering “trading zones” and redefining subject cultures; developing a new language of music; relocating musical knowledge, skills, and understanding; and, facilitating educational collaborations. Savage believes that teachers will become more adept at creating interesting opportunities for learning with and through digital technologies for their students. Nevertheless, he asserts that future actions need to be contextualized within a clear understanding of wider frameworks and assumptions. In conclusion, this author would like to invite readers to engage in the discourse inaugurated herein, first by performing a critical self-​assessment about their personal attitudes towards technology within the broader fields of music and education. It has been a challenge to stay clear of treating music technology simply as another facet (or particular specialism) of music education, as a plethora of undergraduate but also postgraduate courses all over the world often do. The reader is invited to browse through the headings of all the other parts of this volume and see how technology can play an important role in—​or even form an integral part of—​our musically developing lives, irrespective of how these have unfolded. This is something that deserves to be celebrated.

Chapter 8

THE MISUNDERSTANDING OF MUSIC-​T ECHNOLOGY EDUCATION: A META PERSPECTIVE Evangelos Himonides

This chapter rehearses notions that are hypothesized to be significant in formulating a critical understanding of “technology” within the wider contexts of music and education. It draws upon a position chapter by Himonides and Purves (2010), in which the need for a broad understanding of “technology” (or its contemporary, oft-​utilized synonym information and communications technology, “ICT”) is framed and advocated. As argued by Himonides and Purves (2010), technology should not be treated as the panacea, nor as a first aid kit that contains sterilized heuristic remedies for the music educator to apply in their classroom context. It is advocated that technology, in our case “music technology,” should be treated as any other tool underpinning and supporting teaching and learning that “equips learners for life in its broader sense”; helps us “engage with valued forms of knowledge”; celebrates and “recognizes the importance of prior learning and experience”; “requires the teacher to scaffold learning”; “needs assessment to be congruent with learning”; “promotes the active engagement of the learner”; “fosters both individual and social processes and outcomes”; “recognizes the significance of informal learning”; “depends on teacher learning”; and, finally, “demands consistent policy frameworks with support for teaching and learning as the primary focus.”

120

Evangelos Himonides

The “Musicking” Humanity’s Timeline In understanding “What is music technology?” within the wider contexts of music and education, it is likely to be helpful briefly to review our phylogenetic journey not only as musicians but also as technologists. Modern “humans” are believed to descend from the genus homo (Ruse & Travis, 2009), estimated to have lived nearly 2.5 million years ago. No concrete evidence exists that homo was a musical being. Excitingly, though (for this present discussion), scientific evidence regarding human musicality is tied to evidence regarding the utilization of tools. One interpretation of the anthropological evidence is that we evolved to become technologists and musicians at the same time. This hypothesized beginning of human musicality (Arensburg et al., 1989) is placed within the lower-​middle stage of the Paleolithic era, between 300,000 and 30,000 years ago. Should one prefer to tread on a more concrete evidence base regarding the origins of human musicality, a study (Conard, Malina, & Munzel, 2009) reported the discovery of bone and ivory flutes from the early Aurignacian period of southwestern Germany. This can be placed approximately 45,000  years ago. Thus, although one could hypothesize that humanity has been musicking for much longer, paleontological research has demonstrated that specialized musical instruments existed nearly 50,000  years ago. The terms hypothesized and evidenced are used in Table  8.1, in order to compute what percentages of the total hypothesized and evidenced, respectively, musical lifelines certain “technologies” comprise. Paper, something that we frequently use as music educators and performing musicians (to print musical scores), dates back to 1100 (Tsien, 1985). The invention of the stop action pipe organ is placed circa 1400 (Thistlethwaite & Webber, 1999), whereas the modern piano, credited to Bartolomeo Cristofori of Padua in Italy, appeared around 1700. Eleven years later, the invention of the tuning fork is reported, and the first metronome appeared nearly one century after that, patented by Johann Maelzel in 1815. In the patent certificate, Maelzel’s description for his invention was that of an “Instrument/​Machine for the Improvement of all Musical Performance, called Metronome.” In 1835, the silvered glass mirror first begun production (a “technology” that might not appear as relevant to this discussion at this juncture but whose relevance will be presented in the concluding section). In November 21, 1877, Thomas Alva Edison announced to the world his invention for recording and replicating recorded sound, the phonograph. Since then, a plethora of groundbreaking inventions have emerged (such as the personal computer, the Compact Disk (CD), computer-​based word processing, the iPad) that have revolutionized many people’s lives and have also had a great impact on music, music performance, and music education (including analogue synthesizer technology, such as the Theremin, the electric guitar, the tape recorder, the MIDI protocol, Guitar Hero) (see fig. 8.1). This timeline, although potentially informative, provides a rather myopic view of our musicking—​but also technologically evolving—​humanity. Technologies such

Table 8.1 The musicking humanity’s timeline in numbers, including the hypothesized and evidenced contributed percentage for each technology. Year

BC/​AD

2400000

BC

–​

–​

Homo Sapiens

200000

BC

8.410

–​

Modern Human

130000

BC

5.496

–​

Neanderthal flute

82000

BC

3.498

–​

Aurignacian period flute

45000

BC

1.957

55.958

Produced paper

1101

AD

0.038

1.083

Pipe organ (stop action)

1400

AD

0.025

0.727

Piano

1700

AD

0.013

0.370

Tuning fork

1711

AD

0.012

0.357

Metronome

1815

AD

0.008

0.233

Silvered-​glass mirror

1835

AD

0.007

0.209

Thomas Alva Edison’s Phonograph

1877

AD

0.006

0.160

Theremin

1920

AD

0.004

0.108

Electric guitar

1932

AD

0.003

0.094

AEG Magnetophon K1

1935

AD

0.003

0.090

Apple II

1977

AD

0.001

0.040

Red Book Compact disk Audio

1980

AD

0.001

0.037

IBM PC

1981

AD

0.001

0.036

MIDI

1982

AD

0.001

0.035

Microsoft Word

1983

AD

0.001

0.033

Audacity

1999

AD

0.000

0.014

Facebook

2004

AD

0.000

0.008

Guitar Hero

2005

AD

0.000

0.007

iPad

2010

AD

0.000

0.001

Homo genus

% of hypothesized lifeline

% of evidenced lifeline

122

Evangelos Himonides

as the Apple iPad (the “now”) appear as too distant from other technologies that are still being widely used in a music education context such as paper, the piano, and the metronome (i.e. the “then,” the “non-​technological,” the “traditional”). By simply looking at the evidenced departure for human musicality, when the Aurignacian period flute was created, we begin to realize really how contemporary to each other are all those other technologies that appear to be distant (fig. 8.2). Things appear to be even clearer when we broaden the focus, either to the debated origin of the Neanderthal flute, or the hypothesized beginnings of human musicality with homo sapiens, or—​dare we say—​the beginnings of genus homo (fig. 8.3). The timelines presented above, therefore, beg the questions “Where exactly is the threshold past in which Music Technology exists?” “Should everything before this threshold be perceived as mainstream and/​or non-​technological and why?” “Why does music technology often exclusively translate to recording, composing and producing music using a personal computer and other digital tools?” “How has music education really been affected by each of the above pictured technological developments?” A great deal of music-​making (everything apart from singing, presumably) uses technology of some type or another. Thus, any discussion about technology (or music technology) is bound to comprise varying epistemological and/​or philosophical

piano

paper

electric guitar mirror theremin

pipe organ (stop action) tuning fork metronome

phonograph magnetophon

Facebook

MIDI

Audacity

CD audio

Apple II IBM PC

MS Word

iPad

Guitar Hero

Figure 8.1  A timeline of technologies (paper to iPad).

Aurignacian period flute (Conard et al.)

everything else

Figure 8.2  A timeline of technologies (Aurignacian period flute to everything else).

The Misunderstanding of Music-Technology Education

Neanderthal flute

Aurignacian period flute (Conard et al.)

123

everything else

Aurignacian period flute (Conard et al.)

Homo sapiens

genus ‘Homo’

Neanderthal flute

everything else

all documented ‘music technologies’ since the beginning of humanity

Figure 8.3  Three timelines (Homo habilis to Homo Guitar Hero).

argumentation, rather than a concrete and objective ontology. Amusingly, if we employed a statistical approach, we would be entitled to use the above table data and argue that “everything” from paper to iPad “is” music technology. A series of real-​life research exemplars is presented below in the form of 11 case studies. Of those, the first five are presented in greater detail. In all cases, the objective is to demonstrate, report, and celebrate the creative use of technology outside its primarily intended use, in supporting research in musical development and music education in general. The intention in providing a strong argument about the need to rethink “music technology” and its broader scope, in helping to see “music technology” in a variety of contexts, in arguing that the focus is (or should be) music, human musicality, and musical development, is to advocate that we are required—​whatever our perceived expertise might be—​to be critically reflective about our practice and about how different tools and/​or technologies might serve and facilitate our intent, our philosophy, and our moral values. Therefore, it is proposed that we should regard music technology from a meta-​perspective as a means enabling us to become better musicians; understand music and/​or the wider impact that music has on our lives and ongoing development; record, capture, experience, study, create, compose, document, analyze, and archive sound and music; enhance the teaching and learning experience in the music classroom; enhance our lives through experiencing music in new ways; facilitate the communication of our musics (performances or compositions); provide wider access to other people’s musics (individuals’ as well as other cultures’ in general); provide access to music for people with special needs and requirements; monitor and assess our teaching practices in the music classroom; monitor and assess our students’ development and learning experiences; and finally, research, scrutinize, assess, and evaluate current

124

Evangelos Himonides

educational theories (and their application to practice) and allow the development of new theories, practice, and policy for music education.

The “Unforeseen” Effective Technology The Drake Music Project (see Welch, Purves, & Himonides, 2006) was founded in 1988 in order to enable physically disabled people to explore, perform, and compose their own music through the use of specialist and adapted music technology. It is a UK-​wide organization, with regional centers that are designed to serve the needs of local communities. Funded in part by Youth Music, a leading UK charity that supports using music to transform the lives of disadvantaged children and young people (Youth Music, 2011), the “Plug IT” project was organized by Drake’s London Centre and ran from 2005 to 2006. Its overriding aim, as outlined in the initial funding bid, was to “create access to [music making] opportunities for disabled young people.” Plug IT was designed as a one-​year project of three consecutive term-​long workshop “residencies” in Special Educational Needs (SEN) schools in London and the South East. Each residency was conceived as a partnership between the school (including the resident music teacher) and a small team from Drake London, led by a specialist Drake tutor. Two to two and a half hours each week were allocated for music-​making activities with a designated group of children who exhibited a range of disabilities, including individuals with complex special needs. The total package of weekly sessions was intended to “include and encourage group music-​making, listening work, input from [a]‌live instrumentalist, recording and . . . to culminate in an informal sharing session.” In addition, the project made provision for a student from a London music college or university department to be “on placement” within each of the three residencies and to be “mentored” by the Drake tutor. The project funding bid included provision for an independent external evaluation, and the Institute of Education, University of London, was invited to undertake this. Analyses of the complete corpus of observational data (Welch, Purves, & Himonides, 2006) enabled the researchers to feed a number of commendations, but also re-​commendations, back to the project team. The research team reported that there was evidence that with an appropriate partnership of complementary expertise, special music technology could be used effectively in particular special needs contexts to extend pupils’ musical experiences. Where the project worked particularly well, there was evidence of teamwork and partnership at every stage of the process, from local inception and design through to the final collective event. Such successful partnerships were characterized by an explicit awareness of each other’s strengths and ability to contribute to the whole. The context for this type

The Misunderstanding of Music-Technology Education

125

of work is complex and requires empathy, expertise in music, technology, and education. Of particular interest to this discussion is the reported final collective event. The weekly sections were structured so that all participant pupils would gradually build up their musical and technological expertise in order to perform, collectively, in an end-​of-​project music performance. The number of various technologies that were employed for the planned final performance was substantial. Depending on the kind and level of pupils’ special needs and abilities (including special assistive technologies that certain children always had either with them or mounted on their mobility chairs), the ICT armory comprised desktop computers, running a popular audio/​MIDI sequencing package (Steinberg Cubase);1 laptop computers, running live performance and composition-​specific software (Abbleton Live),2 as well as numerous virtual sample libraries and commercially available audio “loops”; numerous beam controllers, used as MIDI triggering devices by pupils with severe motor control difficulties (Soundbeam, MIDIcreator),3 a number of cake switches for triggering prerecorded sounds for the children who had speaking difficulties (BIGmack Switch);4 and a touch-​sensitive synthesized speech generator (Tobii assistive and augmentative communication device).5 Harnessing these technologies and ensuring that they all worked in tandem and without glitches was, reportedly, a complex task; especially because this highly advanced creative ICT studio had to be assembled afresh for each session. On top of these technical difficulties, this technological “hydra” had to be tamed by a group of young pupils who, besides their disabilities and special needs, often possessed enough energy and enthusiasm to increase the entropy of the music classroom to a substantial degree. Any kind of meaningful music-​making activity, and even the ability for the teacher’s voice to be heard above the combined noise-​floor was, at times, found to be difficult. However, among this highly technical array of devices was a meaningful, yet very simple technology (reinforcing Purves’s argument about “Intermediate Technologies” and their usefulness in a world of “big” technological solutions; see following chapter). The highly experienced and creative music teacher brought a small table lamp fitted with a red light bulb into the classroom. She explained that in “professional” recording studios but also in “professional” broadcasting studios for TV and radio, the moment the red light came on “everybody knew” that they had to be quiet because “they were live on tape” or “live on air.” Fascinatingly, this little technology became the music education session’s catalyst; the moment the young “light keeper” switched the table lamp on, prompting the teacher to announce, “Red light’s on!” the whole classroom was silent, focusing on their live, technology-​assisted music performance. The young “professionals” gave a moving final performance, celebrating Indian music. The ICT “hydra” was tamed successfully, under the glowing red light, as an example of how technology “tools” for music education need to be used with a clear pedagogical framework to achieve specific learning objectives.

126

Evangelos Himonides

Visualizations: Intent and Moral Practice Although “digital theory” is not the focus of this chapter, it is worth remembering briefly that such a thing as “digital sound” does not exist (see, among others, Himonides, 2008; Howard & Angus, 2001). Sound is an analogue phenomenon; disturbances in the air that reach our eardrums, stimulate them mechanically, and trigger a chain of mechanical-​electro-​chemical reactions (Gelfand, 2001). Digitally stored audio is nothing but digitally stored information “about” the recorded sound. This information “describes” what has been recorded, in order for us to be able to reproduce (as well as process, edit, manipulate, store, communicate) the recorded sound. The spectrogram is a known visualization (or representation) of sound. Any computer software that is capable of plotting spectrograms (or spectrographic displays) is, one way or another, processing digitally stored information about sound (i.e. what we commonly refer to as digital audio). A  spectrographic display is particularly useful because it provides information about three features of a recorded sound, in tandem: time, frequency, and intensity (i.e. the relative energy placed within a particular frequency band). On certain occasions, this visualization can provide additional information compared to another stereotypical visualization of recorded sound such as the waveform (see Purves, c­ hapter 9), in which only time and amplitude are plotted. Research in voice science (Sundberg, 1987; Titze, 2000), vocal pedagogy (Smith & Sataloff, 2006; Shewell, 2009; Callaghan & Wilson, 2010), vocal development (Welch, 2006; Tafuri, 2008), speech pathology (Ball, 1988), and vocal health (Ferrand, 2002), often employs spectrography in developing a clearer understanding of the vocal output. Computers now possess enough processing power to perform tasks such as plotting spectrograms in real time. This means that any vocal output (the sound coming from the singer’s lips) can be “visualized” in real time. In summary, the chain of “technologies” between the singer’s lips and the computer screen, where the live (animated/​moving) spectrogram is displayed, comprises a microphone (for capturing the live sound and converting it to electrical signal); a pre-​amplification section (for amplifying the weak signal that the microphone outputs and bringing it to “line level”); an analogue-​to-​digital converter on the computer soundcard or external audio interface (that samples the incoming analogue signal and converts it to a stream of digital information); a digital signal processing (DSP) section—​usually part of the computer’s integrated central processing unit, as administered by its operating system (where blocks of the sampled digital information are transformed into different classes of information, e.g., from the amplitude domain to the frequency domain using Fourier transformations); higher level programming code (where lower level objects are assembled and managed); and, finally, the compiled software tool and its user interface (with which we, as end-​users, interact). Being able to use displays like these in real-​time assumes that our computers are powerful

The Misunderstanding of Music-Technology Education

127

enough to cope with this whole sequence of events so fast that the elapsed time between reality (what comes out of the lips) and result (the accurate spectrographic display of the recorded reality as appearing in the software window) needs to be below the time thresholds for humans to “feel” synchronicity. Although the actual thresholds are still under debate and likely to vary across listeners (see Wessel & Wright, 2002; Henning & Gaskell, 1981), we are practically dealing with times under 10 milliseconds (one-​hundredth of a second), and this perceived synchronicity can be very helpful educationally without necessarily understanding the complexities of the technical process. VOXed was an exploratory research project that was conducted by two research teams from the University of York and University of London, respectively, in order to evaluate the usefulness, or otherwise, of real-​time visual feedback in the singing studio. The primary purpose of the work was not to optimize a particular technology for this application, but to work alongside teachers and students to study the impact of real-​time visual feedback technology use on participant students’ learning experiences. An action research methodology was used to explore the benefit of employing real-​time displays over an extended period. The experimental phase of the work was guided by a Liaison Panel of teachers and academics in the areas of singing, pedagogy, voice science, speech therapy, and linguistic science. Qualitative data were collected from eight students working with two professional singing teachers. The teachers and students acted as co-​researchers under the action research paradigm. Teachers and students alike kept journals of their teaching and learning experiences. Singing lessons were observed regularly by the research team, coded for teacher and student behaviors, and all co-​researchers were interviewed at the mid-​and endpoint of the project. The general outcome of the VOXed project, as evidenced through the collective dataset, was that the use of technology had a positive impact on the learning process (Welch et  al., 2005; Howard et  al., 2004; Howard et al., 2006). In relation to this discussion, two rather interesting exemplars can be offered, as drawn from the VOXed project experience. Interestingly, each related to the distinctive approaches that the two participant professional teachers employed and their unique identities, both as musicians and as pedagogues. Although the research methodology prescribed that both practitioners should use the innovative, real-​time technology with only half of their participant students, thus treating the remaining number of their students as “controls,” after the second session, one participant teacher felt that it would have been “morally wrong” not to use the software with all of his students. His personal view was that the use of real-​time visual feedback in his singing studio was so beneficial for his students (and also his own practice), that it would have been unfair for some of his students not to benefit from this new experience, even for the short span of the research project. The second exemplar relates to the other teacher’s innovative practice and directly challenges the scientist’s intent, the programmer’s objective, and, perhaps, the technology’s purpose. As described above, the spectrogram is a visual representation

128

Evangelos Himonides

of sound; what we hear is somehow translated into something that we see. For the second practitioner, a real-​time spectrographic display was something rather too complex to decipher, meaningfully, during the lesson delivery. According to her “there [was] too much information both vertically and horizontally running all over the screen.” In a moment of utter brilliance and inspiration this practitioner decided to use the spectrogram for what wasn’t there . . . she started paying attention to the visual gaps, the moments of silence. In assessing the width of those silent moments she could effortlessly monitor the student’s breathing behavior in singing a challenging J. S. Bach motet. She could point out on the screen the irregularities of the widths of those moments of no data to the student and help him perform the passage with a more uniform breathing behavior. This last exemplar celebrates the notion of employing a tool meaningfully, having critically assessed its potentials (and perhaps perceived limitations of either the tool itself, or the user), but also in relation to one’s practice, needs, and particular requirements, in order to enhance the learning experience and facilitate development. A spectrogram was used in this context creatively, outside the scope of what this technology was originally designed to do. Numerous similar examples exist in the field of musicology (e.g., jazz research), focused on recorded performance analyses (see among others Kiroff, 2001; Foote & Uchihashi, 2001).

Music Technology for Assessing Brilliance Derek Paravicini is a music savant, an extraordinary human being who has been featured in numerous documentaries, globally, and who possesses remarkable musical skills, both perceptual as well as performance skills on the keyboard. Derek, who at the time of writing is in his early thirties, was born premature, at 25 weeks, and weighing just over half a kilogram. As a result of the oxygen therapy required to save his life, Derek lost his sight, and his development was affected, too (Ockelford, 2007). It later became apparent that he had severe learning difficulties. However, he soon acquired a fascination for music and sound, and, by the age of four, had taught himself to play a large number of pieces on the piano, of some melodic and harmonic complexity (such as “Smoke Gets in your Eyes”). Almost inevitably, with no visual models to guide him, his technique was chaotic, and even his elbows would frequently be pressed into service, as he strove to reach intervals beyond the span of his tiny hands. At that time, his enormous potential was recognized by Adam Ockelford (see also Ockelford, this volume; Ockelford & Welch, this volume), then music teacher at Linden Lodge School for the Blind in London. In due course, weekly and then daily lessons were arranged, in an extensive program of tuition that was to last for several years. Painstakingly (through physical demonstration and imitation)

The Misunderstanding of Music-Technology Education

129

Derek acquired the foundations of technique that were necessary for him to move forward. His natural affinity for jazz, pop, and light music soon became evident, together with his improvisatory talents, ability to play in any key, and flair for performing in public. Derek possesses absolute pitch, an extremely rare ability (Sergeant & Vraka, 2014), which enables him to “recognize” single pitches almost instantaneously. Derek’s ability to provide a practically immediate response when identifying any musical sound (and even nonmusical ones, e.g., a moving train, or the “ting” on a glass) with perfect accuracy in terms of its musical pitch led a team of researchers, including this author, to try and assess this phenomenon in a more systematic way (see Ockelford, 2008). The research team had decided that such an investigation would have been ineffective if single notes where to be identified by reproduction at the keyboard; this was simply “too easy” for Derek. Thus, the team designed an experiment for the measurement of Derek’s ability to disaggregate chords (i.e., just how many simultaneous notes Derek would be able to perceive as distinct entities in a variety of harmonic contexts). The experiment used a “listen and play” protocol. Derek would have had to listen to and play back on a keyboard six sets of 20 chords, each set comprising four-​, five-​, six-​, seven-​, eight-​, and nine-​note chords, respectively. The chords ranged from simple diatonic harmonies to chords of the seventh, ninth, eleventh, and thirteenth with a range of chromatic inflexions [more complex, dissonant combinations]; to polytonal aggregates reminiscent, for example, of certain compounds used in Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring, and clusters of major and minor seconds, that to most people would appear to be little more than noise. (Ockelford, p. 218)

Ockelford (2008) reports that Derek, having had to respond to some 780 individual stimuli, achieved a mean accuracy score of 96.2% (overall accuracy in responding/​ playing back the correct notes). Derek’s response time varied between 300 and 450 milliseconds (less than half a second, from hearing a nondiatonic chord, comprising up to nine notes, to playing it back). What is perceived to be particularly interesting for this discussion, though, is the role of technology in assessing this gifted person’s musical skills, using tools that were likely to have been designed for a different purpose. The research team used a computer, a popular music notation package, a popular MIDI/​Audio sequencing software package, an electronic Keyboard/​Stage Piano, and a pair of powered studio monitors (speakers). A musician used a familiar metaphor (i.e., staff notation) in order to compose all musical chords comprising four, five, six, seven, eight, and nine notes. The stored sequence in the music notation software was then translated into MIDI code. The resultant MIDI file was consecutively imported as a unique “Track” inside the MIDI/​Audio sequencing software package, where the timing was rehearsed in order to fit the design of the experiment (chord duration, provision of response time, rest). The performance-​ready MIDI track was then used in order to “feed” a different track on the same piece of software, running a virtual

130

Evangelos Himonides

studio technology (VST) software sampler instrument. A sample library of a known Concert Grand Piano was then imported, and the virtual/​internal audio output from this virtual instrument was rendered into digital audio, thus resulting a digital audio computer file (i.e., a wave file, or.wav file; see also Purves, ­chapter 9). This file was the stimulus to which Derek would have to respond. For the experimental run, the track containing MIDI information was muted, so that Derek could only hear the “realistic” (using the expensive Grand Piano timbre) sounds. The digital keyboard that Derek was using had a built-​in MIDI OUT port (connected to the computer audio interface’s MIDI IN port), thus enabling the researchers to record all of Derek’s actions as meaningfully tagged information back onto the Audio/​ MIDI sequencing software. Upon the successful recording of all responses to the programmed stimuli, the researchers were able to use the captured information and analyze “what key(s) were pressed” and “exactly at what time they were pressed,” as well as “how fast these responses were” (lagging the actual stimulus occurrence). This chain of various technologies might appear to be highly complex and/​or confusing to some, or mainstream to others; the level of expertise is really of no importance for this discussion. What is rather interesting is that a set of technologies, some of which were perhaps designed primarily for music composition (notation software), music production (music sequencing software), musical performance (digital stage piano), critical music listening (the powered studio monitors), and hardware interconnectivity and communication (the MIDI protocol) were all employed and worked in synergy, in assisting research in human musical behavior, in augmenting knowledge, in supporting music education. This, too, could be offered as an exemplar of the “creative” use (or perhaps ‘abuse’?) of technology.

A Ribbon for Evaluating Beautiful Singing in Real Time Another example of the creative use of a particular music technology outside its original intended use is the Continuous Response Measurement Apparatus (CReMA). The CReMA is a set of technologies that have been calibrated to work together, initially for the purpose of recording listeners’ responses to music in real time, whilst also capturing listeners’ physiological responses to recorded stimuli (Himonides & Welch, 2005; Himonides, 2006, 2009, & 2017). The CReMA enables researchers to record, in synchronicity, listeners’ perceptual data (real-​ time rating) and respondents’ physiological data (e.g., galvanic skin response, temperature, heart rate variability). The idea for the incorporation of the former within the CReMA technology (the perceptual data recording instrument) was based on innovative work from researchers at Florida State University that resulted the development of the Continuous Response Digital Interface (CRDI) (Madsen & Prickett, 1987). This

The Misunderstanding of Music-Technology Education

131

device has been used extensively in music education and affective sciences research, and its potential to render systematic and valid data has been scrutinized at length (e.g., Capperella, 1989). What is of interest for this discussion is the origin and design-​purpose of the device that was used for the real-​time recording of respondents’ “ratings” as part of the CReMA. This particular hardware controller (aka R2M), available by the German manufacturer Doepfer, is a ribbon controller that generates control signals by moving a finger on the ribbon manual. The output signals are generated as Midi and CV/​Gate control voltages simultaneously. Consequently, R2M allows the control of both Midi and CV/​Gate based equipment (e.g., analog synthesizers or analog modular systems). The design of this controller is based on one of the first (for some, “the” first) electronic musical instruments, the Mixtur Trautonium, invented by the German composer and physicist Oskar Sala. Examples of the sound effects that could be produced using the Mixtur Trautonium can be heard in the soundtrack of Alfred Hitchcock’s movie The Birds (see fig. 8.4). This interface acts as an intuitive linear control system. In this way, a one-​to-​ one analogy to linear scoring (graded scales, Likert scales, and scoring continua) is provided in an attempt to retain more closely the “like–​dislike” n-​point scale linear domain. This novel technology has additional, innovative features. In addition to left-​right hand movement, the controller is able to capture real-​time pressure data—​ an aspect of the listening experience that is likely to be outside the listener’s conscious awareness.

Figure 8.4  A research participant using CReMA’s ribbon controller.

132

Evangelos Himonides

Technology that was designed for a particular purpose as an electronic musical instrument is able to serve as a device that is part of a greater research apparatus being used for recording listeners’ real-​time perceptual data. Somewhat paradoxically perhaps, a device that was initially designed to serve music performance is being used in this exemplar as a device that serves research in the affective sciences and music perception, findings of which are hoped to enhance our understanding about music performance and, therefore, have the potential to shape music education and, consequently, music performance.

Technology for Reinstating Vocal Identity It is quite common practice in the modern recording studio for the vocalist to perform/​record using headphones. This is somewhat vital when the recording is “layered” (multi-​tracked) so that the vocalist can hear the rest of the band/​orchestra at a desired volume and/​or balance. Producers and engineers also use this technique in order to “enhance” the feedback the performer is receiving when listening to their own voice during a recorded performance. In this way, it has been observed that the performer is helped to feel more comfortable and “secure” and, consequently, provide a better performance. Among other techniques used in such contexts are compression (i.e., dynamics processing); equalization (frequency manipulation); de-​essing (a combination of dynamics processing and particular frequency band manipulation in order to diminish the potential “harshness” of fricative consonants like the [s]‌or [∫] sounds, also known as sibilants); virtual reverberation and/​or other time-​based effects processing (e.g., delay and echo); harmonization (from simple chorus effects to complex real-​time enharmonization); and, finally, real-​time pitch correction (a ubiquitous—​in certain genres—​and somewhat controversial process of correcting a performer’s pitching, in real time, when the performer is not particularly skilled or able to maintain the desired pitch). F.  was a teacher who used to be a semiprofessional Western classical lieder and oratorio singer, often performing as a soloist. Her life’s journey took her away from music and singing when, over a period of several months, she lost her singing voice through illness and was unable to recover her former singing skill, despite consultations with various singing teachers and medical specialists over several years. Nevertheless, in her early forties at the time of consultation, she continued to search for a solution, not least because in her new career as a university lecturer, she found that her speaking voice was weak and tired easily. Having established through a series of medical tests and consultation with vocal health experts that no underlying pathology was evidenced, a research team at the Institute of Education, including this author, were approached by F. and asked

The Misunderstanding of Music-Technology Education

133

if they could help. This was seven years after the original onset of the singing voice dysfunction. A  number of technology-​ enhanced, singing-​ psychology-​ focused workshops followed, in order to investigate if it was possible for her to “rediscover” her lost voice (Welch, Himonides, & Rodger, 2006). The underlying principle that shaped these workshops was similar to what was described above concerning real-​ life studio recordings: the team aimed to “manipulate” the auditory feedback that F received during singing, using music technology. The research question was: Is it possible to address an underlying voice dysfunction through altered auditory feedback? At the time of the first session, she was only able to produce sung pitches of acceptable quality in a limited pitch range of approximately a fifth, with the voice disappearing completely (i.e., the sung sound stopping) above C5 (the octave above middle C). During the first two sessions, the researchers worked closely with F. in order to identify the underlying aetiology of the problem. Singing quality was slightly better in solfège exercises, but much worse when singing song lyrics. The trauma of her singing voice loss was compounded by F.’s own memories of herself as a successful younger performer singing particular pieces of music. Nevertheless, given previous research into the possibilities of behavior change through auditory feedback, the research team experimented with the possibility of disturbing the normal auditory feedback process by asking F. to perform the same musical passages both with and without the use of technology. The design required her to not hear her vocal output directly, but rather through a pair of headphones that were delivering a technology-​ manipulated version of her singing performance. F.’s singing was captured using a professional grade microphone, and the signal was then fed into an analogue audio mixing desk where, using a parametric equalizer (a device that permitted the alteration of frequency envelopes in an audio signal), the level of upper-​mid frequencies in F.’s singing voice was diminished. Past the equalizer section, F.’s singing voice was fed into a professional effects processing unit, adding a small amount of “ambience,” thus imitating a real performance hall. This modified sound was, finally, fed into F’s headphones so that she could hear the modified performance, in real time. She was asked to comment on the perceived auditory differences until she heard a sound from her voice that she liked and which sounded “normal” to her. Different passages were sung, both with and without the technology, and all of the exercises were recorded for future analyses. The results were extraordinary. Besides the fact that a panel of three experts subsequently was unanimous in identifying when F. was wearing the headphones, solely based on the quality of her singing, the powerful thing to observe was F.’s joy and sense of emotional closure. Using technology, she could finally hear what she wanted to hear in herself. Her singing voice was louder, appeared more confident in execution, had a much wider pitch range (at one point in the second session with technology-​enhanced feedback, the upper pitch reached C#6, i.e., top C#) and was more even in tone throughout the range. The effect of putting headphones on me to prevent me hearing the sound appeared to make quite a dramatic difference to the sound I was making. I had

134

Evangelos Himonides no idea of the sound. However, I could gauge from the looks of the others in the room that it was far more acceptable than I was used to hearing . . . I left the session feeling emotional, exhilarated, but mostly with a renewed hope that the voice would recover. (F., reflective commentary, February 28, 2006)

Over several sessions, the team worked to generate a “halo effect” whereby the ease of singing wearing the headphones was gradually transferred to the condition of not wearing headphones. F. commented: With the headphones on the feeling was one of ease and this time with the headphones off the ease [it] was still there and the sound was much more acceptable to me.” (F., reflective commentary, February 28, 2006)

Antennae Pointing to “Amusia” In a postgraduate research study, Anderson (2010) worked closely with a group of people who had been classified as “congenital amusics” using the Montreal Battery of Evaluation of Amusia (MBEA) (Peretz, Champod, & Hyde, 2003), in order to investigate whether systematic training and education—​in her own terms, “targeted interventions” (Anderson et al., 2010)—​could possibly improve the production accuracy of their singing or enhance their pitch perception skills. The main technology employed by the researcher in helping the participants visualize their vocal output was Sing and See (see also “Visualizations: Intent and Moral Practice,” above). An interesting example regarding the creative use of music technology in one of those practical sessions was the use of the Theremin. The Theremin is an early twentieth-​ century electronic musical instrument that generates sound in relation to the location of the user’s arms inside a notional three-​dimensional electromagnetic field that is generated by two antennae that are mounted perpendicular to each other on the device. One antenna (the horizontal) is responsible for the regulation of amplitude (volume) of the generated signal, and the other antenna (the vertical) is responsible for the regulation of frequency for the built-​in oscillator (what generates the actual sound). Certain configurations of this analogue synthesizer technology can produce results that are perceived as ethereal and “vocal-​like” (as, for example, in the opening ethereal female-​like sound in the title theme of the popular TV series Star Trek). Music educators that work with people with special educational needs might be familiar with contemporary offspring of the Theremin, such as the Soundbeam and MIDIcreator (see also “The ‘Unforeseen’ Effective Technology,” above). During one of the targeted interventions that Anderson facilitated, this author tested whether using a device like the Theremin could help the session attendees to engage in pitch-​ matching exercises, liberating them from the perceived “threat” of having to use their own voices in doing so; after all, the research participants were mature individuals who had spent the better part of their lives with the conviction that they were not

The Misunderstanding of Music-Technology Education

135

musical. Their interaction with the theremin was video-​taped. Although the group was small and this experiment did not form a conclusive study, it is worth mentioning that the recorded excitement was substantial. The participants were much more positive and less reluctant to produce sound by moving their arms, hands, and fingers, and, most important, they had uninhibited fun making sound; something that, unfortunately, they had become disassociated with using their own vocal instruments.

Sounds of Intent The Sounds of Intent project, (described in detail in Ockelford & Welch, this volume) concerns the exploration and mapping of musical engagement in children and young people with complex needs. The main output of this research project is a package of web-​based interactive technology, which practitioners can use to assess their pupils/​ clients, record their attainment and progress, and download appropriate curriculum materials. What is thought that the present discussion can benefit from is the critical realization and discourse about whether such technology can be seen as “music technology.” Is a technology that enables practitioners to understand musical development, augment pupils’ learning experiences, and provide research-​informed methods and guidance “a music technology”? This author firmly believes that it should be viewed as such—​thus celebrating a broader realization of “music technology” as any possible tool that enables us to become better musicians, or develop through music.

Sound Junction Similarly, SoundJunction is a free-​to-​use web-​based tool for “exploring, discovering and creating music.” It has been produced by the Associated Board of the Royal Schools of Music (ABRSM) in association with Atticmedia (see https://​fuse.education.vic.gov.au/​Resource/​L andingPage?ObjectId=4d5e764d-​2653-​4d77-​a3c3-​ d2b948d9feb7&SearchScope=Teacher) and designed for use primarily by young people. SoundJunction is an online resource that is conceived as an interactive, flexible, e-​learning tool for engaging in musical exploration, development, and creation and is supported by teacher packs for integration into the school curriculum. A research team, led by this author, was employed in order to provide a research-​based evaluation of the effectiveness of this resource (Himonides et  al., 2008). The researchers interrogated this effectiveness under the light of the Ten Holistic Principles of Effective Teaching and Learning of the Teaching and Learning Research Program (TLRP) (see Himonides, c­ hapter 7). SoundJunction was found to be a strong example of how technology enables an individual or group to access

136

Evangelos Himonides

and experience a much wider world of music, spanning time and place, as well as diverse musical genres and styles outside the immediate community—​an example of a glocal (“Think globally, act locally”) music learning opportunity. SoundJunction’s “learning trails” technology was found to be a particularly exciting feature having immense potential for constructive music education. Using this technology, users can navigate through particular “concepts” or maintain concept focus without risking being overwhelmed by the extensive available corpus of information. A creative music educator could use this technology in order to scaffold their students’ learning whilst giving freedom for exploration of relevant material.

Usability of Music for the Social Inclusion of Children This research project (UMSIC), funded by the European Community, is yet another example of the use of technology—​creatively, and outside its originally intended scope—​in supporting “through music” pupils who are at the risk of being marginalized. According to the project nomenclature: [the] project develops a system that opens interactive environments for children to communicate informally with their peers by using familiar modern technologies. With a special focus on child-​centered usability, intelligent musical engineering and carefully developed pedagogical design that is allied to structured learning material, UMSIC allows children both stand-​alone as well as networked operations with easy start up and impressive extensibility. (https://​ www.it.lut.fi/​project/​umsic/​, accessed December 2010)

In achieving the project’s aims and objectives, the research team designed and developed novel open-​source software6 that is able to run on specific mobile phones, enabling children to record, play back, and share their music with their friends, freed from language barriers, as the specialist software is automatically providing multi-​language support and accessibility. The UMSIC/​JamMo paradigm underscores the development of cultural identity and the fostering of well-​being and sense of social inclusion through music, using a somewhat “different” music technology, a modern telephone.

Raising the PianoBar Research in music performance practice has benefited greatly from MIDI technology (see also “Music Technology for Assessing Brilliance,” above). Especially in piano/​ keyboard performance research, the ability automatically to record a performer’s exact performance gestures into meaningfully coded data, instead of having to transcribe—​moment by moment—​audio recordings, is of immense benefit to

The Misunderstanding of Music-Technology Education

137

research. Using MIDI (MIDI Manufacturers Association, 2010), every stroke on the keyboard is automatically tagged in terms of time (when a key was pressed), MIDI note (which note/​key on the keyboard was played at that particular time), velocity (the speed of the pressed key, and, therefore, the intensity and/​or resultant volume), and after-​touch (a measure relating to the level of intensity applied to a key after it has been played and continues to be depressed). Therefore, a keyboard performance that has been recorded using the MIDI protocol can be translated into a meaningful data set that can be used for further musicological and computational analyses. But what happens in a real-​life professional performance context? What happens if we want to research professional performance practice during a public performance (if, for example, we would like to form a deeper understanding of the effects of performance anxiety, or even the possible micro-​variations between final rehearsal and final performance)? A small number of MIDI-​enabled grand piani exist, but it is rather unlikely for an established performer to allow those to be used in high-​profile performances. Music technology can, once more, be used creatively in facilitating such research, using a tool that was invented for different purposes. The PianoBar, developed by the late Bob Moog and Buchla Labs, is an innovative device that can be attached onto any acoustic piano and, using beam sensor technology, can detect the mechanical movement of the piano keys and translate those into meaningful MIDI information. This can be performed without physical contact with the acoustic piano, therefore enabling a performer to use their desired concert instrument whilst also enabling researchers to acquire valuable real-​life performance data at concert. This in turn can be fed back to the performer to enhance their awareness of critical features of their playing.

Two Musical Brains in Sync As echoed throughout this chapter, this penultimate example also presents the creative use of music technology outside its customary context. A research team, including this author, investigated whether activity in the brain appears to be similar (or not) between singers, when singing solo, with an instrumental accompaniment, and also as a duet. Besides the novel character of the investigation, this research also entailed a highly innovative experimental design (Parsons et al., 2009) in the sense that the coupled research participants’ (the duetters’) brains were subjected to functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) in synchronization, using two MRI scanners in neighboring laboratories. Through sets of mirrored and inverted video projection screens of musical notation (produced using a popular musical notation software), the participants performed the required tasks whilst being able to hear through their headphones their own voices, their fellow duetters’ voices, computer generated and performed musical stimuli, research-​related verbal instructions from the research team, but also instructions from the physicist in charge of the MRI scanner operation. At the same time, all of the above described audio “signals”

138

Evangelos Himonides

were recorded using a stand-​alone, multitrack digital recording device. This research experiment was facilitated by technology that one might find in a typical recording studio; in this context, though, this technology was used imaginatively in researching human creativity to understand whether human brain activity appears to be different when two human beings sing together, compared to singing alone or singing with an instrumental accompaniment. Ongoing analyses of the data sets suggest that the differences are clear.

Conclusion The very last exemplar regarding technology and music education is offered as an anecdote. Whilst presenting research findings at an international conference focusing on the singing voice and singing pedagogy (see also “Visualizations: Intent and Moral Practice,” above), this author, as part of a research team, was confronted by an established, elderly (and known to be “highly old-​fashioned’) pedagogue who felt that it was preposterous to use a side-​view video camera in the singing studio for monitoring the singer’s posture (whilst displaying this live view to the singer as real-​ time feedback). The passionate pedagogue appeared to have had reached his listening “thresholds” with “all those young researchers telling people what to do” and, presumably, disturbing the perfect equilibrium that was their teaching of singing. His argument was that he “did not need all that technological mumbo jumbo,” he had been doing that same thing using a long mirror for all his practising life. The pedagogue’s levels of infuriation subsequently led him to leave the auditorium when this author demonstrated that, by using a glass mirror, he truly was a cutting-​edge music technologist (see table 8.1). The timeline of the musicking humanity (see fig. 8.1) that was offered at the beginning of this chapter should not be seen as this author’s nihilistic view of the role of technology in music and music education. On the contrary, it should be regarded as a pragmatic portrayal of our trajectory, as inherently musical beings, through fascinating times of continual technological development. Furthermore, the real-​world research exemplars provided, it is hoped, have demonstrated that music technology is not (and should not) be perceived as a set of ephemeral tools whose use a music educator should master in order to survive in an utterly competitive, ever evolving, highly paced, and constantly demanding educational and living environment; an environment that demands a dichotomy between digital natives and digital immigrants (see also Savage, ­chapter 11). The fact that almost all recorded “technologies” that have been presented in the musicking humanity’s timeline form only a minuscule part of humanity’s musical life span supports an argument that our focus should always be on music. It would be frivolous to deny that we live in a time of rapid technological development. Surely, homo habilis had to experience music in a far less “technologically rich” environment than homo guitar hero. Technology has enabled us—​and is constantly enabling us

The Misunderstanding of Music-Technology Education

139

further—​to challenge the world, challenge certainties, increase awareness, shape attitudes, and foster communication. In addition, technology is not something that we can decide to become estranged from; it is part of our human condition. Some researchers might suggest that not only humans can use tools, but—​almost certainly—​only humans can be critical about the effective use of these tools. This needs to be celebrated, in harmony with our other basic human condition of being musical.

Reflective Questions





1. Having read the exemplars provided of creative use of music technology outside the mainstream, could you offer additional examples that you have found stimulating, either from your own experiences, or reported elsewhere? What are the direct implications for music education? 2. How important is “communication” in your everyday teaching and learning with ICT practice, and how does it manifest? 3. In light of what has been presented here, do you perceive yourself as being a “technological” or a “nontechnological” person/​practitioner? Why so? What would you say are the main characteristics/​attitudes of someone you know whom you would identify as the opposite of what you have identified yourself as being? 4. What would you hope to see in the future as “the” revolutionary technology for music education? 5. How would you assess, critically, the effectiveness of the technologies that you use for teaching and/​or learning?

ACKNOWLEDGMENT The title of this chapter is inspired by Graham F. Welch’s inaugural professorial lecture, “The Misunderstanding of Music” (Welch, 2001). I am ever so grateful for the wonderful opportunities that he has given me to be involved in “real-​world” research and be part of his extended family of “senior learners.”

KEY SOURCE King, A., & Himonides, E. (eds.). (2016). Music, technology and education: critical perspectives. New York: Routledge.

140

Evangelos Himonides

WEBSITES www.soundjunction.org International Music Education Research Centre. www.imerc.org Sounds of Intent. www.soundsofintent.org

NOTES 1. https://​www.steinberg.net/​en/​products/​cubase/​start.html 2. http://​www.ableton.com/​live-​8 [accessed November 24, 2017]. 3. http://​www.soundbeam.co.uk/​ [accessed November 24, 2017]; https://​www.experia-​ innovations.co.uk/​sensory-​products 4. http://​www.thesensorycompany.co.uk/​Catalog/​ProductDetails.aspx?productID=68 [accessed November 24, 2017]. 5. http://​www.tobii.com/​en/​assistive-​technology/​global/​products/​ [accessed November 24, 2017]. 6. JamMo (see: http://​jammo.garage.maemo.org

REFERENCES Anderson, S. (2010). Poor-​pitch singing: Perception or production. Singing, 59, 29–​32. Anderson, S., Himonides, E., Welch, G., & Stewart, L. (2010, August 6–​8). Can you teach those with congenital amusia to sing? A  study of the effects of targeted interventions on pitch perception and production of those with congenital amusia, as defined by the MBEA. Presentation at the Association of Teachers of Singing Summer Conference, University of Sussex. Arensburg, B., Tillier, A. M., Vandermeersch, B., Duday, H., Schepartz, L. A., & Rak, Y. (1989). A Middle Palaeolithic human hyoid bone. Nature, 338, 758–​760. Ball, M. J. (1988). The contribution of speech pathology to the development of phonetic description. In M. J. Ball (ed.), Theoretical linguistics and disordered language (pp. 168–​188). New York: Taylor & Francis. Callaghan, J., & Wilson, P. (2010). How to sing and see: Singing pedagogy in the digital era. Sydney: Cantare Systems Ltd. Capperella, D. A. (1989). Reliability of the continuous response digital interface for data collection in the study of auditory perception. Southeastern Journal of Music Education, 1, 19–​32. Conard, N., Malina, M., & Munzel, S. (2009). New flutes document the earliest musical tradition in southwestern Germany. Nature, 460(7256), 737–​740. Ferrand, C. T. (2002). Harmonics-​to-​noise ratio: An index of vocal aging. Journal of Voice, 16(4), 480–​487. Foote, J., & Uchihashi, S. (2001). The beat spectrum: A new approach to rhythm analysis. In 2001 IEEE International Conference on Multimedia and Expo (ICME ‘01) (pp. 881–​884). New Jersey: IEEE.

The Misunderstanding of Music-Technology Education

141

Gelfand, S. A. (ed.) (2001). Essentials of audiology. New York: Thieme. Henning, G. B., & Gaskell, H. (1981). Monaural phase sensitivity measured with Ronken’s paradigm. Journal of the Acoustical Society of America, 70(6), 1669–​1673. Himonides, E. (2006). The Continuous Response Measurement Apparatus (CReMA). In M. Baroni, A. R. Addessi, R. Caterina & M. Costa (eds), Proceedings of the 9th International Conference of Music Perception and Cognition (ICMPC) (p. 478). Bologna, Italy: Bologna University Press. Himonides, E. (2008). Voice recording equipment. In C. Shewell (ed.), Living sound: Voice work for voice practitioners (pp. 61–​63). London & New York: John Wiley and Sons. Himonides, E. (2009). Mapping a beautiful voice:  Theoretical considerations. Journal of Music, Technology and Education, 2(1), 25–​54. Himonides, E. (2017). Music Technology and Response Measurement. In A. King, E. Himonides, & A. Ruthmann (eds.), The Routledge companion to music, technology, and education. New York: Routledge. Himonides, E., Laurence, K., Purves, R., & Welch, G. (2008). SoundJunction:  A research-​ based evaluation. London: Institute of Education. Himonides, E., & Purves, R. (2010). The role of technology. In S. Hallam and A. Creech (eds.), Music education in the 21st century in the United Kingdom: Achievements, analysis and aspirations. London: Institute of Education. Himonides, E., & Welch, G. F. (2005). Building a bridge between aesthetics and acoustics with new technology: A proposed framework for recording emotional response to sung performance quality. Research Studies in Music Education, 24(1), 58–​73. Howard, D. M., & Angus, J. (2006). Acoustics and psychoacoustics (Music technology). (3rd ed.). Oxford: Focal Press. Howard, D. M., Brereton, J., Welch, G. F., Himonides, E., DeCosta, M., Williams, J. (2006). Are real-​time displays of benefit in the singing studio? An exploratory study. Journal of Voice, 21(1), 20–​34. Howard, D. M., Welch, G. F., Brereton, J., Himonides, E., Decosta, M., Williams, J., & Howard, A. W. (2004). WinSingad: A real-​time display for the singing studio. Logopedics Phoniatrics Vocology, 29(3), 135–​144. Kiroff, M. (2001). “Caseworks” as performed by Cecil Taylor and the art ensemble of Chicago: A musical analysis. Jazzforschung/​Jazz Research, 33(1), 9–​130. Madsen, C. K., & Prickett, C. A. (eds.) (1987). Applications of research in music behavior. Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press. MIDI Manufacturers Association. (2010). Tech specs & info. source: http://​www.midi.org/​ techspecs/​index.php, [accessed November 24, 2017]. Ockelford, A. (2007). In the key of genius:  The extraordinary life of Derek Paravicini. London: Hutchinson. Ockelford, A. (2008). Music for children and young people with complex needs. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Ockelford, A. (2018). Commentary:  Special Abilities, Special Needs. In G. E. McPherson and G. Welch (eds.), Special Needs, Community Music, and Adult Learning:  An Oxford Handbook of Music Education. (Vol 4). New York: Oxford University Press. Ockelford, A., & Welch, G. F. (2018). Mapping Musical Development in Learners with the Most Complex Needs: The Sounds of Intent Project. In G. E. McPherson and G. Welch (eds.), Special Needs, Community Music, and Adult Learning:  An Oxford Handbook of Music Education. (Vol 4). New York: Oxford University Press. Parsons, L. M., Himonides, E., Craig, N., Vakil, M., Turner, R., & Wilkinson, I. (2009). Simultaneous dual-​fMRI, sparse temporal scanning of human duetters at 1.5 and 3

142

Evangelos Himonides

Tesla. Proceedings 17th Scientific Meeting, International Society for Magnetic Resonance in Medicine (p. 3712). San Diego: ISMRM. Peretz, I., Champod, A. S., & Hyde, K. (2003). Varieties of musical disorders—​the Montreal battery of evaluation of amusia. Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences, 999, 58–​75. Ruse, M., & Travis, J. (eds.) (2009). Evolution:  The first four billion years. Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press. Sergeant, D., & Vraka, M. (2014). Pitch perception and absolute pitch in advanced performers. In I. Papageorgi & G. F. Welch (eds.), Advanced Musical Performance:  Investigations in Higher Education Learning (SEMPRE Studies in the Psychology of Music) (pp. 201–​229). Surrey, UK: Ashgate. Shewell, C. (2009). Voice work: Art and science in changing voices. New York: Wiley-​Blackwell. Smith, B., & Sataloff, R. (2006). Choral pedagogy (2nd ed.). San Diego: Plural Publishing Inc. Sundberg, J. (1987). The science of the singing voice. Dekalb: Northern Illinois University Press. Tafuri, J. (2008). Infant musicality: New research for educators and parents (SEMPRE Studies in the Psychology of Music). Surrey, UK: Ashgate. Thistlethwaite, N., & Webber, G. (eds.) (1999). The Cambridge companion to the organ. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Titze, I. R. (2000). Principles of voice production. Iowa City: National Center for Voice and Speech. Tsien, T. H. (1985). Paper and printing. Joseph Needham, science and civilisation in China, chemistry and chemical technology, 5(1). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Welch, G. F. (2001). The misunderstanding of music. London:  Institute of Education, University of London. Welch, G. F. (2006). Singing and vocal development. In G. McPherson (ed.), The child as musician: A handbook of musical development (pp. 311–​329). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Welch, G. F., Himonides, E., & Rodger, F. (2006, July 4). Neuropsychobiological feedback and singing rehabilitation:  Two case studies. Presentation to Florida State University graduates, London. Welch, G. F., Howard, D. M., Himonides, E., & Brereton, J. (2005). Real-​time feedback in the singing studio: An innovatory action-​research project using new voice technology. Music Education Research, 7(2), 225–​249. Welch, G. F., Purves, R., & Himonides, E. (2006). The Drake/​Youth Music “Plug It” Project: A research evaluation. London: Institute of Education, University of London. Wessel, D., & Wright, M. (2002). Problems and prospects for intimate musical control of computers. Computer Music Journal, 26(3), 11–​22. Youth Music (2011). Who we are. https://​www.youthmusic.org.uk

Chapter 9

TECHNOLOGY AND THE EDUCATOR Ross Purves

In this chapter I  wish to explore how the economist E.  F. Schumacher’s concept of “intermediate technology” might usefully be used to describe a range of small, low-​cost, and increasingly pervasive technological tools that feature in the contemporary everyday working lives of many music teachers. I want to suggest that it is through the gradual, evolutionary adoption of such intermediate technologies—​and not large-​scale, complex technological installations such as keyboard labs, recording studios, and computer sequencing suites—​that teachers are most likely to undergo powerful professional development experiences. In taking this approach, I draw up on a range of recent professional development theory and research. This collectively suggests that, in distinct contrast to the “transformative” and “revolutionary” educational reform and technological rhetoric of governments, equipment manufacturers, and suppliers, teachers are more likely to make small, incremental changes to improve long-​term teaching and learning practices. Specifically, in relation to information and communication technology (ICT) resources, I will explore a range of professional development literature that suggests music teachers are most likely to embrace such technologies when they align closely with their existing practice, beliefs, and teaching and learning objectives. I end with a case study of the freely available Audacity digital audio editor as an example of the kind of “intermediate” music technology under discussion.

144Ross Purves

The Educational Reform Agenda and ICT In the United Kingdom at least, much government educational rhetoric over the past 15  years or so has been couched in terms of “transformation,” “revolution,” “radical reform,” “modernization,” and “irreversible change.”1 As Michael Apple reminds us, powerful words and phrases such as these are most often carefully chosen for political impact: “The language of educational reform is always interesting. It consistently paints a picture that what is going on in schools now needs fixing, is outmoded, inefficient or simply ‘bad.’ Reforms will fix it. They will make things ‘better’ ” (Apple, 2008, p. 244). More often than not, the hopes of recent educational reformers have been pinned on the harnessing of emerging technologies to effect root and branch change within teaching and learning practices. With the United Kingdom in mind, one may think of various government funding programs promoting the concept of specialist school computer networks and information portals (termed “learning grids”) that began in 1997 (see Condie et al., 2007, for a summary of these). For instance, the stated aim of the last of these programs, the ICT in Schools Initiative, was “to help all children achieve their full potential by supporting every school to become a centre of excellence in the use of ICT for teaching and learning and for whole school improvement” (DfES, 2004; emphasis added). Over this same time period, music teachers (perhaps more so than colleagues in many other subject areas) have faced exhortations to re-​equip, re-​skill, and reconsider practice in the light of large-​scale technological developments, not only within education but also the wider creative and music industries. For instance, the websites and magazine advertisements of specialist music education equipment suppliers have often featured case studies of large-​scale technology installations in schools and colleges. Taking Apple’s lead, a cursory analysis of the language used in such case studies is revealing. Impressive pictures of “industry standard” recording studios and serried ranks of computers and music keyboards are often accompanied by grateful testimonials from teachers keen to report improved student achievement, behavior, and engagement in lessons. Moreover, as the following example quotations from these case studies demonstrate, such promotional materials often warn of the educational and professional peril that can result from not keeping up with the technological “Joneses”:2 The music department was identified as being heavily under-​resourced in technology and subsequently the subject had to be withdrawn. The use of technology within the music department had previously extended only to portable keyboards, and this had created some disaffection in pupils. Prior to installing this [music technology] suite, we faced difficulties in engaging and including some pupils in the subject.

Technology and the Educator

145

A whole industry of organizations, advisors, trainers, and publishers has now emerged to help guide music educators through the brave new world of pedagogical practice through the medium of sophisticated recording studios, keyboard “labs,” and computer sequencing suites. Perhaps as a result of these various educational, technological, and commercial agendas, one could be seduced into a perception that only the “latest and greatest” new technology resource will meet classroom needs (Frankel, 2004). As Litterst has put it, when we speak of using technology, many of us tend to restrict the conversation to technologies that are very new or those used by a minority of teachers. This is unfortunate because we often forget how powerful certain commonly used technologies can be. (2003, p. 82)

Fundamentally, then, there may be a danger that in a rush to adopt new technological “solutions” we may miss the fact that many music departments already possess a range of well-​used and well-​understood technological resources of varying age and condition, all of which will be embedded to some extent in the familiar ecology of the music classroom. As Mills and Murray remind us, “as long-​standing users of audio recordings in lessons, [music teachers] could perhaps be counted among the earliest users of ICT in education. There is no reason why even old gramophone records should not continue to be used” (2000, p. 153).

Teachers’ Professional Development and Use of Music Technology Taking Mills and Murray’s point one stage further, one may consider other contemporary music teaching practices that have proceeded from earlier technological innovations. For instance, within the United Kingdom, a series of fondly remembered creative reel-​ to-​ reel audio-​ tape recording and editing workshops were laid on for teachers in the 1960s and 1970s by the now long defunct “Schools Council.” As Pitts and Kwami (2002) note, there is an obvious lineage here to the digital sampling, sound processing, and manipulation techniques often used in composition projects in the UK music classrooms of today. These workshops were themselves inspired by the groundbreaking innovations of John Paynter and Peter Aston of the University of York, visionary music educators who clearly realized that with only a small amount of encouragement and know-​how, teachers could turn a familiar classroom workhorse into a powerful creative tool more usually associated with then contemporary experimental composers such as John Cage and Pierre Schaeffer: So many schools now have tape-​recorders that it’s reasonable to include this equipment among the “musical apparatus.” It would be a pity, though, if we restricted its use solely to preserving music we wanted to hear again. We can also

146Ross Purves use a tape-​recorder to make music. (Paynter & Aston, 1970, p. 134; emphasis in original)

Dack (1999) adopts a similar perspective with particular reference to university-​ level music education. In a compelling argument for the continuing inclusion of older hardware (including reel-​ to-​ reel tape recorders) alongside modern digital alternatives in undergraduate electro-​acoustic composition programs, Dack describes his approach as not attached stubbornly to a recently developed item of supposedly innovative software or hardware. Financial constraints prevent the constant purchase of new equipment, nor should we want to pander to the endless stream of manufacturers’ updated versions. Simply providing training in using the latest equipment is, surely, a short-​sighted practice for any university . . .. The equipment represents the means to an end and, therefore, should not be considered the object of study. (p. 4)

These examples are indicative of a fruitful tradition of music teachers of all levels gradually adopting, adapting, and augmenting available technology for carefully chosen creative and pedagogical ends. For Pitts and Kwami (2002), this tradition is itself part of a wider cultural phenomenon. They cite Middleton’s assertion that technology and musical technique, content and meaning generally develop together, dialectically. Each makes demands on the others, but at every stage there is an area “left over” from the constraints of the immediate relationship, pointing to “pre-​historical” residues or to unforeseen possibilities. (Middleton, 1990, p. 90)

The emerging picture of teaching and learning practice, subject and technological tools gradually evolving together, is, of course, in stark contrast to the wholesale “transformation” rhetoric of governments and commercial suppliers. Indeed, for those music teachers who are comfortable working within a subculture of negotiated, evolving professional development, the sudden imposition of pedagogical and technological change may be counterproductive. This was certainly the view taken by John (2005) following a wide-​ranging review of the teachers’ professional development and ICT literature and an accompanying primary research study. The inference drawn from this study is that the maintenance of underlying learning goals is not necessarily limiting but instead facilitates the blending of technology in a way that might eventually lead to greater transformation. Furthermore, it highlights the evolutionary and the exploratory aspects of the interaction between subjects and ICT where teachers maintain their professional control over the technology using their “pedagogic pragmatism” to decide when there is genuine resonance with subject philosophies. This idea of “continuous evolution” is in contrast to the “discontinuous processes” often put forward by many ICT advocates. Taking my cue from evolutionary theory, I would argue that the emphasis on more radical or discontinuous transformation of learning through ICT, where teachers are encouraged to put technology and innovation before their pedagogy, might result in poor long term integration. Instead, a continuous approach is advocated where technology and pedagogy evolve in a more seamless way. (p. 486)

Technology and the Educator

147

Drawing on Basil Bernstein’s notions of the “sacred” and the “profane” in the context of knowledge classification (Bernstein, 1971), John asserts that it is important for teachers to feel a strong sense of congruence between their traditional teaching and learning objectives and highly valued subject subculture (the “sacred”) and the novel ICT tools they are asked to adopt (potentially, at least, the “profane”). Hughes and Potter (2002) have explored barriers to teaching and learning innovation from the perspective of whole school improvement. Like John, they identify a need for teachers to be allowed to pursue innovation gradually, lamenting that “we live in the ‘instant age’ be it learning a language, losing weight or improving a school, there is an increasing desire to do it quickly” (p. 37). Moreover, they assert that a further key barrier is a suspicion amongst teachers that changes stemming from a particular innovation are being imposed upon them by external agencies (perhaps a further example of Bernstein’s “profane”). To be successful, a true sense of ownership is usually required: “Genuine, committed, sustained change is largely dependent upon individuals accepting the need for change, and this is more likely when they have been fully involved in the change process” (p. 25). Perhaps most importantly, however, Hughes and Potter argue that the fundamental barrier to effective pedagogical innovation is a fear of moving outside familiar working practices (perhaps a further example of Bernstein’s “sacred”) to embrace the new. Even when there is open recognition of the need for change, individuals rarely act upon this because it is hard to leave one’s personal “comfort zone”: “the person has been there and survived—​and knows what to expect” (p. 19). Often, this fear is due to a lack of confidence in one’s ability to pursue change through to the end of the process or, alternatively, a perception that one may lose control of the process and its outcomes. Of course, taken together, fears of sudden, imposed, dramatic, and long-​term change identified by John and Hughes and Potter are likely to impact negatively on even the most hardened and experienced educational professional. Moreover, as Hughes and Potter also make clear, once pedagogical innovations have been enacted, teachers may well feel under pressure to adopt them in all circumstances, even when professional acumen may suggest otherwise. In the case of schools that have made significant investments in music technology, teachers may well feel under pressure to make constant use of the new facilities to justify their provision. As Kassner has put it, “having spent so much money, do I dare not use the technology for a few lessons in order to teach with other resources?” (2000, p. 34; emphasis in original). As a potential solution to such concerns, Hughes and Potter present an alternative approach to school improvement and professional development that would seem to tackle many of the factors identified above. This approach, which has received considerable professional enthusiasm, at least in the United Kingdom, over the past decade (e.g., see Stoll & Temperley, 2009) has become known as “tweak to transform”: Teachers are more likely to be prepared to tweak—​make small alterations to their approach as opposed to making dramatic changes. Tweaking is more reassuring

148Ross Purves than transforming as it keeps teachers close to their current reality and only involves taking a small step out of their comfort zone. . . . Tweaking can create a sense of purpose and generate a momentum that can become irresistible. When people have taken the first step out of the comfort zone and survived, they are more likely to take the next step and continue the development process. . . . Tweaking demands a precision often lacking in improvement programs. In order to make significant adjustments, we have to be very specific and accurately identify which bits we need to tweak. . . . What are the practical strategies—​that will work within the constraints and context of the classroom—​that teachers can introduce into their teaching to enable the tweak to be made? (Hughes & Potter, 2002, p. 45)

Of course, starting from a position of the “known” and “comfortable” and working outward toward the “unknown” and “less comfortable” is nothing new in education, and the “tweak to transform” approach certainly resonates with the work of Vygotsky, Bruner, and Bloom, among others. However, perhaps what makes this approach particularly attractive within the context of the current discussion are its parallels with the kinds of negotiated, evolutionary change identified as effective by John and evidenced in earlier curricular innovations such as Paynter and Aston’s work with tape recorders in the 1960s and 1970s. In a contemporary educational climate dominated by the pursuit of rapid and dramatic change, “tweak to transform” offers a useful reminder that it is very difficult for music teachers to continually juggle the twin pressures of adapting to large-​scale technological developments whilst at the same time making sense of how such developments can best promote effective teaching and learning. Instead, it places considerable pedagogical value on taking specific, smaller scale—​and often already familiar—​technologies and exploring their classroom potential within an evolving, negotiated framework. One does not have to look far to see that many music teachers in the United Kingdom and North America have adopted this approach implicitly when integrating technology into practice. A cursory review of the professional literature on both sides of the Atlantic finds many effusive articles in which practicing music teachers evangelize the power of certain carefully chosen, smaller scale technologies in the classroom (e.g., see Frey et al., 2000). Many of these articles are concerned with the meeting of perceived technological challenges due to resource limitations, for instance, whole-​class activities with one computer (e.g., Frankel, 2004; Studer, 2005). Others start with a pedagogical challenge and, more often than not, counter this through the careful and planned adoption of one or more relatively simple technological “tweaks” that subsequently transform practice (e.g., Burns, 2006b; Mercer, 2008). What is conveyed in the majority of such testimonial articles is a profound sense of professional empowerment stemming from identifying and exploiting the teaching and learning potential of such tools. A further striking finding is that the technologies being described might, albeit uncharitably, be regarded as rather “mundane” when compared with the large-​scale technological solutions promoted by manufacturers and suppliers. In many cases, they replace or augment existing, more familiar tools (e.g., a portable digital audio

Technology and the Educator

149

recorder might replace a portable cassette recorder). In others, inherent limitations are attractive in their own right as a means of framing musical expression and learning in a highly focused way. Such uses are perhaps reminiscent of what contemporary music researchers Bowers and Archer have termed “infra-​instruments,” that is, intentionally restricted musical “instruments” or computer interfaces that “engender simple musics with scarce opportunity for conventional virtuosity” (Bowers & Archer, 2005, p. 5). For Bowers and Archer, part of the attraction of such limited tools is that they are “concerned with supporting a more mundane, prosaic yet honest practice. It is a virtuosity of restricted technique, or bricolage, if you will” (p.  10). Overall, within the professional literature explored in the preparation of this chapter, there is a strong sense of congruence between technological tool and pedagogy. In line with John’s (2005) assertions explored above, the technology is far more likely to become embedded into the everyday working practice of the teacher and provide an effective platform for further innovation. In the remainder of this chapter, I want to put forward the idea that it is in the adoption, adaption, and augmentation of such “small tools” into the everyday practice of music teachers that is likely to have a powerful impact on teachers’ professional practice in the long term. In doing so, I draw on E. F. Schumacher’s concept of “intermediate technology” as it might be applied to a range of technologies that have the potential to transform practice.

Intermediate Technology and Music Education Schumacher initially used the term “intermediate technology” to describe agricultural tools that were “vastly superior to the primitive technology of bygone ages but at the same time much simpler, cheaper and freer than the super-​technology of the rich” (Schumacher, 1973, pp. 153–​154). Schumacher’s primary concerns were with the needs of developing, rural societies, but others working alongside soon realized that the concept of “intermediate technology” potentially had a much wider applicability: Experience shows that whenever efficient, small-​scale equipment is made available the demand for it does not come merely from the Third World, but even more insistently from the affluent societies as well. Smallness is a conditio sine quanon for rural development, but it is also highly relevant from many other points of view—​ecological, resource-​wise, and social. (George McRobie, director, Intermediate Technology Development Group, quoted in Geiger, 1975, p. 4; emphasis in original)

Schumacher’s ideas have influenced a number of educators over the years to propose “intermediate technology” solutions to educational resourcing limitations.

150Ross Purves For instance, Kissane (2000) argued that handheld graphics calculators offered an affordable, portable, and robust alternative to the computer-​based mathematical modeling software available at the turn of the millennium. Mauri Collins has drawn heavily from Schumacher in her advocacy of “minimalist technology” within the rapidly proliferating field of distance learning. Here there are particular challenges to ensure that students overcome technological challenges and can access course materials on equal terms (Collins & Berge, 1994). Collins defines “minimalist technology” as “the unapologetic use of minimum levels of technology, carefully chosen with precise attention to their advantages and limitations, in support of well-​ defined instructional objectives” (2001, p. 7). For Collins, minimalist educational technologies are “inclusive, robust, low cognitive load, inexpensive, ubiquitous, asynchronous [and] transparent” (p. 8). Some distance-​learning educators, such as Fillip (2003), have gone on to employ Schumacher’s and Collins’s ideas to courses aimed at those in developing countries. Others, such as those delivering Carnegie Mellon’s distance learning history course, have been swayed away from sophisticated “managed learning environments” even when such technology was readily available: Applying Schumacher’s guidelines, we looked for a solution that did not require either teacher or student to learn a new technology, posed little need for technical support, avoided dependence on course-​specific software (hence avoiding course-​specific bugs), and cost little or nothing to implement. We chose e-​mail. (Longhurst & Sandage, 2004, p. 72; emphasis added)

Of course, within the contemporary field of music education, defining the scope of “intermediate technology” may turn out to be as much a philosophical task as a technical one. After all, would not Schumacher, whose day-​to-​day work in the 1960s and 1970s with the Intermediate Technology Development Group (ITDG) was more usually concerned with perfecting improved agricultural and forging tools, be surprised to learn of the application of this term to computer technology? However, as Mattar points out in a useful reappraisal of Mauri Collins’s ideas, “in 1994, students were different than today, so minimal technology is different than minimal technology fifteen years ago. Besides that, what is minimal for a digital immigrant might also be significantly different from what is minimal for a digital native” (Mattar, 2009, p. 7). Most practitioners working in more technologically developed societies (if, alas, not yet universally) are benefiting from cheaper and more powerful digital electronics, and there are increasingly few music technology resources that do not rely on computers or other microprocessor-​based devices in some way. As a result, perhaps we may now make new distinctions along Schumacher’s original lines that are more appropriate for the digital era in general and the world of music education in particular. For example, on the one hand, one could view wholesale, commercial technology installations such as digital recording studio facilities, networked keyboard “labs,” and computer-​based “virtual studio technology” as a modern manifestation of Schumacher’s “supertechnology” concept. On the other hand, we might identify a range of smaller technologies, such as USB memory “sticks,” cheap

Technology and the Educator

151

microphones, mobile/​cellular telephones, handheld audio recorders, mp3 players, MIDI files,3 CD recorders, free or low-​cost software which have the potential to be “simpler, cheaper and freer,” to use Schumacher’s terms. Within this context, it is important to note that “simpler” does not equate with “less advanced,” and there should be no sense that educators adopting the “intermediate technology” philosophy are in some way unable to “cope” with more complex tools. To draw a parallel example from the world of computer programming, those who have worked with UNIX-​based computer operating systems (e.g., the many versions of Linux now available) will be familiar with the phrase “small is beautiful” (itself, perhaps, a nod to the title of the famous book written by Schumacher in 1973). The UNIX computing philosophy is based around collections of very small computer programs, each of which is designed to accomplish one thing well. These programs are then combined together like building blocks, providing immensely powerful leverage in the accomplishment of complex tasks. Writing specifically on the philosophical implications of this approach to computing, Gancarz (1995) argues that “small things have tremendous advantages over their larger counterparts. Among these is the ability to combine with other small things in unique and useful ways” (p. 4). We may quickly think of how such simple tools are combined to create powerful educational “leverage” every day in music classrooms in many parts of the world. For instance, one may download a copyright-​free MIDI file from the web, save it onto a USB memory stick (even, perhaps, a floppy disk, since this technology remains pervasive) and play it back on a classroom keyboard or electric piano to provide an instant accompaniment for a singing activity. In this example, whilst the computer system and keyboard are still inherently necessary to the exercise, it is the free MIDI file and very low-​cost memory stick that provide the leverage to complete the task. In this sense, these small technological tools are what George Litterst has termed “horseshoe nails.”

Tweaking with Horseshoe Nails Taking his inspiration from the well-​known children’s rhyme that begins “For want of a nail the shoe was lost” and ends “For want of a battle the kingdom was lost. And all for the want of a horseshoe nail,” Litterst (2002) reflects that it is often the smallest technical aspects that make or break an application of music technology in the classroom: Making effective use of technology in one’s teaching often involves overcoming one or more significant and obvious hurdles. Many times, though, a school or a teacher will overcome the biggest challenges and still not reach the point where the technology is serving them or their students very well. In these cases, it is a good idea to look for the missing “horseshoe nail.” (p. 64)

152Ross Purves In many senses, then, Litterst’s “horseshoe nail” offers a technological precursor to Hughes and Potter’s “tweak to transform” approach. To mix the metaphors of Litterst and Hughes and Potter for a moment, it may well be that a certain small technological tool will turn out to be the missing “horseshoe nail” that facilitates a teaching and learning “tweak.” In turn, this tweak, along with the professional innovations it affords, may bring about further significant pedagogical leverage for the long term. I want to argue that these horseshoe nail solutions will very often employ—​albeit perhaps implicitly—​small technological tools. Moreover, these may well be tools that advocates of intermediate technology may recognize. Schumacher made the distinction between “mass production” and “production by the masses” (Grimshaw, 2004). He argued that it was the latter that naturally fostered intermediate technology solutions: The technology of production by the masses, making use of the best of modern knowledge and experience is conducive to decentralization, compatible with the laws of ecology, gentle in its use of scarce resources, and designed to serve the human person instead of making him the servant of machines. (Schumacher, 1973:127, quoted in Grimshaw, 2004, p. 17)

As I hope to demonstrate in the final section of this chapter, many of the technological “horseshoe nail” solutions that music teachers find to everyday professional challenges would be consistent with Schumacher’s description of intermediate technology as “production by the masses.” After all, they are indeed the work of the “masses” of music teachers around the world as they grapple with busy timetables and heterogeneous teaching resources and materials. They are individualized, bespoke responses to problems and opportunities faced within particular professional subcultures and working conditions and are thus inherently “decentralized.” Nonetheless, they are often founded on the best of modern knowledge and experience, in both technological and pedagogical senses, since they draw extensively on existing best practice and professional wisdom. Furthermore, with the falling costs of digital electronics or—​as in the case of open source software (see below)—​the absence of cost, they can often make use of cutting-​edge technology. As a result, they are potentially cheap and, by adopting, adapting, and augmenting existing resources, they can often also be ecologically sensitive as well. In all of these factors, the application of intermediate technology within the context of music education stands in stark contrast to the national educational reform programs of governments and the large-​scale, technologically complex music technology installations often promoted by equipment manufacturers and suppliers. These tend to be characterized by a top down, centralized model of implementation that, as we have seen above, can be counterproductive. In the final section of this chapter, I offer the “open source” software Audacity as an example of an intermediate technology already very well embedded in the professional lives of many music educators around the world.

Technology and the Educator

153

Audacity: An Intermediate Technology Case Study Audacity began life in 1999 as specialist software for a university research project (Oetzmann & Mazzoni, 2005). It has since evolved into a powerful sound recording and editing program,4 and versions now exist for computers running Microsoft Windows, Apple’s OS X, and many UNIX-​based computer operating systems, including Linux (see fig. 9.1). Moreover, the interface has been translated into at least 45 languages. Audacity is released freely under the terms of the GNU Public License (FSF, 2007)  and is one of a number of “open source” music technology software packages that are increasingly finding their way into educational environments (see Moore & Moore, 2008, for a representative summary). The open source software development and distribution licensing model allows any user to obtain, use, and—​if they so wish—​alter, enhance, or personalize a program without financial cost or intellectual property infringement. Collectively, Audacity’s licensing model, multilingual and multioperating system support have ensured that it is now one of the most popular open source software titles in existence. In fact, figures from the website which hosts Audacity’s online presence,

Figure 9.1  Audacity Software running on the Linux operating system. (Source: http://​ commons.wikimedia.org/​wiki/​File:AudacityScreenshotLinux.png).

154Ross Purves indicate that it has been downloaded in excess of 66  million times (sourceforge. net, 2010). As a preeminent open source software product, some commentators would now consider Audacity an example of intermediate technology along Schumacher’s original guidelines (Grimshaw, 2004). In fact, Schumacher’s requirements that intermediate technology be “cheaper” and “freer” than so-​called supertechnology are met as a natural consequent of the open source model. In this context, the term “free” does refers not only to the absence of financial cost but also to the presence of intellectual freedom. As DiBona et al. explain, “English handles the distinction here poorly, but it is the distinction between gratis and liberty, as in ‘Free as in speech, not as in beer’ ” (1999, p. 3).Audacity’s rapid maturation from a specialist research utility to a fully featured, trusted, and popular package has been largely due to its open source status. Many users with programming skills have contributed to the program’s development over the years. In fact, one estimate suggests that the current version would have taken a single programmer around 35  years and almost $2  million to produce if starting from scratch (Geeknet, 2010), a striking example of Schumacher’s “production by the masses” philosophy if ever there was one. However, for the purposes of the present article, it is important to go beyond Audacity’s inherent claim to be an example of intermediate technology and explore its specific role as intermediate music technology within the context of the technological and pedagogical themes explored in this chapter. Unlike many commercial digital audio workstation packages that combine a variety of MIDI, audio and, in some cases, video processing capabilities, Audacity is focused mainly on the editing and processing of mono, stereo, and multitrack digital audio files. As a result, it places comparatively low processing demands on computer hardware and can run on older hardware and operating systems (a strength that is particularly attractive to music teachers working with limited, older resources, e.g., see Sichivista, 2007). Whilst its functionality in these areas is extensive and impressive, it retains a simple, uncluttered user interface that will be familiar to anyone who has used any graphically oriented audio software in the past 20 years. Audacity’s multi-​operating-​system support, open source status, low processing requirements, and ease of use also ensure that it is equally appropriate for school students to use at home (Sichivista, 2007). In fact, as Mercer puts it, “this unprecedented accessibility makes working with audio within the reach of anyone with access to a personal computer” (2008, p. 52). Music educators have been quick to identify the potential of Audacity, and those delivering resources for courses of initial teacher education and professional development have recommended its use for some time (see, for example, Hubmayer, 2005; Watson, 2006; Mackrill, 2009; TEHNE, 2009). In addition, the professional music education literature contains many interesting testimonials, case studies, and tutorials on how Audacity might usefully be integrated into existing professional practice. A common theme of many of these articles is Audacity’s use as a “horseshoe nail” solution for a variety of classroom projects. For instance, it has often

Technology and the Educator

155

been used by teachers to provide the audio recording and editing functionality in class “podcasting” activities (e.g., Jones, 2007; Kirkman, 2008; Kerstetter, 2009), effectively linking microphone, computer, internet podcast service, and mp3 player together. In a similar example, Audacity played an important role in a project enabling high school music students to send class composition recordings to their mobile phones for playback and review outside school (Baxter, 2007). Here, students took stereo WAVE files,5 produced on the sophisticated composition and production package Reason, and used Audacity to convert them to compressed mp3 files, thus enabling storage on limited-​capacity mobile/​cellular phone memory cards. The ease with which Audacity can function as a recording tool means it can be used within lessons to document student performances for assessment and subsequent public dissemination, two very common professional requirements for music teachers (Burns, 2006a, 2006b). In themselves, tasks such as recording, editing, and processing audio files may appear mundane and yet they present exactly the kind of technological obstacles that can effectively arrest a promising pedagogical innovation in the absence of low-​cost, pervasive solutions. Nonetheless, building on the professional development models explored earlier in this chapter, one might expect to find some teachers beginning to employ Audacity not solely as a “horseshoe nail” solution but as the foundation of more reflective, deep-​rooted pedagogical innovations. After all, following Hughes and Potter’s approach, tweaks should lead to transformation, and just over a decade on from Audacity’s first appearance, evidence is emerging from academic and professional literature that this may indeed be the case. At least two action research studies have explored using Audacity to develop aural and critical listening skills. Hammond and Davis (2005) employed the package as part of a suite of software intended to promote subject-​specific vocabulary and composition skills amongst male high school students at risk of underachieving. Audacity was used by the students to record their own samples and to apply a range of effects-​processing techniques (e.g., delay, echo, reverb, pan, crossfade, etc.) identified in commercial recordings of popular music. The researchers concluded: The immediacy of the software and the ability of students to deal with creative issues verbally and practically is one exciting outcome which has emerged from this project and the opportunity for students to take creative control of their work is very strong. (Hammond & Davis, 2005, p. 7)

Building on Audacity’s reputation as an appropriate tool for podcasting, Mota and Coutinho (2009) developed an innovative classroom activity in which Portuguese sixth-​grade music students responded musically to tasks presented by their teacher via a podcast. Audacity was used as a flexible medium for creating these musical responses, which were then posted back online for further discussion and review. The researchers concluded that this duplex communications medium fostered a powerful constructivist learning environment and argued for the potential of Web 2.0 technologies (i.e., tools that allow users to create their own web content) to lead to pedagogical innovations. In this, they share the view of Brown, who predicts

156Ross Purves “social Web applications where drafts of work can be posted for peer and staff review, and changes are tracked or logged such that learning style, as well as content, can be discussed” (Brown, 2007, p. 313). Other educators have suggested Audacity as an accessible software tool to encourage children to use their voices creatively and confidently in composition and performance activities (e.g., Bunce, 2005; Sichivista, 2007). Here, the effects processing, layering of sounds, and editing facilities available are seen as providing a safe environment for students to experiment and gain confidence to sing confidently and creatively. In the process, it is hoped that they may begin to lose inhibitions about their voices and performing in front of peers. For Sichivista, Audacity provided a means of playing back prepared accompaniments featuring vocal “calls,” whilst simultaneously recording students’ improvised vocal “responses.” Audacity was deemed an appropriate tool since it allows students to “experiment with their voices, make mistakes, and try again without being judged by other students or the teacher” (Sichivista, 2007, p. 50). At the time of writing, however, it is perhaps in the ongoing work of Antony Hubmayer (see, for example, Hubmayer, 2005, 2009)  that one may perhaps find the most pedagogically developed model of classroom activities involving Audacity. Hubmayer has designed a series of tutorial-​style activities which “provide a context as well as a ‘scaffold’ that encourages further student exploration and creativity within an authentic context, using authentic tools, and achieving authentic products or outcomes” (2005, p.  301). Taking a constructivist perspective, Hubmayer’s activities are built around five stages of learning: experimentation, modification, deconstruction, construction, and application (Hubmayer, 2009). Each of these is closely aligned to the specific functionality of Audacity in the hope that students will engage naturally with advanced musical concepts as they learn the software. For Hubmayer, the combination of Audacity’s free, accessible status and capability to produce “sophisticated and professional results” makes the software “a “must have” for all primary and secondary school music programs” (p. 301).

Conclusion Pedagogical case studies such those presented by Sichivista (2007) and Hubmayer (2005, 2009)  offer examples of educators developing teaching and learning innovations in response to the prevalence of a low-​cost, user-​friendly, and computationally “lightweight” intermediate technology in the music classroom. Neatly summing up the teaching and learning possibilities as they pertain to Audacity, Mercer comments: Integrating the use of audio recording into our music programs can help to create a rich, learner-​centered environment for our students. Innovative software tools

Technology and the Educator

157

such as Audacity and low-​cost hardware [are] helping to remove barriers that have kept us from taking advantage of this not-​so-​new, but very exciting medium. (Mercer, 2008, p. 53)

However, the arguments for adopting intermediate technology go beyond the technical and financial. As examples of what Schumacher termed “production by the masses,” the bespoke adoption, adaptation, and augmentation of small technological tools by teachers is far more consistent with the gradual evolution of subject pedagogy as outlined by John (2005) and Hughes and Potter (2002). Interestingly, Sichivista recalls having been initially recommended Audacity as a tool for helping to develop students’ singing confidence by a colleague. Perhaps, as a tiny piece of shared practice wisdom, this comment is a small yet significant example of John’s assertion that “sacred” subject subculture should be congruent with technology introduced into the classroom. At the same time, the classroom activities presented by Hubmayer are consistent with Middleton’s (1990) view that musical culture and technology evolve together. At least part of the attraction of using Audacity for Hubmayer appears to be that it offers a low-​cost, accessible means of exploring authentic, contemporary popular music production techniques (Hubmayer, 2009). In a perceptive conclusion to a very wide-​ranging survey of the use of computers within music education, Brown (2007) offers a series of insightful predictions on future technological developments in the field. The general thrust of these predictions is that music technology will continue to get more powerful whilst at the same time becoming smaller, more pervasive, and often cheaper:  “The resulting ubiquity of computing tools will shift discussions about the uses of computers in music education toward a focus on how best to use them, rather than whether or not to use them” (Brown, 2007, p. 312). Music educators, Brown (2007) goes on, “will need to continue to balance the embracing of these new practices as they emerge while letting go of other outmoded ones” (p. 312). While one would agree entirely with Brown’s technological and professional predictions for the music education of the future, it is important to point out that music educators have the ability to shape this future themselves, both in terms of the pedagogies they adopt and the tools they employ. They are not bound to accept the large-​scale, wholesale, technological “solutions” that may be promoted by governments, equipment manufacturers, and other commercial interests. Neither are they bound to accept the pedagogical implications of these solutions. Instead, they may continue to follow a venerable tradition in music education of evolving subject knowledge, teaching tools, and pedagogical wisdom together over time. Moreover, a world of ever-​shrinking, cheaper technologies may be highly conducive to the adoption of intermediate technologies in line with Schumacher’s philosophies. If so, music teachers will benefit more than ever from retaining this independent-​minded tradition, which will see them continuing to develop ingenious, personalized, and pragmatic technological responses to the everyday challenges of their role.

158Ross Purves

Reflective Questions



1. To what extent do you make active, personalized decisions regarding the use of technology in your teaching? To what extent is this usage influenced by political, environmental, commercial, or other “external” factors? 2. Conduct an audit of the technology used in your teaching. How much of it might be described as “intermediate technology”? How much might be described as “supertechnology”? Which is more fundamental to your everyday teaching practice? 3. How often do you get the opportunity to reflect deeply on your use of technology in your teaching? How might you seek out such opportunities? 4. How do you tend to respond to technological change in your professional practice?

ACKNOWLEDGMENT I would like to thank the following individuals for their valuable assistance in the writing of this chapter:  Mel Coyle, Mauri Collins, Andy Greaves, Clare Hewitt, Evangelos Himonides, and Antony Hubmayer.

WEBSITES http://​audacity.sourceforge.net/​.Homepage of the Audacity project. http://​practicalaction.org/​.Homepage of the Intermediate Technology Development Group. http://​qatest.informit.com.au/​documentSummary;dn=813459032966741;res=IELHSS;subje ct=Education. Homepage of Antony Hubmayer, featuring Audacity teaching resources.

NOTES 1. Such terms were prominent in a cursory concordance of 97 education-​themed speeches, interview transcripts, and policy statements dated between 1997 and 2007, retrieved from the archive of the UK prime minister’s website, https://​ www.gov.uk/​government/​organisations/​prime-​ministers-​office-​10-​downing-​ street on December 30, 2009. 2. The websites of two well-​known UK music technology suppliers were consulted in detail for the purposes of researching this article on December 30, 2009. 3. The MIDI (Musical Instrument Digital Interface) file is a nonproprietary computer file format that allows users to transfer musical data between computer sequencing

Technology and the Educator

159

software, electronic keyboards, and a variety of other music technology hardware and software. 4. Oetzmann & Mazzoni (2005, see references) provides a comprehensive overview of the technology facilities offered by Audacity. 5. Often also referred to as “WAV” files, after their conventional file extension name.

REFERENCES Apple, M. W. (2008). Can schooling contribute to a more just society? Education, Citizenship and Social Justice, 3(3), 239–​261. Baxter, A. (2007). The mobile phone and class music: A teacher’s perspective. In J. Finney & P. Burnard (eds.), Music education with digital technology (pp. 52–​62). London: Continuum. Bernstein, B. (1971). On the classification and framing of knowledge. In M. F. D. Yound (ed.), Knowledge and control. London: Macmillan. p. 47–​51 Bowers, J., & Archer, P. (2005). Not hyper, not meta, not cyber but infra-​instruments. In Proceedings of the 2005 International Conference on New Interfaces for Musical Expression (NIME-​05). Vancouver, Canada: 5–​10. Brown, A. R. (2007). Computers in music education. Brisbane: Routledge. Bunce, G. (2005). Information communication technology in performing and composing at key stages 3 & 4. http://​www.guybunce.co.uk/​writings/​academic/​ICT-​and-​music-​KS3.pdf [accessed January 1, 2010]. Burns, A. (2006a, October 26). Technology motivates and facilitates optimal learning for music students in grades prekindergarten through five. SoundTree Newsletter. http://​ web.mac.com/​awillisburns/​Amy_​M._​Burns/​ Amy_​ M ._​ Burns_​ f iles/​ Technology%20 Motivates%20-​%20Pre%20K%20-​%205.pdf [accessed January 1, 2010]. Burns, A. (2006b). Integrating technology into your elementary music classroom. General Music Today, 20(1), 6–​10. Collins, M. P. (2001). Small is still beautiful: Technological minimalism for the 21st century. Paper presented at the Cooperative Systems: The 7th annual meeting of the IuK Initiative Information and Communication of the Learned Societies in Germany, Trier, Germany. http://​www.zpid.de/​iuk2001/​program/​talks/​Collins.ppt [accessed November 24, 2017]. Collins, M. P., & Berge, Z. L. (1994, September 29, 30, and October 1). Guiding design principles for interactive teleconferencing. Paper presented at Pathways to Change:  New Directions for Distance Education and Training Conference, University of Maine, Augusta. Condie, R., Munro, B., Seagraves, L., & Kenesson, S. (2007). The impact of ICT in schools: A landscape review (No. 01/​DD06–​07/​145/​PC/​2k). Strathclyde: Quality in Education Centre, University of Strathclyde/​BECTA. Dack, J. (1999, September). Can the analogue past inform the digital present? Paper presented at the Association for Learning Technology Conference, Bristol University. DfES. (2004). ICT in Schools. http://​webarchive.nationalarchives.gov.uk/​20040913082609/​ dfes.gov.uk/​ictinschools/​ [accessed November 24, 2017]. Fillip, B. (2003). Technological minimalism and sustainability strategies:  Lessons learned from teaching online. In E. Wang (ed.), Enhancing sustainability and effectivity of training and education by online learning, October 22–​23, 2002 (pp. 37–​45). Eschborn:  Deutsche Gesellschaft für Technische Zusammenarbeit.

160Ross Purves Frankel, J. (2004). The one computer classroom. Music Education Technology, 2, 10–​14. Frey, S., Tully, J., Kulp, K., & Mayer, J. G. (2000). Members speak out: Have any computer-​or web-​based music education literature, games or teaching tools changed or helped the way you teach? Teaching Music, 7 (June 2000), 65–​66. FSF. (2007). The GNU General Public License (Version 3, June 29, 2007). http://​www.gnu.org/​ licenses/​gpl.html [accessed November 24, 2017]. Gancarz, M. (1995). The UNIX philosophy. Woburn, MA: Butterworth-​Heinemann. Geeknet. (2010). Audacity project page on ohloh.net. http://​www.ohloh.net/​p/​audacity [accessed November 24, 2017]. Geiger, H. (1975). What is intermediate technology? MANAS Journal, 28(13). Grimshaw, D. J. (2004). The intermediate technology of the information age? An assessment of the implications of open source (free) software for development. Bourton Hall, UK: Intermediate Technology Development Group, Schumacher Centre for Technology and Development. Hammond, J., & Davis, B. (2005). The creative use of music technology to develop and enhance critical listening skills in music. Hemsworth, West Yorkshire, UK: Hemsworth Arts and Community College/​iCi-​Arts. Hubmayer, A. (2005). Music technology lessons that rock! Presenting strategies and teaching resources for the free audio editing software, Audacity. Paper presented at the Australian Society for Music Education National Conference (July 3–​7, 2005:  Melbourne, Vic.) Celebration of Voices: XV National Conference Proceedings, A, Parkville, Vic. Hubmayer, A. (2009). EMDCA: Experimentation, modification, deconstruction, construction, application—​applying constructivist learning theory to a music technology learning model. Paper presented at the ASME XVII National Conference, Launceston, Tasmania. Hughes, M. & Potter, D. (2002). Tweak to transform: Improving teaching—​a practical handbook for school leaders. Bodmin, UK: Network Educational Press. John, P. (2005). The sacred and the profane: Subject sub-​culture, pedagogical practice and teachers’ perceptions of the classroom uses of ICT. Educational Review, 57(4), 471–​490. Jones, P. (2007). Pod people. Music Teacher, 86(1) p. 19. Kassner, K. (2000). One computer can deliver whole-​class instruction. Music Educators Journal, 86(6), 34. Kerstetter, K. (2009). Educational applications of podcasting in the music classroom. Music Educators Journal, 95(4), 23–​26. Kirkman, P. (2008). Embedding digital technologies in the music classroom: An approach for the new music national curriculum. National Association of Music Educators. Kissane, B. (2000). Technology and the curriculum:  The case of the graphics calculator. Paper presented at the Proceedings of TIME 2000:  An International Conference on Technology in Mathematics Education, 11–​14 December 2000, University of Auckland, Auckland, New Zealand. Litterst, G. F. (2002). Random access: Doing the little things (making effective use of technology). American Music Teacher, 52(December 2002–​January 2003), 64–​65. Litterst, G. F. (2003). Smokin’ technology for your studio (recording CDs for student use). American Music Teacher, 53(August-​September 2003), 82–​93. Longhurst, J., & Sandage, S. A. (2004). Appropriate technology and journal writing. College Teaching, 52(2), 69–​75. Mackrill, D. (2009). The integration of ICT in the music classroom. In J. Evans & C. Philpott (eds.), A practical guide to teaching music in the secondary school (pp. 54–​62). London: Routledge.

Technology and the Educator

161

Mattar, J. (2009). Technological minimalism and second life:  Time for educational technology and content minimalism. Unpublished manuscript, Boise State University. Mercer, A. (2008). Recording digital audio (Audacity editing software). Canadian Music Educator, 49(4), 52–​53. Middleton, R. (1990). Studying popular music. Buckingham, UK: Open University Press. Mills, J., & Murray, A. (2000). Music technology inspected: Good teaching in Key Stage 3. British Journal of Music Education, 17(2), 129–​156. Moore, A., & Moore, D. (2008). Adapting to change: Working with digital sound using open source software in a teaching and learning environment. Journal of Music, Technology and Education, 1(2/​3), 113–​120. Mota, P. & Coutinho, C. (2009). Podcasting: report of an experience in Music Education. In T. Bastiaens et al. (Eds.), Proceedings of World Conference on E-​Learning in Corporate, Government, Healthcare, and Higher Education 2009 (pp. 1374–​ 1382). Vancouver, Canada: AACE. Oetzmann, A., & Mazzoni, D. (2005). Audacity 1.2 Manual. http://​audacity.sourceforge.net/​ manual-​1.2/​index.html [accessed November 24, 2017]. Paynter, J., & Aston, P. (1970). Sound and silence:  Classroom projects in creative music. London: Cambridge University Press. Pitts, A., & Kwami, R. M. (2002). Raising students’ performance in music composition through the use of information and communications technology (ICT): A survey of secondary schools in England. British Journal of Music Education, 19(1), 61–​7 1. Schumacher, E. F. (1973). Small is beautiful:  A study of economics as if people mattered. London: Blond & Briggs. Sichivitsa, V. O. (2007). Audacity in vocal improvisation:  Motivating elementary school students through technology. Teaching Music, 14(4), 48–​51. Sourceforge.net. (2010). Top downloads—​For all time, updated daily. http://​sourceforge.net/​ top/​topalltime.php?type=downloads [accessed November 24, 2017]. Stoll, L., & Temperley, J. (2009). Creative leadership:  A challenge of our times. School Leadership and Management, 29(1), 65–​78. Studer, K. (2005). Maximum technology in the music classroom: Minimum requirements. Teaching Music, 13 (December), 44–​47. TEHNE. (2009). Final evaluation report on project developments and results [Deliverable: 6.3], PRELUDE Training Programme on ICT in music education. Bucharest:  Center for Development and Innovation in Education [TEHNE]. http://​www.ea.gr/​ep/​prelude/​ [accessed November 24, 2017]. Watson, S. (ed.). (2006). Technology guide for music educators. Boston: Technology Institute for Music Educators/​Thomson.

Chapter 10

THE STUDENT PRINCE: MUSIC-​M AKING WITH TECHNOLOGY Andrew King

Music-​making with technology can involve composition and performance, but also recording (among other pursuits). There are several comprehensive texts on recording studio practice of importance, including Modern Recording Techniques (Huber & Runstein, 2009)  and Sound and Recording (Rumsey, 2009)  as well as other more specific titles concerning physics and acoustics, such as Sound Synthesis (Russ, 2008) and Acoustics and Psychoacoustics (Howard & Angus, 2009), and philosophical and critical issues relating to recorded music (Doğantan-​Dack, 2008). Edited volumes that contain specific chapters to the pedagogical aspects of record production include Music, Technology, Education:  Critical Perspectives (King & Himonides, 2016)  and The Routledge Companion to Music, Technology, and Education (King, Himonides, & Ruthmann, 2017). Although professional standard recording facilities are beyond the resources of many educational establishments they do exist at higher education (HE) level in some countries of the world. However, reasonable results can still be achieved using only modest recording setups. This chapter will examine recording studio practice from a pedagogical perspective. It will briefly chart the historical background of music-​making with technology and provide an overview of how technology is used in the curriculum, with reference to some of the current literature in the domain. The central part will evaluate the nature of recording studio practice in education according to a model of key relationships at work. It is not intended that this account will provide a procedural

The Student Prince

163

or theoretical understanding of the technical apparatus; this is covered elsewhere (such as in the texts set out in the opening paragraph).

Music-​Making with Technology Until recently, technological development in music-​making was dominated by performance practice. Instrument makers would alter design to further change technique to affect areas such as sound production; for example, the switch to a valve-​based system in the brass family of instruments. The original contribution of recording apparatus in music production was limited to data storage, or capturing of performance. Circa 1880, experimentation had taken place between the use of phonographic cylinders and flat discs with this very intent. The development of flat discs, such as the lateral-​cut gramophone record, led to the capture of recordings like the 1904 rendition of Bach’s Ave Maria by the castrato Alessandro Moreschi; this would have been lost without the existing “new” capabilities of technology. The emerging mechanical and electrical machines were not exclusively limited to recording studio practice, and there were a few notable exceptions. Devices such as the theremin1 (invented c. 1919) provided new means of musical expression that were distinct from other instruments because they were controlled electronically. Works for this instrument seem to appear predominantly in the scoring of early sci-​ fi films and works of a more avant-​garde nature (films such as the 1951 version of The Day the Earth Stood Still and works by composers such as Varèse). Early pioneering work that used electronic devices and recording studio apparatus were developed in both the Parisian studio Radiodiffusion Télévision Française (RTF) and the Cologne-​based Westdeuscher Rundfunk (WDR). Both were important in the development of new compositional techniques, but polarized in their approaches, RTF developing what was termed musique concrète and WDR electronische musik. Pierre Schaeffer pioneered the work in the Paris studios, which began “as a means of isolating naturally produced sound events, and  .  .  .  how such material might be used as a basis for composition” (Manning, 1985, p.  20). WDR centred on the collaboration between Werner Meyer-​Eppler, Robert Beyer, and Herbert Eimert, who contributed to the development of electronic musical instruments and their use as a compositional tool for the creation of electronische musik (music created by synthetic means). Perhaps the most famous composer from this studio was Karlheinz Stockhausen, who began working at WDR during the early 1950s (for more of a detailed discussion of this development and these approaches see Manning, 1985). It is possible that these developments paved the way for further musical evolution using technology, especially in higher education. Synthesizers have played a part in musical development within more contemporary musical offerings and the more mainstream musical genres. The Pink Floyd Experience2 were early pioneers in the progressive rock genre who utilized electronic

164Andrew King synthesisers (such as the Prophet 2000) within their work. Albums such as Dark Side of the Moon (1973) used a balance of typical instruments found in a rock band of that era (such as drum kit and electric guitars) and combined this with a music step sequencer that played back predefined musical notes in the form of electronic music. However, both the mainstream works of bands and artists such as Pink Floyd, Hawkwind, and Jean Michel Jarre (including the more eclectic offerings from both the Cologne WDR and Paris RTF studios) suffered debilitating drawbacks: the expense and complexity of the machinery and the associated techniques were far beyond the means and abilities of most musicians. Research grants and record deals had allowed the early works to be created, but those who were exposed to the use of the new technology and techniques were in the minority. However, the development of the electric guitar and the synthesizer had allowed musicians the opportunity for different means of musical expression. The electric guitar in particular was within the financial means of amateur musicians. The synthesizer was more expensive and could be difficult to program. The introduction of the CD to the mass market in the early 1980s was similar to the inception of the 78-​rpm record in the early twentieth century:  once again the innovation centered on the capture of performance, but this time in a digital format. The recording techniques used in the studio largely remained the same, but the data storage mechanism for the finished product changed from an analogue-​ to a digital-​based system (only in some studios at first). However, with the development of digital synthesisers and MIDI (musical instrument digital interface) it was possible to use electronic or synthetic sounds as part of a musical performance without the associated expense. The recent advancement of computer technology now enables musicians to have the ability to compose, record, edit, and publish music from their homes, reflecting a historical and socio-​cultural shift from specialist professional to domestic amateur and professional music-​making (similar to the impact and possibilities enabled by the development of the piano in nineteenth-​ century homes). These developments have led to the creation of a new core discipline within the area of music education. Whilst curricula in the past may have focused on performance, composition, history, analysis, and theory of music, an understanding of technology has become vital to the success of the twenty-​first-​century musician and is thus as relevant as these other strands within any music curriculum. The title of this chapter refers not to the operetta of the same name but to the work of the recording artist Prince (who found fame in the 1980s and continues to work in the early twenty-​first century). According to Larson (2006), Prince not only writes and performs in the studio (using multitrack techniques to record many of the instrument lines) but also produces and publishes (online) his own music. Whilst it was not unusual in the past for artists to work with engineers and a producer on the technical elements of the recording, Prince is accredited with pioneering his own sound (the Beatles worked with George Martin and the Red Hot Chilli Peppers with Rick Rubin). Although bands such as Led Zeppelin had musicians within the group that carried out the dual roles of performer and producer (Jimmy Page) they were

The Student Prince

165

not responsible for the entire production (Page is predominantly a guitarist and a backing vocalist) or the publication. The point being made here is how accessibility to technology has now altered the ways in which learners can make music. The approach used by Prince is typical of many young musicians who are able to compose, record, edit, produce, and ultimately publish their own music via the use of technology. Therefore, students are enthusiastically taking responsibility for the artistry of their work but also the scientific elements through its production. Therefore, it is important that educators nurture not only the creative talents of learners but also their scientific discovery when making music with technology. Moreover, if students wish to adopt a Prince-​like approach, then educators must provide ways of enabling them to do so.

Technology in the Music Curriculum The use of technology within this new area of music education comes in a number of guises: sound recording and production, sound design, music for media, live sound, interactive technology, and sonic arts are a few examples of terms currently being used. All involve (to some extent) the use of hardware-​and/​or software-​based technology in the capture, creation, manipulation, and/​or performance of music: these pursuits will overlap in some if not all of these areas. For example, a student rock group may rehearse a track, record it to a computer, mix the sound, adding elements of design, and then combine this with video footage for a media project. Most of what has been empirically evaluated to date focuses on composition with technology or its associated use. For example, the edited volume Music Education with Digital Technology (Finney & Burnard, 2007) draws attention to the changing identity of music education, highlights empirical research from within the classroom, and then suggests strategies for change: nearly always the case studies are driven from the perspective of the composer or sometimes performer (and therefore artist) rather than an examination of the scientific part of the collaboration between music and technology. Brown (2007) provides an interesting overview of how computers are used in music education. This work examines the context, production, presentation, reflection, and implementation of computer technology in this domain. The production section provides a useful glossary to some of the terms associated with the theory and practice of this area. While this book does not (in general) link into many of the more detailed theoretical texts should a reader wish to specialize, there are reflective questions, useful teaching tips, and suggested tasks at the end of each chapter. Williams and Webster (2008) invite the reader to “experience music technology” through a series of viewports that further subdivide critical areas into more manageable modules. Similar to Brown (2007) the text is easily accessible for the

166Andrew King educator and provides an introduction to some of the key areas. Also of note is Folkestad’s (1996) work concerning music-​making with computers. A similar picture can be viewed in some of the academic journals: Seddon and O’Neill (2001) evaluate computer-​based composition by novice and experienced students; Crow (2006) proposes musical creativity with new technology; Savage (2005) describes how students engage with and organize sound in composition; Ruthmann (2007) examines approaches to composition in the classroom; whilst Brown and Dillon (2007) use networks for improvisation in musical performance. Other books and articles in the domain of music technology focus solely on the acquisition of procedural skills (or the teaching of tools), not least because of the complexity of the apparatus at the students’ disposal when creating music with technology.

The Recording Studio in Education How do we teach students recording studio practice? This domain presents a considerable number of challenges for the educator. Cain (2004) debated the issues with current music education theory and the increased use of technology within the curriculum. Considering that the recording studio can house some of the most complex music hardware and software available on the market, educators require some expertise in handling this environment. It is therefore necessary to consider not only the content of the curriculum but also the studio (the “environment”), the users and how they are supported (the “community”). Figure 10.1 provides a model of the key relationships involved in recording studio education, each of which will be discussed below in turn.

Environment

Curriculum

Community

Figure 10.1  Key relationships in recording studio practice for educators.

The Student Prince

167

Environment The recording studio presents an interesting example of a learning environment (Lave & Wenger, 1991). The variety of different roles coupled with the complexity of some of the procedures and apparatus leads to some interesting problems and considerations for the educator (e.g., see King, 2008, 2009). There are many different types of studio environments depending upon the intended use of the space. Considerations also include the type of apparatus within the area and ergonomics. The physical environment of the studio is sometimes split between rooms that capture performance and those that record sound. Terms such as studio floor, vocal booth, drum booth, live room, and dry room are used to describe areas for recording sound. In essence a studio floor is a sufficiently broad enough description for most of the recording area, although sometimes these are partitioned into specialist areas for the capture of different instruments (such as a vocal booth). However, some studios use movable acoustic screens to attempt to isolate instrumentalists from each other. The control room contains the apparatus to capture the recording, although some studios place equipment in a machine room away from the quiet listening area. The layout of the control room equipment allows engineers and producers a means to capture, edit, and mix sound (see fig. 10.2). In a traditional analogue studio the mixing desk acts not only to balance the spatial, frequency, and amplitude aspects of the sound but also as a routing device and junction between other studio apparatus. The light grey areas in Figure 10.2 are the studio speakers (sometimes known as monitors). The other apparatus in the studio can be broadly split into three groups: (1) recording devices; (2) signal processors; and (3)  signal generators. These groups are discussed in more detail later. Computer-​based recording software offers the same functionality yet (unless used with a control surface) is viewed via the computer monitor (see fig. 10.3). Within the environment, the process from which an original musical idea is realized to the end product is complex. In the industrial world of recording there were traditionally many roles involved in the production of music:  the sound

Mixing Desk

Recording devices

Signal Processors

Speaker

Signal Generators

Figure 10.2  Recording apparatus in control room.

168Andrew King

Figure 10.3  Pro Tools music editing software (showing audio and MIDI tracks). Reproduced with permission from Avid Technology.

engineer; the tape operator; the recording engineer; the balance engineer; and the mastering engineer (and their associated assistants at various levels) are just some examples. It could often take years for an employee to move from either positioning microphones or operating a tape machine before they were put in charge of balancing amplitude levels between recorded parts. Arguably, using the traditional industry model is not a practical approach for teaching, nor does it reflect current trends in music production. The role of a student in a recording studio would appear to share more similarities with a music producer, or the musician Prince. In this role they would need to be familiar with studio technology and its capabilities but also work with the artists on the musical creativity or the overall sound. In addition, they could be involved with the performance of the music that is to be captured. Therefore, a fundamental understanding of the technical apparatus, roles, and artistry in the studio environment is necessary.

Curriculum The difficulty in any music technology curriculum is how to balance the acquisition of key skills (such as sound engineering) to realize the creative work, whilst also nurturing the artistic talents of the student. There are theoretical principles that need

The Student Prince

169

to be understood and also techniques that need to be acquired. However, educators need to strike a balance between the direct exposition of teaching materials and allowing the students to experience and explore music production in what is a complex (and expensive!) environment. Indeed, given the likelihood of technical errors and equipment malfunction within the studio environment, it is good practice for educators to enforce clear rules and methods for dealing with such problems (the majority of studios contain a “fault book” or “report manual” for logging errors). The possibility of using relatively inexpensive software to replace the array of machinery used in the analogue recording studio has brought production within the reach of many musicians. However, computer-​based software packages in some cases merely try to imitate the analogue machinery they have replaced, some having less success than others. A considerable number of professional studios have adopted digital recording technology that models and improves the functionality of the older analogue systems (for example the Pro Tools control surface). The primary aim of a music-​production-​style course is to develop the learner’s skills and knowledge and ensure that this education is transferable to new environments. Many of the software-​and hardware-​based recording studios use different programs and machinery, and there is no set layout or standard. However, they share the same principles even if the practice of operating these facilities differs. For example, the parameters to compress an audio signal are the same across equipment manufacturers and software designers, though the ways you access and operate these tools can differ.

Recording Studio Practice The process of producing a recording is sometimes referred to as the program chain (Borwick, 1994). A number of stages are necessary from the initial idea through to the published work. An industrial perspective would consider not only the artistic and technical requirements but also the commercial aspects; the latter issue will not be dealt with here. The term production can often be used in the holistic sense to mean the entire process. However, for a closer examination of what occurs it is useful to further subdivide this into three areas: (1) preproduction; (2) production; and (3) postproduction (see fig. 10.4). It is essential for learners to experience these areas of production and thus for the curriculum to center around this process.

Preproduction This stage of the process involves the preparation for the recording to take place. First, it is desirable to have a well-​rehearsed track before recording can begin. Record companies do provide some artists with funds to explore and create new music in the studio environment:  this is very difficult for the educator who may

170Andrew King 1) Preproduction

Rehearsal

2) Production

Record

3) Postproduction

Final edit

Select and setup technical apparatus

Mixing

Original Master

Publish

Figure 10.4  Stages of production.

have extensive demands on resources. It is also important to ascertain what is to be recorded (i.e., instruments) and how this is to be achieved. There are two main styles of studio recording technique: multitrack and “live.”3 The first technique involves a process of adding together a series of recorded parts separately until all the parts have been captured. Typically, the lead singer (using a metronome click track for timing) in a band would provide what is known as a guide vocal (a reference tool for the rest of the group) as the first recorded track. Next, the drummer could record their part separately, followed by the bass guitar, keyboards, and so forth. Finally, the lead vocalist would re-​record the vocal line over the top of the recorded tracks. The second technique is much simpler: the group performs together in the studio, and all the instrument tracks are recorded at the same time. Neither approach could be described as “correct”; they are merely different. The approach taken will often be determined by the style of music, the resources available, or the artistic vision of the producer. For example, a band such as Kraftwerk may add an acoustic vocal line to a pre-​existing multitrack version of a song. By contrast, the producer Chris Kimsey (coproducer of Steel Wheels and Undercover by the Rolling Stones among other notable works) remarked in an interview for an audio industry magazine that he preferred the interaction between performers which he believed gave the recording a certain “live” feel. However, a multitrack approach may be used because of the limited size of the studio floor, or lack of microphones; alternatively, the group may record as a unit because of limited multitrack facilities. It is possible that once the recording has been completed using either technique, further overdubs (the addition or re-​recording) of some instrumental tracks would need to take place. Once it has been established which approach will be used it is then necessary to establish how to set up the studio for the recording. For a multitrack method each recording stage will require a different layout. For the method that involves recording the group as a whole unit, then it is necessary to consider other parameters. Each method requires the selection and positioning of microphones, unless a direct

The Student Prince

171

injection4 is used from a guitar amplifier. If the band is to record together then it is also important to make sure the instrumentalists can see each other. The distance of some instrumentalists from each other (such as the loud drum kit) is also important in order to make sure the microphones are positioned in the optimum place to capture the performance of the intended instrumentalist. Finally, the amplitude level for each track that will be recorded should be set.

Production Depending upon the approach used in the recording, there is a subsequent number of takes to capture the performance for the recording. All instrumental parts should be recorded at the optimum level to the recording equipment (whether it is a software-​or hardware-​based device). After the instrumental recording has taken place the next consideration is mixing the sound. This involves a number of functions: balancing the amplitude; positioning the tracks in the stereo or surround field; signal generation (adding effects such as reverb to simulate a type of acoustic environment); signal processing (using devices such as compressors to control the sound, or parametric equalization to alter the timbre). Once this has been achieved a two-​track original master can be made from the recorded tracks. A useful way to think of the mixing stage of a recording is through a visual art such as photography. When considering the composition of a picture it is important to think about what elements to include and how these elements are arranged (what are the points of interest and so forth). In a photograph it is possible to consider the image not only from up to down and left to right but also from back to front: the fore-​, mid-​, and back-​ground of the image. Mixing together the various elements of a recorded track can be viewed (to some extent) in the same way, although the crafting of a recording is something more fluid. The dynamic contour of the recording can change over time, and the position of instruments within the sound field can alter. Moylan (2007) discusses in detail the artistic side of crafting a mix in the studio. For an audio recording it is necessary to consider the relevant amplitude of the parts in relation to each other as well as the position of the sounds from left to right. In addition, it is sometimes desirable to place sounds in the same point within the sound field to create a texture. Alternatively, instruments are deliberately set apart to allow space within the mix (it may be difficult to hear the intricacies of a particular instrument part if it is masked by another). However, sometimes sounds are positioned within the same place deliberately. For example, a soprano saxophone may be placed at the center of the sound field as a lead instrument with an acoustic bass. The tessitura and timbre of each instrument is such that these instruments may complement one another. Effects processors are an important consideration at the mixing stage. Effects such as reverb, chorus, and delay can add color or contrast to a recording and can

172Andrew King be used to simulate an acoustic environment (such as a church or concert hall) or a chorus effect on a voice, for instance. Instrument tracks in the studio are usually recorded dry (without an effect) for this purpose: you can always add to the sound with an effects processor, but this becomes difficult to take away (if not impossible) if it is part of the original recording. However, some lead guitarists cultivate a sound that includes not only the timbre of a chosen instrument but also the addition of a number of pedals (such as delay). These instruments and accompanying effects are usually recorded in the initial take. Signal processors differ to generators in that they control and shape elements of the sound rather than add to them. For example, a compressor stops a sound from being too loud, and can also have the added effect of boosting the amplitude of quieter sections of the music. A noise gate will isolate sounds from a recorded track below a certain amplitude threshold. For example, if the sound of a guitar has been captured on the microphone of a backing vocalist, a noise gate could be set to eradicate the sound of the guitar and “close” the track when the backing vocalist is not singing. Although it is important to note that many producers find this level of control unnecessary, some feel that in order to sculpt the sound effectively it is important to isolate each sound; any alteration to a recorded track will affect any sound captured on that channel. Parametric equalization can be used to isolate and alter troublesome frequencies (or bands thereof) within a recording. Alternatively, it is possible to alter the timbre of an instrument by changing the prominence of certain frequencies using these controls. In this sense this tool could be seen as either a signal processor or a signal generator. After the various volume levels have been considered and the sound positioned and altered, the recording is ready to be bounced down to an original master (a version of the track that could be played using a home system). In a digital studio often automation is used to record alterations of parameters, such as amplitude, or the stereo positioning of tracks that is stored by the computer. The analogue studio required engineers and artists to carry out these changes manually using the studio equipment whilst the recording was being made into an original master: there is a sense of performance in this approach perhaps lost in the digital world.

Postproduction Once the original master has been created it is ready for a final “tweak” and the creation of a production master. This two-​track version of the recording can have the overall amplitude changed using a compressor, or the frequency content altered. This is usually performed by a mastering engineer who may or may not work in a separate studio location. If the music is to be used as a soundtrack for a media project such as a film, it is at this stage that the elements of audio and visual are added together. Finally, different versions of the music are produced for publication. For

The Student Prince

173

example, the formats for digital versatile disc (DVD), CD, and mp3 require different versions of the track. The latter is particularly difficult because a balance needs to be struck between the ability to download and stream the track direct from a website, whilst also maintaining the quality of the final production master.

Community The learners who utilize technology in music-​making exist in communities of practice (Wenger, 1998) that are virtual (Salavuo, 2008) and real. The way the community can operate to support one another in studio-​based work is a phenomenon not fully explored. However, Ruthmann (2007) has provided an insight into the types of online support that could be used collaboratively by learners and Salavuo (2008) has identified key areas of online music communities (or social network sites) which can be summarized as: (1) distribution; (2) critique; (3) discussion; and (4)  collaboration. It is possible to add a further category to this list:  (5) support (King, 2010). What is important for educators to understand is the roles and communication in the music studio, issues relating to tasks and problem solving, and how peers collaborate within groups.

Roles and Communication in the Studio Sometimes the roles within the studio environment include the artist(s) to be recorded, the engineer(s) to carry out the procedure, and the producer to oversee the project from inception through to publication. However, as mentioned above, these formal roles can become blurred within the studio environment, none more so than within educational settings. The role of the tutor within taught sessions is to manage this process to ensure all aspects are covered by all the learners. This can be carried out over a single studio workshop or over a period of weeks. It is often interesting not to assign roles in the first instance, to see how the students naturally begin to work together within the environment. However, intervention is often necessary to rotate the different roles around the group. If available, technical support staff may provide assistance in the learning process, too. Communication is a key component of a successful recording studio session. The ability to give clear, concise instructions and indicate cues to performers is necessary for a successful project. A  studio would normally consist of a talkback system that allows communication between the studio floor and the control room. In addition, the use of gestural cues via a (sometimes) soundproofed window to artists enables synchronization between performance and its intended capture.

174Andrew King

Task-​Related Issues in the Recording Studio King and Vickers (2007) outline four main areas of task-​related issues encountered by learners in the recording studio environment:  (1) problem solving (technical issues); (2) planning/​management of task; (3) division of labor; and (4) feedback. Technical issues are solved more easily within the formal workshop environment or in some form of peer-​to-​peer learning (see below). A blended learning strategy that includes online video tutorials as well as text and pictorial guides (alongside theoretical lectures, seminars, and workshops) will help students to solve technical problems on a contingency basis. How students go about completing a particular recording session is an important issue for the educator. It is unlikely that all the stages described in Figure 10.4 will be carried out within a single session. In addition, it is possible to assign leadership of certain areas to different members when conducting group work. This leads to the way the work is divided up by the group. More dominant members of the group will “take control” of the session, especially if they are more advanced users of the technical equipment. A considered approach to group construction is necessary to allow learners to explore different collaborations.

Group Work and Peer Learning in the Recording Studio Dillenbourg (1999) highlights three main theoretical perspectives of group work that could be considered in the educational recording studio:  (1) socio-​constructivist; (2)  sociocultural; and 3)  shared cognition. The first perspective relates to how individuals develop through interaction with others. This could involve a socio-​ conflict approach (putting together learners of a similar ability) to attempt to achieve a balance of ability within the group. In his results from an empirical study, Slavin (1990) suggested that learning was more effective when students with similar abilities worked together. However, Azmitia (1988) claimed that learners paired with an expert demonstrated greatly enhanced learning. Jones and King (2009) investigated the use of mentors (or experts) within the recording studio environment that also involved arranging the learners in groups of similar abilities and studio experience. The preliminary stages of the study revealed that the learners appeared to establish a working pattern within the preproduction stage of the recording process by each assuming a particular role (such as operating the mixing desk) that lasted the entire session; exposure to different elements of the recording process was not always experienced. That said, the groups of students were able to achieve a slightly improved level of attainment than their prior knowledge suggested because of the presence of the mentor. A sociocultural approach highlights group development, whilst shared cognition draws attention to the relationship between the learners and their environment. This latter approach is especially relevant to music technology education, for the studio is an integral aspect of any project. For example, a collaborative recording project in a studio could involve learners communicating with one another about

The Student Prince

175

how they go about the task. At the same time, a considerable amount of technical apparatus must be managed through collaboration (it is often the case that areas of the studio and technical equipment will be assigned to different members of a team). Interactions sometimes occur in step, through turn taking, or in unison, depending upon the stage in the recording process.

Conclusion Technology has become a vital part of music curricula in the twenty-​first century. Students need confidence and experience in handling technology and can achieve so many possibilities in their music-​making via recording practice, especially if assuming a Prince-​like approach. The key relationships between curriculum, environment (studio), and community (learners, educators, studio users, support staff) that are essential in building up technology programs have been discussed in this chapter. Fostering a sense of community within music learners (whether virtual or real) who use studio technology is an important step towards delivering the content of a curriculum: it is not necessary for the educator to provide all of the expertise. Instead, by encouraging and providing an environment for the creation of music with technology, and managing collaborations between groups, the educator can act as a producer rather than a maestro. It will be through our shared understanding of this environment, the challenges our learners face, and the community which this practice concerns that will enable educators to provide a coherent strategy for teaching music-​making with technology. There is still a considerable amount of investigation necessary to fully understand music-​making with technology in the studio. The lack of expertise or support for teaching with technology within the music community has made curriculum reform challenging (see Leong, 2007). Green (2002) has shown us “how popular musicians learn” and proposed a new classroom pedagogy (2008). These texts lead us to the door of the recording studio by providing an understanding of the rehearsal stage of the preproduction process. However, whilst there is some evidence of what goes on beyond those doors, educators have yet to fully realize the potential of art meeting science in the studio itself.

Reflective Questions

1. What sort of teaching activities could be designed to facilitate learning in the recording studio? 2. How do students work collaboratively when working with technology?

176Andrew King

3. What is the nature of the studio roles they assume and how does this change? 4. What is the link between the understanding of recording theory and practice? 5. How do students support each other when making music with technology?

WEBSITES http://​mixonline.com (video tutorials, forums, reviews). http://​www.aes.org (tutorials, forums, networking; membership required). http://​www.jamesonline.org.uk (U.K. focused). http://​www.ti-​me.org (U.S. focused). http://​www.recordproduction.com

NOTES 1. The theremin is an early electronic instrument that allows the performer to manipulate frequency and amplitude via proximity to dual antennas. 2. This is the original name of the band, which was later shortened to Pink Floyd. 3. It is important to note that recordings of some ensembles are captured using stereo microphone techniques within an auditorium designed for concerts; this is not being discussed here. 4. The sound is captured direct from an object such as a guitar amp via a cable and routed to the studio. Therefore, none of the ambience of the studio or other instrument sounds will be transmitted using this method.

REFERENCES Azmitia, M. (1988). Peer Interaction and Problem Solving:  When Are Two Heads Better Than One? Child Development, 59(1), 87–​96. Borwick, J. (1994). Sound recording practice. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Brown, A. (2007). Computers in music education. New York: Routledge. Brown, A., & Dillon, S. (2007). Networked improvisational musical environments: Learning through on-​line collaborative music making. In J. Finney & P. Burnard (eds.), Music education with digital technology (pp. 131–​141). New York: Continuum. Cain, T. (2004). Theory, technology and the music curriculum. British Journal of Music Education, 21(2), 215–​221. Crow, B. (2006). Musical creativity and the new technology. Music Education Research, 8(1), 121–​130.

The Student Prince

177

Dillenbourg, P. (1999). Collaborative Learning: Cognitive and Computational Approaches. Advances in Learning and Instruction Series. New York, NY: Elsevier Science, Inc. Doğantan-​ Dack, M. (2008). Recorded music:  Philosophical and critical reflections. London: Middlesex University Press. Finney, J., & Burnard, P. (eds.). (2007). Music education with digital technology. New York: Continuum. Folkestad, G. (1996). Computer-​based creating and music making: Young people’s music in the digital age. Göteborg: ACTA. Green, L. (2002). How popular musicians learn: A way ahead for music education. Aldershot, UK: Ashgate. Green, L. (2008). Music, informal learning and the school:  A new classroom pedagogy. Aldershot, UK: Ashgate. Howard, D. M., & Angus, J. (2009). Acoustics and psychoacoustics (3rd ed.). Oxford: Focal Press. Huber, D. M., & Runstein, R. E. (2009). Modern recording techniques (7th ed.). New York: Elsevier. Jones, C., & King, A. (2009). Peer learning in the music studio. Journal of Music, Technology & Education, 2(1), 55–​70. King, A. (2008). Collaborative learning in the music studio. Music Education Research, 10(3), 423–​438. King, A. (2009). Contingent learning for creative music technologists. Technology, Pedagogy & Education, 18(2), 137–​154. King, A. (2010). Music making in the studio: A blended learning approach. Journal of Music, Technology & Education, 2(2/​3), 175–​185. King, A., & Himonides, E. (2016). Music, Technology, and Education: Critical Perspectives. Oxon: Routledge. King, A., Himonides, E., & Ruthmann, S. A. (2017). The Routledge Companion to Music, Technology, and Education. New York: Routledge. King, A., & Vickers, P. (2007). Problem solving with learning technology in the music studio. Journal of Music, Technology & Education, 1(1), 57–​67. Larson, T. E. (2006). History of rock and roll. Dubuque: Kendall Hunt. Lave, J., & Wenger, E. (1991). Situated Learning. UK: Cambridge University Press. Leong, S. (2007). Strategies for enabling curriculum reform towards a technology-​infused future:  Lessons from Hong Kong, Singapore and Australia. In J. Finney, & P. Burnard (eds.), Teaching Music in the Internet Age (pp. 181–​195). London: Continuum. Manning, P. (1985). Electronic and computer music. New York: Oxford University Press. Moylan, W. (2007). Understanding and crafting the mix. Oxford: Focal Press. Rumsey, F. (2009). Sound and recording. Oxford: Focal Press. Russ, M. (2008). Sound synthesis and sampling. Oxford: Focal Press. Ruthmann, S. A. (2007). Strategies for supporting music learning through on-​line collaborative technologies. In J. Finney & P. Burnard (eds.), Music education with digital technology (pp. 131–​141). New York: Continuum. Salavuo, M. (2008). Social media as an opportunity for pedagogical change in music education. Journal of Music, Technology & Education, 1(2/​3), 121–​136. Savage, J. (2005). Working towards a theory for music technologists in the classroom: How students engage with and organise sounds with new technologies. British Journal of Music Education, 22(2), 167–​180. Seddon, F., & O’Neill, S. A. (2001). An evaluation of computer-​based compositions by children with and without prior experience of formal music tuition. Psychology of Music, 29(1), 4–​19.

178Andrew King Slavin, R. E. (1990). Cooperative Learning: Theory, Research and Practice. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-​Hall. Wenger, E. (1998). Communities of practice:  Learning, meaning, and identity. New  York: Cambridge University Press. Williams, D. B., & Webster, P. R. (2008). Experiencing music technology. Boston: Schirmer.

Chapter 11

DRIVING FORWARD TECHNOLOGY’S IMPRINT ON MUSIC EDUCATION Jonathan Savage

It is always wise to look ahead, but difficult to look further than you can see. This quotation from Winston Churchill is apposite for a chapter that seeks to draw together what has preceded it, amplify its themes, and use them to anticipate future dispositions towards the application of music technology in education settings. In many educational contexts around the world the use of music technologies has increased rapidly. As the previous chapters within this part of the volume have considered, there have been significant pieces of research related to curriculum design, teacher pedagogy, and ways of learning with technology. Many of these have impacted on the work of music educators in positive ways. But this is not a time for self-​congratulation or passive reflection. Outside the often-​closeted world of education, technological developments continue to move forwards rapidly. Hardly a week goes by without comment in the international press about a new technological innovation or application related to the production, reception, or consumption of music in one form or another. Recently, issues such as the establishment of an agency for navigating online copyright issues for film and musical content has been discussed (Fitzsimmons, 2009), new systems to help train people to use prosthetic limbs using Guitar Hero (a

180Jonathan Savage music video game) have been developed (Graham, 2009), and iPhone, iPod Touch, and iPad owners have seen the development of a plethora of applications to play virtual pianos, drums, and guitars (Apple, 2009). As developments in technology move relentlessly forwards, there are the twin dangers facing educators:  moving too quickly or too slowly. Either way, disjunctions between the pedagogy and practice of music education have been noted, in school-​based education (Savage, 2004, p.167; Cain, 2004, p. 217; Ofsted, 2009, p. 34) and higher education (Draper, 2008, p. 137; Jenkins et al., 2007, p. 129). Now, more than ever, music educators need to be maintain their focus on what constitutes effective teaching and learning with music technology. If, in Churchill’s words, “it is wise to look ahead but difficult to look further than one can see,” what methods or tools could we utilize to help us do this more effectively?

Key Principles Establishing principles for educational change is a tricky and problematic task. In the majority of this chapter we will be looking ahead at the challenges we may face, using key principles drawn from a piece of educational research. Before we do that, we will briefly look backward and reflect on how we have got to where we are today.

Looking Backward Technology has permeated every aspect of our musical lives in the early twenty-​first century. They provide us with new opportunities to listen to music, to produce, share, and perform musical ideas together, and to teach and learn from one another. The use of technology within music education has challenged and reshaped views about the principles and purposes of music teaching and learning. As an example, Reimer’s question about the importance of musical performance as a central role in a music education remains as important today as it did when it was first posed (Reimer, 1994; Savage, 2005a). The precise skills, embodied knowledge, or understanding that the activity of musical performance actually facilitates is worth debating. Within the United Kingdom this is something that is currently receiving considerable attention, as approaches to whole-​class instrumental teaching, such as Wider Opportunities, are embedded across the country. The perceived benefits of this on students’ self-​esteem and wider academic studies are easily written about in evaluative studies (FMS, 2010) but perhaps less easy to substantiate, due to a lack of longitudinal studies in these areas (Savage, 2010a).

Driving Forward Technology’s Imprint on Music Education

181

More generally, technology leaves its mark on our work and in our minds; its imprint becomes firmly embedded on our pedagogies, implicating our thinking in implicit and explicit ways. Once there, it is hard to remove, and the nature of our responses to it have shaped the nature of music education to this point in time. Some readers may feel that their work has “escaped” the technological imprint up to this point. I would gently like to question this assumption. Many young people’s experience of music outside the formal learning context is technologically rich and varied. Musical learning in the “real” world, outside the formality of schools and classrooms, is often portrayed as transparent and boundless when compared to the formal classroom. Without the prevailing subject cultures and unhelpful categorizations of knowledge and pedagogy that dominate our schools, in the “real” world learners can navigate their way seamlessly among and between subject knowledge that, the argument goes, they might find more difficult to achieve in a more formal setting. Of course, such bald parallels are based on false assumptions and a narrow understanding of what happens within both contexts. But the intelligent use and application of music technologies has provided us with an opportunity to challenge our way of thinking about subjects, curricula, teaching, and learning. Has this discourse really passed teachers by? To what extent has their work successfully responded to the technology’s imprint on the musical lives of their students? The challenge of responding positively to this imprint on our work is not easy. There are many strong forces that militate against it. One of the restraining elements is a strong, traditional view of music within a particular subject culture. For Goodson and Mangen, a “subject culture” (Goodson & Mangen, 1998, p.120) is” an identifiable structure which is visibly expressed through classroom organization and pedagogical styles.” For many teachers, the subject culture and its associated” ways of being” (Van Manen, 1977, p. 205) define their teaching practice at a fundamental level. Within the secondary education context, the opportunity to develop one’s subject and teach others about it is high up the list of most teachers’ job satisfaction (Spear, Gould, & Lea, 2000, p.  52). Within initial teacher education, subject knowledge (i.e., the actual knowledge of the subject but also, implicitly, the way that the subject is presented and traditionally taught) is a strong, formative force on the beginner teacher. It can consolidate and congeal approaches to teaching and learning if an uncritical stance is allowed to develop. Young teachers need to cultivate a deliberate sense of ” playful engagement” with their formative subject culture. The critical and reflective teacher of music has stood a better chance of responding positively to the technological imprint when they have been able to reconceptualize music’s subject culture to accommodate new technology mediated musical practices. As we change our focus and begin to look forward, the following key principles will give the reader a stronger chance of engaging in a constructive way to future technological developments within music education.

182Jonathan Savage

Looking Forwards Looking forwards, what key principles could underpin our work in developing the use of music technology as a tool for teaching and learning? “Futures” research in education provides us with some starting points. One of the most extensive pieces of research into the future of education and technology was completed in the United Kingdom. Beyond Current Horizons was a two-​year project funded by the Department for Children, Schools and Families which drew together over 100 academics from disciplines as diverse as computer science, demography, psychology, and sociology of childhood, and involved contributions from over 130 other organizations and individuals from industry, practice, policy, and research. The aim of the Beyond Current Horizons research project was to explore the potential futures for education that might emerge at the intersection of social and technological change over the coming two decades. Its purpose is to map out current and emerging socio-​technical trends, the critical uncertainties in our understanding of future socio-​technical developments, and the challenges or opportunities that such developments might offer to educators. (DCSF & Futurelab, 2009, p. 3)

In order to assist its research methodology, the Beyond Current Horizons program developed four principles that built on a review of the existing fields of futures research and educational futures, theoretical gains from social studies of technology, and insights from educational philosophy. These four principles provide a useful starting point for our discussion with respect to the future of music technologies in education. Each will be briefly considered and applied. 1. Our aim today is to challenge assumptions rather than present definitive predictions. Researching the future cannot simply be a case of producing a set of predictions of what “will happen” as though this were beyond the intervention of individuals or societies. Nor can it simply be a case of discussing what we “want” or “will make” happen, as though there were no prior contexts to shape our actions. (Facer & Sandford, 2010, p. 76)

A key element of imagining future educational scenarios is about challenging assumptions today and using these to ask questions about potential future models. Facer, the program director, quotes Bell, who proposed that futures research can best be understood as an attempt to explore the relationships between “possible, probable, and preferable” futures. This involves asking “what can or could be (the possible), what is likely to be (the probable), and what ought to be (the preferable)?” (Bell, 1997, p. 73). But prior to seeking answers to these questions, the first task of any exploration of the possible futures for music technology within education must be to critique the assumption that there is an inevitable future to which we must simply adapt or resist. Within the context of our work as music educators, remember that any imagined future curriculum models for music, or any new technologies that may be invented or applied to our work, are similarly contextualized by assumptions, contexts, and

Driving Forward Technology’s Imprint on Music Education

183

actions, the majority of which are known to us today. Bell’s questions in the above paragraph are as relevant to proposed musical developments as they are to generic models for the future uses of technology in education. Critiquing our assumptions, our actions, our pedagogies as music educators today are vital first steps. Maintaining a questioning and enquiring mindset should underpin all our work. But there are a number of dangers here. Firstly, assuming that change will not happen. This is naïve. Technological change is apparent, obvious, and surrounds us each day. Secondly, assuming that change will happen more quickly than it does. This is equally unhelpful. The history of technology is littered with unfulfilled assumptions and overly positivistic rhetoric. Many of these obscure and complicate our thinking at a time when calm but critical thought is needed. 2. The future of music education is not determined solely by its technologies. The twin dangers of assuming too much or too little are evident if one looks back at the impact of technology on different fields. Although our history is saturated by stories of unfulfilled visions (e.g., a paperless world), it is also dominated by stories of visions being realized more quickly than anticipated (e.g., the human genome project). Technological determinism in any form within music education is worth avoiding as we seek to develop our pedagogy. Facer and Sandford comment that the sociology of technology, actor network theory, socio-​cultural psychology, and post-​structural critical theory, however, all make visible the complex relationship between technological development and social change. Although there are different positions on this spectrum, these perspectives imply an understanding of social change as a co-​production of technical, discursive and social factors. (Facer & Sandford, 2010, pp. 76–​77)

Within the field of music education it is worth dwelling on this notion of co-​ production and the factors that it contains. Considering music education in isolation from other educational, technical, and sociological dimensions will not be a helpful approach. Whilst the discrete elements of music as a subject culture may be possible to define, their implications and connections with wider fields of knowledge, including the socio-​technological field, need to be acknowledged and strengthened if change is to occur in a systematic and helpful way. There needs to be a firm emphasis on music education with technology engaging with and relating to wider educational theories and activities. Too narrow a focus on the technology itself will not provide the answers. 3. Music education has a range of responsibilities that relate closely to broader educational agendas. As music educators, where do our responsibilities lie? The Beyond Current Horizons program conceptualized education as being responsible for:

• Qualifying learners to take on certain roles (requiring the development of knowledge and competencies) • Socializing learners to participate in wider community, family, and social contexts • Equipping learners to develop their own sense of selves, identity, and agency (DCSF & Futurelab, 2009, p. 18)

184Jonathan Savage These aims are very similar to other pieces of recent curriculum reform and development, such as the recent implementation of the new Key Stage 3 (pupils aged 11–​14) National Curriculum within England (QCA, 2007, p. 7). A detailed exposition of the aims and purposes of music education can be found elsewhere in this volume. Here, the key point is simple. When one is thinking about the future of music education and the development of new technologies within this, it is important to consider how the broader changes both within and outside music education might relate to these proposed changes and how these may lead us to question and challenge our assumptions about the wider purposes of education (see principle 1 above). Examples here might include how technology implicates the processes of personal and social interaction within musical activities or how creativity and imagination are developed within musical composition. 4. Thinking about the future for music education with technology always requires analyzing associated values, politics, and rhetorical devices. Conceptions or visions of the future are powerful rhetorical devices (Facer & Sandford, 2010, p. 77). Within the field of music education and technology, it is possible for individuals or groups to use these devices to promote change for various reasons. Perhaps the most obvious examples relate to commercial interests of music technology companies. Whilst many companies may not have an explicit educational rationale underpinning their work, many of them do sell their products into educational markets as part of their wider vision. In this scenario, the rhetoric surrounding the value and use of technological tools in contexts outside of music education are imported into it. One only needs to visit a small number of schools to see this happening. A survey of technology in secondary schools across the United Kingdom (Savage, 2010b) found a prevalence of certain types of hardware and software tools that were designed for uses outside the immediate context of education. This is not to say that these tools cannot (and were not) successfully applied to their educational contexts. Rather, the range of political, commercial, and operational values infused in these technologies through the design and manufacturing process need to be made explicit. They are not neutral. This rhetorical discourse should be made visible, and the consequences of it on the key processes of musical teaching and learning carefully mapped. These four principles are particularly appropriate for this chapter’s focus on preparing for future developments in music education with technology. It is to this area that our attention will now turn.

Future Approaches to Teaching and Learning in Music with Technology The principles discussed above are built around the requirement for a careful exemplification of the origins and values underpinning music education with technology.

Driving Forward Technology’s Imprint on Music Education

185

These pieces of technology will change in incredible ways over the next 20 years. Some of these we may be able to predict; others will take us all by surprise. But the impact of these new technologies will be dependent upon the social context, value frameworks, educational agendas, and pedagogies that they are brought into and work alongside them. Future curriculum initiatives, such as the development of cross-​curricular approaches to teaching and learning, will make different demands on music teachers in their choice and use of these technologies. We will explore these below. But it is vital that we maintain a critical stance in relationship to these issues and do not succumb to false rhetoric. Technologies do not hold all the answers to the potential educational challenges that music educators will face. They are one part of a web of influences on their work. Their use is mediated by other important and powerful factors that need to be held within a careful balance. The relationship between new pedagogical approaches that emerge alongside the use of these new technologies and the role of the technology itself will be a delicate and fragile one that needs to be understood and reflected on within the context of the activity itself. This reinforces the observation made by Lawrence Stenhouse that “there is no curriculum development without teacher development” (Stenhouse, 1980, p.  85). Teachers will by no means be redundant in these future scenarios. Developing that reflective “eye” and “ear” and being alert to the changing nature of their pedagogy will be key skills, whatever new technologies may emerge. Simply coercing music teachers towards certain predetermined positions for the use of music technologies in music education is not the way forward. With this in mind, I  propose to consider four key possibilities or challenges facing music education as new technologies emerge and are applied to processes of teaching and learning. I do not present these as a prescriptive list. I am as uncertain as the next music educator about what the future holds. Rather, I hope that through presenting these issues in light of the key principles above that the reader will be able to begin to thoughtfully anticipate potential changes in music education, and begin to consider how his individual research or pedagogy will develop in light of these changes. I do not present these in any order of importance (although the reason for the order will become apparent as the chapter progresses).

Empowering “Trading Zones” and Redefining Subject Cultures For many, the subject culture of music is where their musical identity has been nurtured and developed. Subject cultures contain sets of values, definitions, and interests (Jephcote & Davies, 2007, p. 210) that, although often hard to define, are experienced by participants within that culture almost intuitively. These values come to the fore when threatened or challenged. For example, evidence of disrupting

186Jonathan Savage elements within a subject culture can be seen when insensitive approaches to cross-​ curricular ways of working are imposed on teachers. In this scenario, differences between subject cultures lead to conflict and tension both within and across subjects. It is no surprise, therefore, that this has often been cited as a reason for the lack of cross-​curricular development within the secondary curriculum context (Cooper, 1983, p. 208).1 Researchers at the University of Bristol investigated how technology can mediate between subject cultures. As a first step, they investigated four major dimensions across which individual subject cultures might differ significantly in respect of their relationship with technology. These were: 1. The “sunk costs” of information and communication technologies (ICT) within the subject culture. This refers to the material and symbolic investments teachers have consciously or unconsciously made in conceptions of the content of the subject, its purpose, and how it should be taught in respect of ICT. 2. The modes of learning that ICT might facilitate. This refers to the characteristic processes, demonstrations, and outcomes of learning within the subject culture. Equally taken for granted are what counts as success in the subject, how it is achieved, and how it is known. 3. The relationship to wider contexts. Subject cultures are differently situated in terms of their wider contexts and how they relate to them. The most important of these contexts are the curriculum requirements and the subject’s place in the pecking order of the school, both of which may impact critically on their access to and use of ICT. 4. The relationship between technology, pedagogy, and curriculum content. (University of Bristol, 2010a) These dimensions share many points of similarity with the principles extracted from the Beyond Current Horizons program. The contextualization of technology within wider frameworks or within curriculum, pedagogy, and subject culture is particularly noteworthy. It is worth exploring the musical implications of these dimensions a little. Perhaps difficult and uncomfortable questions need to be asked. In respect of sunk costs, how can we ensure that the future material and symbolic investments we buy into with technology resound clearly with the notions of why music education is important and of value for all young people? In respect of modes of learning, is successful engagement in processes such as musical performance or composition the same when technologies are involved? What are the potential losses or gains within such a process? Is it important that all children learn to play an instrument? What exactly is the different between a traditional instrument and a digital instrument? In respect of issues surrounding pedagogy and curriculum content, to what extent will new technologies take the focus away from the teacher and encourage more informal, independent learning? Should this be encouraged?

Driving Forward Technology’s Imprint on Music Education

187

The findings of the University of Bristol study are presented online through groupings of materials produced by each Subject Design Team (University of Bristol, 2010b). Key findings from each team pointed to the importance of the teacher and the ways in which technology is incorporated into their pedagogy. This emphasises the importance of the ecological setting of classrooms and how a mixture of teachers’ subject and pedagogical understandings act as filters during planning, practice and reflection. (Sutherland & John, 2005, p. 411)

The role of the teacher was fundamental in incorporating technology within the classroom. But this is not straightforward. John (2005) identifies a range of powerful, historical forces that can mitigate against this: Much of the current debate around the educational value and purpose of ICT can be set within the “generic” (or pedagogic) modes that have a tendency to functionalise education. This interpretation has led to a “cultures in tension” explanation for the resistance of accepted subject sub-​cultures to the incorporation of ICT into their curricular and pedagogic processes. These conflicting rationales have led to a number of explanations including subject resistance (Finlayson & Perry, 1995), techno-​phobia (Selwyn et al., 2003) and “technological colonisation” (Goodson & Mangen, 1995, p. 626). At the core of this is “cultures in tension,” the idea that the particular discourses that have dominated the educational landscape for more than a century and a half have been thrown into sharp relief by the rise of digital technologies. (John, 2005, p. 471)

Clearly, much of the angst is evidence of a lack of thinking in respect of principles 3 and 4. In the future, if we are to avoid this tension between music education and our use of technology within it, it will be important to find ways to ensure that potentially negative aspects of technological use are minimized, and to ensure that our critical thinking about the purposes and function for music education is kept under constant review. One of the ways that John suggests we can utilize to avoid music education retracting and consolidating within itself is to explore the use of a metaphor to help build bridges between music, technology, and other subject cultures. His metaphor of “trading zones” helpfully examines what he calls the “borderlands” between subjects and technology within which certain types of “transactions” can take place. Using Galison’s anthropological work as a starting point (Galison, 1997), John explores the various subject subcultures within physics, analyzing the various trading that takes place between theoreticians, experimentalists, and engineers. He concludes: Exchanges between sub-​cultures can be compared to the incomplete and partial relations which are established when different tribes come together for trading purposes. Each tribe can bring things to the “trading space” and take things away; even sacred objects can be offered up and exchanged. This trading process also gives rise to new contact languages which are locally understood and co-​ ordinated. (John, 2005, pp. 485–​486)

188Jonathan Savage John suggests that the use of this “trading zone” metaphor can help us understand more fully the transitory and evolving relationship between a subject culture and the technologies that are brought to bear on it. The boundary between music education and technology becomes permeable in such a model, with notions of success depending on the perceived value associated with the presented ideas, and the way the participants act on these and understand them. John is anticipating an evolutionary space, one in which the every element becomes interdependent: “Transaction spaces” are evolutionary where the affordances and constraints of the situation, the tools, and the setting can facilitate further interaction as well as limit it. To occupy a “trading zone” does not mean abandoning one’s “sacred” disciplinary “home” nor allowing the “profane” to dominate the exchange; rather it respects subtle negotiation and accommodation (Wertsch, 2003; Claxton et al., 2003) processes that encourage multiple and modified identities to emerge over time. (John, 2005, pp. 485–​486)

Technology-​mediated exchanges or interactions of the type John is anticipating are something that music educators should aspire to develop in their work with technology. As we will see below, at their peak they may lead to opportunities for the emergence and establishment of new musical languages and pedagogies, locally situated and, perhaps, of value and understood only to those directly involved (but no less educationally valuable because of this). But this will only happen when the items or “objects” that are being exchanged are of value. It is worth pausing and pondering what the “sacred objects” of music education are. Are we prepared to offer them up within such an exchange and allow them to be negotiated with or compromised? Looking around educational initiatives today, there are plenty of examples of low-​value (“profane”) exchanges being done in the transactional space we inhabit. These are characterized by pieces of curriculum development that merge music down to its lowest common denominator, underplaying the well-​established strengths of its subject culture and replacing these with hastily constructed and musically meaningless uses of technology which disempower teachers and cut short the opportunities for their students’ learning. In contrast, high-​value exchanges will result in meaningful developments in music education that center on attributes that underpin ongoing teacher development. As John’s conclusions assert: If this agenda is to materialise then schools and subjects need time to adjust to using ICT, to explore its possibilities and to engage with its affordances as well as understanding its constraints. Additionally, certain conditions need to be prevalent if the further blending of technology and pedagogy within subjects is to flourish. These conditions are dependent on a number of characteristics, all of which, according to Eraut (2000), are regarded as fundamental to the creation of a suitable organisational microclimate. They include:





• A blame free culture; • Learning from experiences—​positive and negative—​at both group and individual levels; • Trying to make full use of the various knowledge resources held by members; • Encouraging talk about learning;

Driving Forward Technology’s Imprint on Music Education

189

• Locating and using relevant knowledge from outside the group; • Enhancing and extending understandings and capabilities of both the group as a whole and its individual members. (John, 2005, pp. 484–​485)

Please note this emphasis on collaboration. We will be coming back to this later in the chapter.

Developing a New Language of Music Ears become wired And minds become strong because You’re speaking the language, The language of music, The door is now open To learn how to speak.

Young’s poem (2003), built as it is around key terms and phrases from the United Kingdom’s National Curriculum for Music document, is, in itself, a reminder that creativity can be inspired in the strangest of places. Within future, transactional spaces, one hope is that music educators will be able to facilitate and develop a new language of music that, whilst respecting and acknowledging the subject culture that underpins it, is inspired by the greater degree of access and equality of opportunities that new technologies can bring. Alex, a sound designer from south Manchester, first alerted me to this new, technologically inspired musical language (Savage, 2005b). At the time I had just completed my own Ph.D. studies and had embarked on my first postdoctoral piece of research into the practice and pedagogy of songwriting. I met Alex and interviewed him at his studio, in the basement of his house under the shadow of Old Trafford, the Manchester United Football Club’s stadium.2 Interviewing Alex was a life-​changing moment. Through his use of technology, he had not just opened the door but blasted it off its hinges and learnt how to speak with a musical fluency and passion that was peculiarly infectious. Here was someone whose music education was the exact opposite of mine; no formal qualifications, no instrumental or conservatoire training; no “advanced” level musical studies. Yet his breadth of musical knowledge and experience put my own to shame; his compositional and improvisational abilities were outstanding; his ability to analyze, reflect on, and communicate his musical intentions were breath-​taking. What had facilitated these skills in him? What was his source of inspiration? The short answer was “music”: Music is—​how can I describe it, it’s so many things—​it really has saved me from a life that—​its hard to explain. I grew up on an estate in Edinburgh and I used to get in quite a lot of trouble. Music saved me from a path that I could see leading to destruction and for that I’m very grateful. So I tend to treat music as a very

190Jonathan Savage good friend. It’s something that’s helped me to communicate with people, to express myself. It’s a language that you can relate to people from different nations. It transcends limitations. (Alex, in interview; Savage, 2005b)

It was interesting that Alex did not respond to this question with the answer “technology.” Technology, for Alex, was the tool, a powerful, facilitating tool that allowed him access to the world of music in a way that other tools had prevented. At the time of my initial meetings with Alex, much of his musical language was, in John’s terms, “locally understood and co-​ordinated” (John, 2005, p. 486). However, in the intervening years, Alex has worked hard on his musical language and has become a leading international sound designer. It has allowed him to transcend the “limitations” of his early educational and musical experiences. Now, Alex is a successful, professional composer and sound designer in a highly competitive commercial market. He speaks an articulate musical language that, importantly, is his own, authentic style (forged through the use of his technological tools). Music was the key for Alex. But technology played its part, too. As we will see below, ensuring that these two elements remain fused together in an appropriately balanced relationship will be key to ensuring that more young people become passionate about their own musical language.

Relocating Musical Knowledge, Skills, and Understanding In preparing for this chapter, I was reflecting on my conversations with Alex. A recurring theme was the way in which technology had allowed him to access the processes of musical performance, composition, and improvisation in new ways. Technology had facilitated an approach to the development of musical knowledge, skills, and understanding but in ways that did not depend on traditional musical assumptions, language, or pedagogies. They had been relocated in his mind. He had approached and engaged with them from a different direction. One of the outcomes of this process was that Alex talked about his music in a language quite different from my own. It was characterized by visual metaphors, by analogies drawn from different art forms (including contemporary cinema and dance) as well as anthropological studies. John’s anthropological approach to the establishment of new languages within trading zones (John, 2005, p.486) is an interesting metaphor through which one could analyze Alex’s musical education. The language discourse of music technology is, in itself, highly metaphorical and makes connections across a range of trading zones. As an example, an analysis of language within a typical piece of sequencing software will uncover terminology such as cut, copy, and paste (all of which are found within word processing and video editing software). More

Driving Forward Technology’s Imprint on Music Education

191

widely, metaphorical links between music and art have a long history and have underpinned many cultural movements (Maur, 1999). Alex’s inquisitive mind had led him to make all kinds of interesting connections of this type. Many of these became inspirations for his compositional work. Alex’s work and John’s metaphor lead me to consider to what extent music technology should be a distinct area of study. In many curriculum frameworks within the United Kingdom, students get the opportunity to study either “music” or” music technology.” Both areas are underpinned by identifiably discrete, yet artificial, sets of assumptions about the knowledge, skills, and understanding that are important. Personally, I am worried by this degree of separation. For some, it seems to imply an upper and lower tier of musical engagement and perhaps even a degree of snobbery. This is very subtle and often hard to notice. But I think it sounds something like this: Interviewer:  Tell me about your use of music technology in the department . . . Teacher 1:  We have a range of technology for students who struggle to play a musical instrument. It is about providing them with an opportunity to play and compose music. Interviewer:  What about those students who play a musical instrument? Teacher 1:  Why would they want to use technology? They can play already.

Or this: Interviewer:  How do you decide who gets to study for a GCSE3 in Music? Teacher 2:  The students can choose to do it. Interviewer:  Is that it? Are there any conditions? Teacher 2:  Not really. As long as they can play an instrument to a basic level I’m happy to let them do it. Interviewer:  What do you mean by a “basic level’? Teacher 2:  About Grade 54 by the time they get to the end of Year 11. That’s the standard the exam board sets. Interviewer:  Really? What about music technology? Can they use that instead? Teacher 2:  No, that’s not really the same is it? They can use that as well but perhaps it is better covered in other courses we run.

(Both interviews were conducted by the author as part of a research and development project funded by the Training & Development Agency; reported in Savage, 2007). To my mind, there should be no distinction between music and music technology as areas of knowledge and practice. Future approaches to music education with technology need to be placed firmly alongside traditional music studies. There is no difference. Having established this, musical studies need to be placed more firmly within a cross-​curricular approach to teaching and learning. This is not about watering down a subject culture through bland and mediocre curriculum collaborations. It is about individual teachers developing powerful, cross-​ curricular pedagogies that are outward looking, underpinning by a centrifugal perspective (Savage, 2010c). It will see individual teachers wanting to maximize the

192Jonathan Savage opportunities for contextualizing musical learning within a broader framework of teaching and learning, and responding positively to the new affordances of technological tools in ways that enhance, enrich, and extend traditional approaches within their subject culture. This moves us on to my final point.

Facilitating Educational Collaborations From this powerful base, individual teachers can engage in meaningful collaborations with teachers within their subject cultures and, importantly, those outside. One of the key future challenges facing educational communities will be the creation of opportunities for teachers to debate and discuss the educational purposes for, and philosophy underpinning, new technological approaches to teaching and learning. Teachers need to have a meaningful say in this ongoing debate, challenging and critiquing ideas so that the future shape of curriculum initiatives have a greater degree of shared ownership and, it is hoped, a wider impact. Facer calls this a “curriculum for networked learning” and defines it as “enabling individuals to learn to work effectively within social networks for educational, social and civic purposes and to develop strategies to establish and mobilise social networks for their own purposes” (2009, p. 7). For teachers and learners, the degree of personalization within such a network is significant and should allow for the development of powerful processes for the development of subject knowledge and curriculum development. It will also facilitate the cross-​subject exchanges or transactions that we have been discussing. From the perspective of the learner (and this would include teachers as well as students), such a curriculum might comprise of opportunities for:

• Learning and working within meaningful sociotechnical networks not wholly within single educational institutions • Being assessed in interaction with tools, resources, and collaborators • Developing capacities to manage information and intellectual property, building reputation and trust, developing experience of working remotely and in mediated environments • Creating new, personalized learning networks • Reflecting on how learning is connected with other areas of personal, social, and working lives, as well asmanaging and negotiating these relationships • Exploring the human-​machine relationships involved in socio-​technical networks (Facer, 2009, p. 7)

The days of the individual teacher, teaching their individual subject in their own classroom, with the door closed to the majority of others outside, are clearly numbered. Key technological developments have already facilitated a significant shift

Driving Forward Technology’s Imprint on Music Education

193

in individual subject cultures, curriculum design, and delivery. The role of technology within teaching and learning is powerful. Allying technology to the promotion of a cross-​curricular approach to teaching and learning makes sense in many ways, not least in the educational benefits that it brings to students and teachers and the way that it reflects the wider use of technology outside the world of education. Networking and collaborative approaches are a key way forward.

Conclusion Change is now a constant condition in our education system, reflecting changes in the wider world. This has implications for teacher identity and role. What sort of teacher development is needed in order to keep pace with such change? We have to ask ourselves whether we want a mere “retooling” of teacher competencies for specific purposes, or an approach that supports a renaissance in teacher development for an uncertain future. This is not about making an industrial process more efficient; rather, it is about enabling cultural change in the profession (Futurelab, 2006, p. 39). What will the future of music education look like? How will the use of technology shape and mediate the educational processes that underpin it? It would be a bold writer who would predict, with any certainty, the changes and technological developments that our educational futures will contain. This chapter has not focused on this type of guesswork (educated or otherwise). But some things seem certain. Technological change continues to move at a fast pace. Earlier in the chapter we considered the Beyond Current Horizons research project. We looked together at some of the key principles that informed the research, arguing that they were good foundations for our work in re-​imagining the use of technology within music education. I argued that future implementations of technology in music education require us to make continued challenges to the assumptions of music education, whether they are related to the philosophy or practice of music education. Technological determinism should be avoided at all costs. Future pedagogies of music education with technology need to connect to the broader aims and responsibilities of education generally and musically. Similarly, technological rhetoric is unhelpful and creates divisions in educational approaches that we should be seeking to heal. Beyond Current Horizons is supported by a set of online resources (DCSF & Futurelab, 2009). A  central plank in these is the modeling of various educational scenarios. These scenarios “are stories of three different possible futures, imagining how the world could look after 2025, in order to challenge assumptions and stimulate thinking about the present” (DCSF & Futurelab, 2009). The scenarios are structured around three different, potential worlds. Each of these worlds has a different set of social values. These include increasingly individualized, increasingly collective, or increasingly contested approaches towards life and education. Reading through

194Jonathan Savage these scenarios is a very worthwhile activity. The key questions at the end of this chapter will help you do this and apply aspects of these scenarios to music education. The Futurelab report quoted above argues for a change in approach for teachers’ professional development with technology. It acknowledges that the processes by which teachers learn about new technologies are complicated and constricted in various ways. But the possibilities for real change in the system do exist. If we can bring the technologies into situations that resonate strongly with teachers’ sense of professional and moral purposes, we may yet see what might truly prove to be a renaissance, in which teachers would employ digital technologies for ‘understanding, reflection, ingenuity and creativity,’ and, through these, support their own learning in new ways. (Futurelab, 2006, p. 41; italics added)

The best chances of technology having a positive educational impact lie with teachers aligning these powerful tools to their own sense of professional purpose. One could say that there will be no technological development without teacher development. The writers’ suggestion is that as teachers’ own learning is supported through a more cohesive system, they will become more adept at creating interesting opportunities for learning with and through digital technologies for their students. The classification of natives and immigrants within the digital revolution (Prensky, 2001, pp. 2–​3) is well known. Digital natives “speak the digital language of computers, video games and the Internet,” whilst digital immigrants have been “fascinated by and adopted many or most aspects of the new technology but always retain, to some degree, their ‘accent,’ that is, their foot in the past” (Prensky, 2001, pp.  1–​2). Whilst research suggested that many teachers see themselves as competent in this area (Savage, 2007), a large number continue to struggle not just in the development of their own skills with ICT but also in applying these within curricula contexts (Savage, 2010b). The individualization of music education within our schools means that there are few opportunities for the collaborative and networking required to initiate and sustain meaningful change. Music education with technology, in this context, faces a continued danger of localization and colloquialism. However, the broad notions of digital immigrant and digital native are too simplistic. Studies by Bennet, Maton, and Kervin (2008) have shown that there might be as much variation in technology use within the generation defined as digital natives as those that could be found between the generation of digital natives and digital immigrants. Within music education, Salavuo has discussed similar issues (Salavuo, 2008). During the course of completing a piece of research, I presented some of these ideas to a group of students who were completing their course of initial teacher education. A lively discussion ensued during which one student responded that he did not feel like a digital native or a digital immigrant. He felt like a digital “expat.” Afterward, when questioned further, he wrote: I go somewhere digital, stay there and never get to know the surrounding areas. Definitely room for cyber improvement where this inexperienced little piggy is

Driving Forward Technology’s Imprint on Music Education

195

concerned. What I don’t know may injure me in schools in the upcoming weeks. (Savage, 2009)

This highlights another obvious danger. Digital “expats” can find comfort in their digital surroundings and may find it difficult to move on, too. The dangers of complacency are just as real for the digital native as they are for the digital immigrant.

Reflective Questions







1. It is wise to look ahead, but as Churchill asserts, it is difficult to look further than you can see. What tools can you adopt to aid your ability to see further? To what extent have the tools contained within this chapter aided your sight? 2. There is a balance between looking backward and looking forward. One of the chapter’s key assertions is that future actions need to be contextualized within a clear understanding of wider frameworks and assumptions. To what extent does your knowledge of present-​day educational contexts and the assumptions that underpin them prepare you for future applications of technology within music education? 3. What is the imprint of technology on music education? 4. What are the elements of music’s subject culture that facilitate or constrain the adoption of technological tools within it? What is sacred within music education and can technology touch this in any way? 5. Collaborations are powerful but difficult to sustain. To what extent can new models of collaboration within music education be facilitated? What role can technology play in helping build new, meaningful collaborative networks? 6. Having read the chapter, what are your thoughts about a possible, probable, or preferred model of music education with technology in the future?

KEY SOURCES Facer, K. (2009). Educational, social and technological futures: A report from the beyond current horizons programme. London: DCSF & Futurelab. Facer, K., & Sandford, R. (2010). The next 25 years? Future scenarios and future directions for education and technology. Journal of Computer Assisted Learning, 26, 74–​93. John, P. (2005). The Sacred and the Profane: Subject sub-​culture, pedagogical practice and teachers’ perceptions of the classroom uses of ICT. Educational Review, 57(4), 469–​488. Savage, J. (2010). Cross-​ curricular teaching and learning in the secondary school. London: Routledge.

196Jonathan Savage

WEBSITES Department for Children Schools and Families (DCSF) & Futurelab (2009). Beyond current horizons. http://​www.beyondcurrenthorizons.org.uk/​ [accessed July 7, 2009]. Education Futures Timeline. http://​www.educationfutures.com/​resources/​timeline/​. Futurelab. (2006). Teachers’ learning with digital technologies:  A review of research and projects. Bristol: Futurelab. Available at http://​www.futurelab.org.uk/​resources [accessed November 24, 2017]. The Future of Education. http://​www.futureofeducation.com/​ [accessed November 24, 2017].

NOTES 1. It is also interesting to note, however, that more recent research in this area has identified that excellence in teacher’s subject knowledge is one of the key attributes for successful developments of cross-​curricular teaching and learning (CIDREE, 2005). 2. The Old Trafford ground is, rather appropriately to this context, often referred to as the “theatre of dreams.” 3. The GCSE is a General Certificate in Secondary Education, normally taken by students at the end of Year 11 (age 15–​16) in the UK educational system. 4. Grade 5 refers to a particular level within the instrumental examination system run by groups such as the Associated Boards of the Royal Schools of Music within the United Kingdom.

REFERENCES Apple. (2009). http://​www.apple.com/​iphone/​appstore/​ [accessed November 24, 2017]. Bell, W. (1997). Foundations of futures studies. London: Transaction Publishers. Bennet, S., Maton, K., & Kervin, L. (2008). The “digital natives” debate: A critical review of the evidence. British Journal of Educational Technology, 39(5), 775–​786. Cain, T. (2004). Theory, technology and the music curriculum. British Journal of Music Education 21(2), 215–​221. CIDREE. (2005). Cross-​curricular themes in secondary education: Report of a CIDREE collaborative project. Sint-​Katelijne-​Waver (Belgium), CIDREE. Available at www.cidree. be/​uploads/​documentenbank/​4854365076a88c8ba93cbebe04fd9196.pdf [accessed July 20, 2009]. Claxton, G., Pollard, A. & Sutherland, R. (2003). Fishing in the fog: Conceptualising learning at the confluence of cultures. In R. Sutherland, G. Claxton, & A. Pollard (eds.), Learning and teaching: Where world views meet (pp. 1–​13). London: Trentham Books. Cooper, B. (1983). On explaining change in school subjects. British Journal of Sociology of Education, 4(3), 207–​222. DCSF & Futurelab. (2009). Beyond current horizons. http://​www.beyondcurrenthorizons. org.uk/​[last accessed 24/​7/​09].

Driving Forward Technology’s Imprint on Music Education

197

Draper, P. (2008). Music two-​point-​zero:  Music, technology and digital independence. Journal of Music, Technology and Education, 1(2–​3), 137–​152. Facer, K. (2009). Educational, social and technological futures:  A report from the beyond current horizons programme. London: DCSF & Futurelab. Facer, K., & Sandford, R. (2010). The next 25 years? Future scenarios and future directions for education and technology. Journal of Computer Assisted Learning, 26, 74–​93. Federation of Music Services (FMS). (2010). Wow, it’s music next. Full report available from http://​www.thefms.org/​ [accessed November 24, 2017]. Finlayson, H. & Perry, A. (1995) Turning Sceptics into Missionaries: the case for compulsory information technology courses. Journal of Information Technology for Teacher Education, 4, 351–​361. Fitzsimmons, C. (2009, March 13). Government outlines digital rights agency proposal. Guardian. http://​www.guardian.co.uk/​media/​2009/​mar/​13/​uk-​government-​ outlinesdigital-​rights-​agency [accessed March 20, 2009]. Futurelab. (2006). Teachers’ learning with digital technologies:  A review of research and projects. Bristol: Futurelab. Available at http://​www.futurelab.org.uk/​resources [accessed November 24, 2017]. Galison, P. (1997). Image and logic: The material culture of micro-​physics. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Goodson, I. F., & Mangen, J. M. (1995). Subject Cultures and the Introduction of Classroom Computers. British Education Research Journal, 21(5), 613–​628. Goodson, I. F., & Mangen, J. M. (1998). Subject cultures and the introduction of classroom computers. In I. F. Goodson (ed.), Subject knowledge:  Readings for the study of school subjects (pp. 105–​121). London: Falmer Press. Graham, F. (2009). Disability no barrier to gaming. BBC News, http://​news.bbc.co.uk/​1/​hi/​ technology/​7935336.stm [accessed November 24, 2017]. Jenkins, H., Purushotma, R., Clinton, K., Weigel, M., & Robison, A. J. (2007). Confronting the challenges of participatory culture: Media education for the 21stcentury. An occasional paper on digital media and learning. Chicago: MacArthur Foundation. Jephcote, M., & Davies, B. (2007). School subjects, subject communities and curriculum change:  The social construction of economics in the school curriculum. Cambridge Journal of Education, 37(2), 207–​227. John, P. (2005). The sacred and the profane: Subject sub-​culture, pedagogical practice and teachers’ perceptions of the classroom uses of ICT. Educational Review 57(4), 469–​488. Maur, K. (1999). The sound of painting: Music in modern art. London & New York: Prestel. Ofsted. (2009). Making more of music. London:  Ofsted. http://​www.ofsted.gov.uk/​Ofsted-​ home/​Publications-​and-​research/​Browse-​all-​by/​Documents-​by-​type/​Thematic-​reports/​ Making-​more-​of-​music-​an-​evaluation-​of-​music-​inschools-​2005–​08. Prensky, M. (2001). Digital natives, digital immigrants. On the Horizon, NCB University Press, 9(5), 1–​6. QCA. (2007). The national curriculum:  Statutory requirements for key stages 3 and 4. London: QCA. Reimer, B. (1994). Is musical performance worth saving? Arts Education Policy Review, 95(3), 2–​12. Salavuo, M. (2008). Are university students digital natives? http://​weblog.siba.fi/​msalavuo/​ 2008/​09/​12/​are-​university-​students-​digital-​natives/​ [accessed March 20, 2009]. Savage, J. (2010a). New report on the “benefits” of instrumental learning. http://​jsavage.org. uk/​?p=539 [accessed November 24, 2017].

198Jonathan Savage Savage, J. (2010b). A survey of ICT usage across English secondary schools. Music Education Research, 12(1), 47–​62. Savage, J. (2010c). Cross-​ curricular teaching and learning in the secondary school. London: Routledge. Savage, J. (2009). Are you a digital native? http://​jsavage.org.uk/​?p=202?more-​202 [accessed November 24, 2017]. Savage, J. (2007). Reconstructing music education through ICT. Research in Education, 78, 65–​77. Savage, J. (2005a). Is musical performance worth saving? http://​www.music-​ite.org.uk/​files/​ articles/​musical-​performance.pdf [accessed February 1, 2010]. Savage, J. (2005b). Information communications technologies as a tool for re-​imagining music education in the 21st century. International Journal of Education & the Arts, 6(2). http://​ijea.asu.edu/​v6n2/​. Savage, J. (2004). Working towards a theory for music technologies in the classroom: How students engage with and organise sounds with new technologies. British Journal of Music Education, 22(2), 167–​180. Selwyn, N. (2003). Apart from technology: understanding people’s non-​use of information and communication technologies in everyday life. Technology in Society, 25, 99–​116. Spear, M., Gould, K., & Lee, B. (2000). Who would be a teacher? A  review of factors motivating and demotivating prospective and practising teachers. Slough, UK: NFER. Stenhouse, L. (1980). Curriculum research and development in action. London: Heinemann Educational. Sutherland, R., & John, P. (2005). Affordance, opportunity and the pedagogical implications of ICT. Educational Review, 57(4), 405–​413. University of Bristol (2010a). InterActive Education Project: Subject cultures. http://​www. interactiveeducation.ac.uk/​sub_​cult.htm [accessed January 8, 2010]. University of Bristol (2010b). InterActive Education Project:  Learning. http://​www. interactiveeducation.ac.uk/​learning.htm [accessed January 8, 2010]. Van Manen, M. (1977). Linking ways of knowing with ways of being practical. Curriculum Inquiry, 6(3), 205–​228. Wertsch, J. (2003). Dimensions of culture-​ clash. In R. Sutherland, G. Claxton, & A. Pollard (eds.), Learning and teaching:  Where world views meet (pp. 273–​ 282). London: Trentham Books. Young, M. (2003). The language of music. On Yamaha Kemble & Virtual Learning Environments Foundation Found Sound (CD-​ROM). www.foundsound.org [accessed January 5, 2005].

Part 3

MEDIA, MUSIC, AND EDUCATION Part Editor Matthew D. Thibeault

Chapter 12

COMMENTARY: MEDIA, MUSIC, AND EDUCATION Matthew D. Thibeault

Much has happened in the time since these chapters first appeared in the second volume of the Oxford Handbook of Music Education. The profession mourned the passing of Steve Dillon, whose chapter has been updated by his coauthor Andrew Brown. This new edition provides valuable updates, particularly given the rate of change in media and technology. While these updates are helpful, each chapter remains largely focused on core issues that are likely to remain relevant. While more attention is now being paid to media in research, particularly digital media, this section remains the first collection devoted to media among the numerous music education handbooks. The authors make clear the importance and value for music education of media, both as a field of study and as a set of practices shaped by technology. Representing a global cross-​section from Australia to Finland to the United States, the ideas help practitioners in our field make more informed decisions as we acknowledge the influence of media in our lives. Although media involve cutting-​edge ideas, the digital age has deep roots. Chapter 13 (my chapter) provides a narrative tracing of the arc of media in society and education over 100 years, from media to mass media, to new media. I characterize music education as operating within a postperformance world and suggest that attention to this reality allows an expansion and resituating of practices. Evan S.  Tobias (­chapter  14) explores the ways that video games and virtual worlds occasion learning. Presenting a view of video games as digital literacies, he

202

Matthew D. Thibeault

reviews the background and current scope of games. Tobias builds a strong case for “modding” music education through continued research in this area. The educational advantages of ensembles working with generative media systems are presented by Andrew R. Brown and Steven C. Dillon (­chapter 15) in their chapter. Focusing on the jam2jam system they created, which provides an easy entry point for networked jamming, they outline activities that add cultural and pedagogical value through digital media. Finally, S. Alex Ruthmann and David G. Hebert (­chapter 16) explore some of the ways that music learning and new media exist in virtual and online environments. Their chapter delves deep into some of the themes and concepts inherent in this new realm, some of the qualities of virtuality to be found, and the implications of online and hybrid approaches to learning. Informal learning and social media are explored, including emerging models of musicianship found in social networks. The parts of this section provide a glimpse into some of the many ways music education might continue to expand and grow with and through media. By grounding theoretical and philosophical ideas with empirical findings, it frames questions for researchers to explore, as well as avenues practitioners will pave. Given the richness of the horizon, we hope learners will find themselves on journeys that we can only dream of, in spaces we can still only begin to imagine.

Chapter 13

MUSIC EDUCATION IN THE POSTPERFORMANCE WORLD Matthew D. Thibeault

The Birmingham Festival in England, 1852, included in its audience the U.S. music educator Lowell Mason. Then 60 years old, he was delighted to finally hear a performance of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, which had premiered in 1824 when Mason was 32. Today, we can only begin to imagine waiting 28  years to first encounter a piece of such acclaim, although his account captures the sense of the evening’s importance: We had never heard this greatest work of Beethoven, having unfortunately missed it in several places in Germany. From its great reputation, we were more anxious to hear this than any other piece announced for the festival. . . . Costa [the conductor] was received with more than an ordinary welcome; a little anxiety upon his brow was apparent. He looked around; every eye was fixed upon the baton;—​it moved—​and the revelations of Beethoven were being made known to an eager and closely attentive multitude of listeners. (Mason, 1854, p. 240)

Nearly 150 years later, I attended my first performance of the Ninth as a bassist performing with a college orchestra as part of the millennial year 2000 celebrations. Unlike Mason, I cannot recall a time when I was not intimately familiar with the work. Many times a year I heard the “Ode to Joy” theme in a commercial, in a music class, in a video game, broadcast on the radio or TV, in a film (like A Clockwork Orange), or as part of my own early instrumental playing. Like many, I  was so

204

Matthew D. Thibeault

familiar with the Ninth that it was easy to ignore. I played my family’s CD of the Cleveland Orchestra’s interpretation hundreds of times, often as background music while completing homework. The opportunity to be part of a live performance of the Ninth was exciting and fulfilling, but it is only a minuscule part of my lifelong engagement with the work through various media, and the concert experience was colored and clouded with thousands of other associations. This chapter explores how these two aforementioned live performances of the Ninth need to be understood as having a radically different meaning because of the larger context of media in society. The differences I wish to explore in terms of music, musician, audience, and educational implications are made salient by examining music from a media perspective. They result in the conclusion that our present world might best be characterized as postperformance. To claim that ours is a postperformance world is to attend to three current realities:  (1) that most of our experiences with music today occur through recordings rather than live performances; (2) that many pieces of music produced today originate in studio practices that separate audience from performer, resulting in recordings with a degree of sampling or synthesis that made live performance impossible; and (3) that our orientation to listening is changed by the prevalence of media. This claim is parallel to the posttonal world, where tonality is an option but not a requirement or the only reality. In short, to invoke postperformance is to note that performance is sometimes an option but often an impossibility, and rarely the avenue by which we experience music. This chapter attends to this situation and its educational implications. Over the course of the twentieth century, it has become possible to understand music as media. This allows for attention to the larger culture within which music is situated, and to the profound changes within culture that grew from industrialization and mechanization. Among the many narratives that can be constructed from the events of the last 100 years, this chapter describes how media moved from being understood as an intrusion on reality around the 1930s, to mass media being celebrated for its potential in the 1960s, to the undisputed transformation of society by new media in the present day. I address the impact of industrialization on the arts, the stance of education toward commercialization in media, and the potential for estrangement of the artist and audience through mass media by focusing on key ideas and canonic works across the twentieth century. I also explore the extension of the human body and consciousness through media, the continued reexamination of the interplay between recorded music of the studio and live performance, and the early emergence of techniques that would become key in new media. A central opportunity for music educators lies in the ability to reconsider our practices as a result of examination of the postperformance world from a media standpoint. We may continue our embrace of the viewpoint that live performance should be a center of attention and admiration for music education, but with new ways to talk about what is special about live performance, as well as to liberate performance from its more prosaic functions, just as photography liberated painters

Music Education in the Postperformance World

205

from portraiture. We may additionally find ways to reframe performance in the experience of learners. A media perspective also offers educators a rationale for the inclusion of practices that currently exist on the edges, or wholly outside, our profession, such as remixing, recording, and making multimedia art (Burnard, 2012). Media differs from technology. The ideas that come from media are inextricably linked with technology, but they organize a set of concerns in a different way. Technologies provide the practical application of theoretical ideas, from the alphabet through the printing press to the internet. Discussions from the perspective of technology are possible and valuable, as demonstrated throughout this volume. However, media brings a different set of concerns, namely, questions about the uses, implications, and new aggregations of society that emerge in interplay with technologies. This chapter begins its exploration with the early awareness of media in the 1930s.

Media as Intrusion in the 1930s The rise of the postperformance world was gradual beginning in the late nineteenth century, with media one dimension of substantial cultural shifts. The broad brushstrokes are familiar as increased mechanization and industrialization extended society from the farm to the factory. Migration and immigration resulted in urbanization. These contributed to broad societal changes. The term media, in regular use since the sixteenth century to refer broadly to intermediaries, now applied to broadcast technologies such as newspaper, radio, and film (Williams, 1985). Music was part of the growth of media. Player pianos allowed the mechanical duplication and dissemination of virtuoso performances with ease, and wax cylinders (and later 78 rpm records) preserved audio and allowed it to be transported across space and time with ease. Radio broadcasts connected people to distant performances and allowed music to reach a large audience. Music ceased being exclusively immediate, intimate, and ephemeral. John Philip Sousa (1906) captured the early anxiety and the sense of intrusion or threat felt by many musicians in his essay “The Menace of Mechanical Music,” with cartoons asking questions such as “Will the infant be put to sleep by machinery?” (p. 280) and, in discussing recording technology, “Does it go about to seek whom it may devour?” (p. 284). Born before the advent of music recording, Sousa feared it would devour artists, their music, their copyright, and their very livelihood. The implications of industrialization on art were insightfully explored across the Western world during the 1930s, in the aftermath of technologically aided massacres of the optimistically named “War to End All Wars” and in the shadow of the rise of fascism. In Cambridge, England, the critic F. R. Leavis published Culture and Environment (1933). One year later, in New York, John Dewey published Art as Experience (1934/​1980), with the last chapter, “Art and Civilization,” devoted largely

206

Matthew D. Thibeault

to technological change at the societal level. Lastly, fleeing Germany for France after the rise of the Nazi Party, Walter Benjamin published his essay “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction” (1935/​1986). These works allow us to reenter a time when now familiar changes were still strange, threatening, and inchoate. Leavis, a poet and critic, was concerned with the potential for the population to be swayed by media and advertising. His book is the first call for educators to consider approaches that might inoculate students from the persuasion of media. Leavis wanted education that helped students navigate a media environment where they were viewed as targets for advertising. Responding to a particularly crass statement from an executive who hoped to cultivate generations of beer drinkers, Leavis wrote, “it is plain a modern education worthy of the name must be largely an education against the environment of which this passage is representative” (1933, p. 106). He identified a problem still applicable, namely, that teachers who focus on great works from an aesthetic standpoint may miss the larger danger for students who spend most of their time in a culture adept at subtle persuasion. For Leavis, it was not enough to teach the art form; one must adopt an oppositional stance toward commercialism. Industry and mass production were predicated on the creation of a need within the populace; “if anything like a worthy idea of satisfactory living is to be saved, he [the citizen] must be trained to discriminate and to resist” (p. 5). John Dewey located vast changes in the arts emanating from forces that changed institutions and beliefs: These two forces are natural science and its application in industry and commerce through machinery and the use of nonhuman modes of energy. In consequence, the question of the place and role of art in contemporary civilization demands notice of its relations to science and to the social consequences of machine industry. (1934/​1980, p. 337)

The consequences of machinery and science not only changed the kinds of products available and the likelihood they were made by hand. By their ubiquity they also provided an entirely different world to inhabit, one filled with mechanically produced experiences. Dewey pointed out that art grows out of lived experience, and how fundamentally human experiences were changing: The running brook, the greensward, the forms associated with a rural environment, are losing their place as the primary material of experience . . .. Even the objects of the natural landscape come to be “apperceived” in terms of the spatial relations characteristic of objects the design of which is due to mechanical modes of production; buildings, furnishings, wares. (Dewey, 1934/​1980, p. 342)

Like Leavis’s, Dewey’s statement continues to resonate, raising the issue of the ways that our mechanically produced works recreate the spaces we inhabit. Already, a local singer was in competition with radio, but Dewey notes that both were heard by an audience conditioned to the urban soundscape. The rest of the century would

Music Education in the Postperformance World

207

continue to expand on this central notion that we see and hear the world as a result of culture and environment, and the ways that our very senses are constructed by these experiences. While Leavis discussed education and Dewey focused on society, Walter Benjamin produced a canonic essay of modern aesthetics by focusing on the distinction between unique art works and those technologically reproduced. His central argument concerns the notion of “aura”: the unique time, place, and history of a work of art such as a painting or stage performance; a uniqueness that can never be located in a film, photo, or compact disc. We can tell the physical history of the Sistine Chapel, or a Brancusi sculpture, but there is no original Marx Brothers’ Duck Soup. Benjamin dates the rise of mechanical reproduction from ancient Greek coins and terracotta, but says that only the present age can be characterized overall as one of mechanical reproduction and “that which withers in the age of mechanical reproduction is the aura” (1935/​1986, p. 221). This era occasioned works liberated from the traditional roles of ritual and replaced them with a connection to mass consumption, exhibition value, and art for art’s sake. The distinction between works with and without aura provides a distinction between their makers. Benjamin contrasts an actor on a theater stage and one in a film. The stage actor has a connection to the audience, but the film actor experiences estrangement from an audience he will never see. The stage actor’s performance is continuous, but the film represents the editing together of many different takes often filmed out of order. The stage actor understands how he’ll be heard throughout the hall, but the film actor doesn’t know which camera will be used or how close the shot will be. Benjamin makes the explicit connection to industrial estrangement, saying of the actor in a film:  “during the shooting he has as little contact with it as any article made in a factory” (1935/​1986, p. 231). The same estrangement characterizes musicians who record instead of performing live, unsure how their sound will be mastered for the final release, how to calibrate a performance for an audience they will never meet, and even which recorded takes will be assembled from the multitude. As early as the 1930s, before television and computers, there was consensus that the experience of Beethoven concert was profoundly different from what Mason had attended. These three authors provoke still unanswered questions about the nature of art, society, and the artist. They provide conceptual tools that allow us to expose differences between a Beethoven concert in the year 1852 and one in 2000. Benjamin would frame the modern experience of concertgoing as a deliberate choice to experience work with an aura, a specific concert that even a recording fails to capture in its unique relations of time and place. Benjamin would draw our attention to the ritual aspects inherent in work with an aura, and note the lack of estrangement between performers and audience. This contrasts sharply with Mason’s audience, for whom all musical experience had an aura. Indeed, the Stanford concert took place in Memorial Church, a sacred space dedicated to its founder, Leland Stanford, by his wife, and featuring a stained-​glass window depicting the ascension of their son,

208

Matthew D. Thibeault

who passed away when 15, into heaven accompanied by angels. The Stanford concert was one where ritual and aura were at the center. Dewey allows us to explore how the same notes played similarly would nevertheless reach different ears in California—​ears shaped by techno beats and skyscrapers, endless streams of music but few streams of water, and soundscapes of the industrial world. He begins the unfinished examination of how our very sense of hearing is profoundly different as a result of our environments. Lowell Mason, who literally went on a mission to Europe to bring what he considered better music back to America (Gates, 1991), would have applauded the fact that so many would still come out to experience the revelations of Beethoven, and desired an education that focused on the cultivation of appreciation and musical literacy. Leavis, while applauding our ability to hear and discern these revelations, would rest only if he knew that the audience, after attending the concert, had been educated to resist radio advertisements heard in the car on the way home. He would want to make sure today’s music classrooms included time to talk about advertisements, the influence of media, and commercialization. He might even express concern that some attended the concert primarily because of slick advertisements inviting them to hear these most beautiful sounds in an exclusive setting. For all three authors, many forms of media were new, and represented an unprecedented intrusion on a life they had begun in a world that had been very different before. By contrast, the generation who grew up with these new technologies came to focus more on media’s opportunities and possibilities, the celebration of the world through media.

Mass Media as Celebration in the 1960s By the 1960s, the term mass media had come into widespread use as a way to describe the broadcast forms of television and radio, joining newspapers in allowing ideas to quickly reach a global audience. Central to addressing how music changed are Marshall McLuhan’s expanded notions of media and Glenn Gould’s explorations of music recording. McLuhan, a student of Leavis, holds a special place in the fields of media and communications. Combining a literary mind with a popular sensibility, he proposed media as part of the larger narrative of human evolution—​a vision that, while today viewed as overly deterministic, helped bring to light a new set of concerns. Central to McLuhan’s viewpoint is the narrative of humanity’s movement into a print age and then into the emerging electronic age. His book The Gutenberg Galaxy (1962) presents “typographic man” emerging out of the rising dominance of the print age. For McLuhan, print and the creation of a phonetic alphabet not only allowed for the storage of words, they occasioned an age where vision became

Music Education in the Postperformance World

209

society’s dominant sense. This impacted everything from the rise of linear logic and causality to a movement from a dynamic and personal auditory world, to a static and impersonal visual world. For those disappointed in the limitations of the print age, McLuhan promised that the emergent electronic age would move from visual into audile-​tactile emphasis. Gone would be visual linear causality, replaced by the all-​at-​once reality of fields of probability that characterize physics; static print would also be replaced by the reality of multimedia and the connection of the global consciousness. Connecting the visual/​audile to music, McLuhan wrote that the storage of ideas in sheet music changed the ideas being stored, drawing on the difference between oral and written versions of epic poetry, as empirically studied by Albert Lord (1960). Thus, written classical music gave way to oral jazz in an electronic radio age. McLuhan’s canonic work is Understanding Media (1964/​1994). In it, he develops the notion that media are, as the subtitle declares, “extensions of man.” Clothing extends skin, and the foot is extended by bicycle, car, and airplane. His definition, expanding beyond previous ones that focused on broadcast media, both allowed for a new focus on the individual (the locus of the extensions) and also for the expansion of media studies to include roads, clocks, housing, comics, and the typewriter. In the musical realm, McLuhan considered the phonograph “an extension and amplification of the voice that may well have diminished vocal activity, much as the car had reduced pedestrian activity” (p. 371). Gould’s essay, “The Prospects of Recording,” presents his view that recording changed all music (1966/​1984). Although stories can be told of groups like the Beatles retreating to the studio for a variety of reasons, for Gould it was primarily an aesthetic choice, one about which he spoke passionately, reversing the notion that live performance is a more real experience in this interview with Elyse Mach (1991): From the moment I began broadcasting, that medium seemed like another world, as indeed it is. The moment I began to experience the studio environment, my whole reaction to what I could do with music under the proper circumstances changed totally. From then on, concerts were less than second best—​they were merely something to be gotten through. They were a very poor substitute for a real artistic experience. (p. 90)

Part of what constituted the real experience was taking advantage of posttaping opportunities, such as Gould’s splicing of two substantially different interpretations of Bach’s Fugue in A Minor from The Well-​Tempered Clavier. Gould felt interpretations like this were more likely to be born after recordings were attempted: “by taking advantage of the post-​taping afterthought, however, one can very often transcend the limitations that performance imposes upon the imagination” (Gould, 1966/​1984, p. 339). Gould not only noted benefits for recording artists, he valued opportunities for listeners made possible by recording. Part of this was the ability to use microphones to give listeners a near-​omniscient vantage point, with recordings that featured sound from many microphones providing nuance impossible to perceive live. Gould

210

Matthew D. Thibeault

saw the rise of participant listeners who would shape the acoustic realities of their listening experiences by adjusting equalization and volume, and who he presciently foresaw would eventually have the ability to remix different performances or alter tempo and other musical dimensions. This creative listener, “is also, of course, a threat, a potential usurper of power, an uninvited guest at the banquet of the arts, one whose presence threatens the familiar hierarchical setting of the musical establishment” (1966/​1984, p. 347). Back on the concert stage, perhaps reluctantly after Gould, McLuhan presents a view that moves our attention both forward and backward. We find ourselves for the first time feeling that we might be already within a mass movement when starting with Mason at Birmingham. For McLuhan, Mason’s attendance at the 1852 concert was less an event with an aura than an instance of print allowing Beethoven’s ideas to extend across time and space. The medium of Western music notation allowed for the storage and sharing of musical ideas, serving as an extension across time and into the bodies of an entire orchestra who realized Beethoven’s revelations, each musician singing with his or her voice or through extension via a musical instrument. McLuhan might also have noted that Beethoven’s improvisations were very different from the Ninth. McLuhan clearly preferred the audile-​ tactile world of the electronic age. Instead of Beethoven, McLuhan in California might have been interested to find opportunities to hear music not limited by notation, seeking out performers of the audile-​tactile age, from DJs to poetry slams. Finally, McLuhan would have seen the concert as enjoyable, but he would have expected educators to study and teach the ramifications of its extension and transformation through broadcast, recordings, and television or film. McLuhan would contest that the concert had ceased to be as exciting as the medium of transmission. Gould would feel that the audience in California made a deliberate and poor choice in giving up their threatening role as participant listeners who shape their acoustic experience. He would lament their willing entrance back into the musical establishment’s familiar hierarchical setting, home of the poor substitute for artistic experience. For Gould the studio was the place to make music, not merely a way to capture what happens in concerts. Unconcerned with a work’s aura, Gould gives voice to the possibility that from both a sonic and interpretive standpoint, the advantages of recordings trump live performance. Gould would argue that the best experience could be had through an editing together of different takes of the Stanford Symphony, enjoyed by participant listeners at an optimal moment of attention and curiosity. Music educators may strongly disagree with this viewpoint, but it is beyond contention that most orchestra recordings today blend many microphones and edit together multiple takes (Philip, 2004). From threat to celebration, the rise of mass media continued to overshadow live performance. This rising postperformance world celebrated and augmented what could be made real, stitching together the best from many takes with optimal sonic vantage points via multiple microphones. Artistry continued to expand through

Music Education in the Postperformance World

211

humanity’s extension by media. What remained was for the tools of production and the means of distribution to be made available more broadly, exactly what happened with the rise of the internet and new media.

New Media as Transformative in the 1990s The contemporary landscape is, to begin with, not land. Words, liberated from paper, find their way across networks onto the screens of mobile phones and even the occasional computer. Multimedia is the default state for most content, liberated beyond traditional vessels such as the newspaper. The digital age expanded mass media through computers to become new media. All aspects of these changes have deeply permeated educational discourse as more fields attend to the variety of perspectives that enhance educational practice. The move from tangible artifacts toward digital information is part of the larger emergence of “new media.” Lev Manovich (2002) writes:  “new media represents a convergence of two separate historical trajectories:  computing and media technologies.” Their combination promotes “the translation of all existing media into numerical data accessible through computers—​the result is new media—​ graphics, moving images, sounds, shapes, spaces, and texts that have become computable; that is, they comprise simply another set of computer data” (p. 20). Sound becomes something that exists in, and is often created by, computers. For Manovich, the computer becomes both synthesizer and manipulator for sound, and all music is heading toward a digital existence for creation, or at least storage. Contemporary scholars have continued to reframe narratives of media, and music educators now have rich accountings of the emergence and importance of recorded sound. Jonathan Sterne, a central thinker in the field of sound studies, provides a cultural account of the origins of sound reproduction that links the desire for the recording of sound with a broader cultural need for preservation also filled by canning and embalming (2003, p. 292). Recorded sound, in Sterne’s narrative, should be understood as a reconstruction of the senses through a combination of cultural values and technological innovation. Sterne revisits Dewey’s concerns about the construction of hearing, noting: “you can take the sound out of the human, but you can take the human out of the sound only through an exercise in imagination . . . as part of a larger physical phenomenon of vibration, sound is a product of the human senses and not a thing of the world apart from humans” (p. 11). Mark Katz (2004) also reveals that sound recording goes beyond the storage of sound. Recordings make sound tangible, allow global transmission through portability, are invisible in that they hide performers, repeat exactly, and invite the

212

Matthew D. Thibeault

manipulations of DJs and producers. Recordings may be recycled, reused, remixed, and placed in an astonishing variety of new contexts. These recordings feed back to live performance through what Katz calls “phonograph effects,” such as the increased use of vibrato over time. He traces how musicians adjusted their playing over this century, away from risk-​taking and the occasional mistake and toward the perfection and repeatability of recordings. Recordings permeate our imaginations when we make music. Whereas recordings once aspired to capture concerts, concerts now often aspire to meet the standard set by recordings. Several scholars have explored new media’s societal ramifications. Henry Jenkins (2006) describes the emergence of “convergence culture” with the collective intelligence of the internet, where audiences participate through commenting and remixing works far beyond Glenn Gould’s wildest imagining, and where traditional media converge into new media through the erasure of old boundaries between physical and digital media. Lawrence Lessig has explored remixing as an artistic process (2008), along with the tensions between copyright and innovation that historically accompany any new distribution method, such as radio, cable television, and now the internet (2004). Lessig and Jenkins both provide convincing invitations for the music education profession to reflect on new media. Educators have also joined efforts to theorize about the educational ramifications of new media. Allan Collins and Richard Halverson (2009) posit three eras of learning in human history: from a home-​based apprenticeship era to a state-​ controlled schooling era, to an emergent lifelong-​learning era. Lifelong learning is exemplified by individual responsibility to learn. This takes place in an interactive and computer-​mediated manner, from a mixed group of peers and adults, and with embedded assessments rather than the testing of earlier eras. In music, apprenticeship can be found in private guitar lessons, schooling era in a guitar class, and lifelong learning in efforts to learn via internet sites like YouTube. Collins and Halverson stress that this learning takes place whenever and wherever one wishes to learn, a point that is central for the emerging paradigm of “ubiquitous learning” (Cope & Kalantzis, 2010). Ubiquitous learning includes the anytime/​anywhere aspect, but also an expanded conception of learning: In essence, the process of learning and the products of learning are rapidly merging into ubiquitous knowledge engagement. The implications of this profound transformation—​for formal schooling, for online communities, for evolving definitions of public knowledge, and for global interconnectedness and economic development—​cannot be underestimated. (p. x)

It is inevitable that ubiquitous music learning will become widespread, and that it will transform many aspects of musical understanding, thinking, and performing. Contemporary educators continue to grapple with new forms of the problems Leavis identified. Elisabeth Soep and Vivian Chávez (Chavéz & Soep, 2005; Soep & Chavéz, 2010) have coined the term “collegial pedagogy” to describe their work producing media with students for national radio syndication. They state: “in collegial pedagogy, emerging and established producers jointly create original work

Music Education in the Postperformance World

213

for public release, engaged in a process that has significant potential to deepen the learning experience for both parties and to enrich the media product distributed to the world” (Soep & Chavéz, p. 16). Their well-​documented and compelling radio work aims to overcome the tensions noted by Leavis. It also recognizes that literacy and content have converged, as described by Jenkins, so that students are not taught merely about media, but rather taught through media to become aware and active agents in their own learning. New media make both estrangement and extension a central fact of existence. Experience is increasingly mediated by new media in digital environments so that the meaning of the concert in California is radically transformed. To live and learn now, with senses profoundly shaped by new media, is finally to live in the postperformance world.

Resituating Music Education in the Postperformance World To take a piece like the Ninth and reduce it to background music for homework, or to have a concert as only a small part of one’s experience with a piece, requires a fundamentally changed world from the one Lowell Mason knew, and it is these changes this chapter addresses. Change has occurred so slowly as to render nearly imperceptible the radical move from the performance-​based musical world where Mason waited nearly 30 years to hear the Ninth for the first time, to our present world where only an extreme minority of experiences with music come through live performance. This chapter offers a narrative of the growing importance of media over the last century—​from media to mass media, and finally to new media—​resulting in the postperformance world. To recognize this world is to acknowledge new practices, new opportunities, and new meanings for traditional activities. Attention to media allows us to organize concerns and to resituate our profession with respect to the postperformance world. I contend that much more attention should be devoted to understanding the ramifications of the decoupling of music from performance via the rise of media. Media also offers expanded notions of learning, inviting educators to participate in the wider nets cast by those who are interested in music in everyday life, in traditionally excluded music, in the uses and purposes of music, and in understanding music as a cultural practice embedded in multiple discourses. Performance still exists in the postperformance world, and is perhaps newly important by its very scarcity. By analogy, when I want to let someone know how thankful I am, I write a letter or card by hand. It is infinitely easier and cheaper to text, call, or email and it is in contrast to this efficiency that the handwritten card acquires special value. The card has an aura. It allows us to reconnect, to follow the lines a hand once traced on a surface. A  similar value exists for live musical

214

Matthew D. Thibeault

performance, and its full value for students can happen best if we understand the postperformance world. The Beethoven concerts with which I began this piece illustrate some of the ways the postperformance world fundamentally changes the context of otherwise similar live performances. Some of these are negative: we might listen with ears accustomed to exact repeatability, with ears likely dulled by exposure to recordings, or through knowing that we could download a recording—​better in many aspects—​onto our phone in seconds. We do not have to wait, and there is always another opportunity to hear a piece of music via recordings, often in the background (Kassabian, 2013). We perform with new aspirations to sound as good as recordings where perfection trumps surprise, and may unintentionally emulate the estrangement present in the recording process. Of course, there are also positive implications in the postperformance world: in liberating performance from being the only way to hear music, we can focus on the unique aspect of human communion provided by live performance, we can treasure a moment that derives sweetness from the fact that it will never come again, and perhaps we can even allow our performances to be liberated from having to do what is available on record. Musicians also directly participate in a global musical culture, with imaginations shaped by an inexhaustible supply of recordings. Educators have a significant role to play in helping their students understand the pros and cons of a postperformance world. Whereas music education in Mason’s time was largely organized around literacy and performance exemplified by the centrality of a Beethoven concert, the postperformance world invites a wide diversity of activities and orientations. Katz (2012) notes, “One of the clearest changes [over the twentieth century]  . . .. is the transformation of an amateurism dependent on sheet music to one dependent on recorded and synthesized sound” (p.  476). Performance, with a different set of accompanying values, must remain a part of music education. Listening opportunities have increased, ranging from the consumer education orientation of Leavis to educating students, and through media as found in a Soep and Chavéz’s (2010) collegial pedagogy. In the digital age, Gould’s participant listeners become social through Jenkins’s notion of participatory audiences, where they contribute to a collective intelligence via converged media. Our imaginations, once shaped by the palate of the orchestra, are now expanded to include samples from across the history of music and synthesis of entirely new auditory worlds. But while performance and the special contribution it makes to human experience must not be lost, it is equally true that music educators must move beyond a performance focus to embrace other aspects of the postperformance world. To limit music education to a performance paradigm in our postperformance world would be to miss out on much of the fun in today’s musical world. Lowell Mason, in sending back a letter from the Birmingham Festival, provided readers with an expanded vision for music education in the United States. Today’s music educators might also embark on a voyage, one that expands our offerings and broadens our horizon, connecting our traditions to the media-​rich postperformance world.

Music Education in the Postperformance World

215

We need not abandon what our profession has held dear for so long: the apprenticeship of individual studio instruction, exploring great works from around the world and across history, and a deep appreciation of the pleasures of performance. Acknowledging the postperformance world makes it hard to imagine we will not find many new opportunities to expand the list of things we hold dear through ubiquitous learning in our lifelong-​learning age. Educators have a critical role to play in helping to ensure that our engagement remains meaningful, that we do not lose track of the values of live performance, and that we allow ourselves as a profession to enlarge our conception of music, musician, and audience. The immense challenges of the adjustment to the postperformance world also promise new pleasures for learners everywhere.

Reflective Questions

1. If a school ensemble released recordings instead of, or in addition to, giving concerts, how might that change the learning experience? 2. What awareness of media and commercial culture exists in your curriculum? What could be added, and what might it help students learn? 3. In what ways is your students’ sense of hearing shaped by the postperformance world? Can your students consider how they might listen differently given the changes brought on by recordings and digital media? 4. Are there ways you might wish to include efforts to teach through media in the “collegial pedagogy” approach? What might learning together through media be like?

KEY SOURCES Teachers looking to better understand the kinds of thinking exemplified in this chapter are encouraged to read Sterne (2003, 2013). Additionally, I  wrote a paper that draws more heavily on the humanities to illuminate the subjective nature of musical experience as the locus of experience shifted from performance, to recordings, to data (Thibeault, 2014).

REFERENCES Benjamin, W. (1986). The work of art in the age of mechanical reproduction (trans. H. Zohn). In H. Arendt (ed.), Illuminations (pp. 217–​252). New York: Schocken Books. (Originally published 1935). Burnard, P. (2012). Musical creativities in practice. New York, NY: Oxford University Press.

216

Matthew D. Thibeault

Chavéz, V., & Soep, E. (2005). Youth radio and the pedagogy of collegiality. Harvard Educational Review, 75(4), 409–​434. Collins, A., & Halverson, R. (2009). Rethinking education in the age of technology: The digital revolution and schooling in America. New York: Teachers College Press. Cope, B., & Kalantzis, M. (2010). Ubiquitous learning. Urbana: University of Illinois Press. Dewey, J. (1980). Art as experience. New York: Perigee Books. (Originally published 1934). Gates, J. T. (1991). Lowell Mason’s America:  Social reconstructionism and music in the schools. In M. McCarthy & B. D. Wilson (eds.), Music in American schools: 1838–​1988 (pp. 61–​65). College Park: University of Maryland. Gould, G. (1984). The prospects of recording. In T. Page (ed.), The Glenn Gould reader (pp. 331–​353). New York: Alfred A. Knopf. (Originally published 1966). Jenkins, H. (2006). Convergence culture: Where old and new media collide. New York: New York University Press. Kassabian, A. (2013). Ubiquitous listening:  Affect, attention, and distributed subjectivity. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Katz, M. (2004). Capturing sound: How technology has changed music. Berkeley: University of California Press. Katz, M. (2012). The Amateur in the Age of Mechanical Music. In K. Bijsterveld & T. J. Pinch (eds.), The Oxford handbook of sound studies (pp. 459–​479). New York, NY: Oxford University Press. Leavis, F. R. (1933). Culture and environment: The training of critical awareness. London: Chatto & Windus. Lessig, L. (2004). Free culture: How big media uses technology and the law to lock down culture and control creativity. New York: Penguin Press. Lessig, L. (2008). Remix:  Making art and commerce thrive in the hybrid economy. New York: Penguin Press. Lord, A. B. (1960). The singer of tales. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Mach, E. (1991). Great contemporary pianists speak for themselves. Mineola, NY: Dover. Manovich, L. (2002). The language of new media. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Mason, L. (1854). Musical letters from abroad: Including detailed accounts of the Birmingham, Norwich, and Dusseldorf musical festivals of 1852. New York: Mason Brothers. McLuhan, M. (1962). The Gutenberg galaxy:  The making of typographical man. Toronto: University of Toronto Press. McLuhan, M. (1994). Understanding media: The extensions of man (Critical ed. by T. Gordon). Corte Madera, CA: Gingko Press. (Originally published 1964). Philip, R. (2004). Performing music in the age of recording. New Haven, CT:  Yale University Press. Soep, E., & Chavéz, V. (2010). Drop that knowledge: Youth radio stories. Los Angeles: University of California Press. Sousa, J. P. (1906, September). The menace of mechanical music. Appleton’s Magazine, 8, 278–​284. Sterne, J. (2003). The audible past: Cultural origins of sound reproduction. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Sterne, J. (2012). MP3: The meaning of a format. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Thibeault, M. D. (2014). The shifting locus of musical experience from performance to recording to data:  Some implications for music education. Music Education Research International, 6, 38–​55. Williams, R. (1985). Keywords:  A vocabulary of culture and society. New  York:  Oxford University Press.

Chapter 14

LET’S PLAY! LEARNING MUSIC THROUGH VIDEO GAMES AND VIRTUAL WORLDS Evan S. Tobias

For years, imagery and sounds of games such as Guitar Hero1 and Rock Band captured the imaginations of popular media, the public, and would-​be rock stars across the world. Discourse and debate surrounding these games, however, were often constrained within a dichotomy of virtual versus “real” performance, often excluding music video games’ potential as media for musical learning. Cautious music educators will wonder why they would choose to use their limited time putting video game controllers in students’ hands instead of instruments. In this chapter I suggest that video games create virtual worlds rich with potential for students to interact with music in new ways, construct musical understanding, and connect their musical engagement and learning between school and home. While video games may not be the primary form of entertainment media for all young people, gameplay is firmly enmeshed in contemporary cultural milieux. The emerging field of ludomusicology acknowledges this, applying musicological analysis to videogames and offering compelling ways to think about the intersection of media, music, and play (Cheng, 2014; Kemp, Summers, & Sweeney, 2016; Summers, 2016). Acknowledging musical play as a productive site for constructing musical understanding (Harwood, 1998; Marsh & Young, 2006), music educators might consider the challenges and potential of using video games and gameplay as a means of and resource for teaching and learning music. Since this chapter was first published, studies and related literature pertaining to this focus are growing and

218

Evan S. Tobias

addressing what was once a lacuna in related empirical work (Cassidy & Paisley, 2013; Clements, Cody, & Gibbs, 2008; Gower & McDowall, 2012; Lum, 2009; O’Leary & Tobias, 2017; O’Meara, 2016; Paney, 2015; Peppler et al., 2011; Tobias & O’Leary, 2017). Music educators could further envision and develop curricular and pedagogical possibilities of these media. This chapter offers one step in this direction. After outlining the background and scope of music-​focused video games, I situate video games in terms of new literacies (Gee, 2004; Lankshear & Knobel, 2006). I then draw on research on video games and learning to provide a theoretical framework that supports the use of video games in music education. Along with music-​ focused video games I discuss the roles that music plays in video games (Collins, 2008, 2013). As studies focusing on video games and music education increase, the principles and approaches for learning music through gameplay and integrating video games in music programs suggested in this chapter and by others should be reexamined and developed further. It is Friday evening, which means Rock Band 3 night at the Jimenez household. Gina asks her mother, Sasha, for permission to purchase two songs by Lady Gaga as downloadable content (DLC). Sasha says yes, adding, “but I’m playing the drums.” Sasha sits behind the drum controllers and starts hitting the rubber pads and cymbals with drumsticks. Gripping the microphone controller, Gina reminds her mother to use the plastic kick pedal to play the parts accurately. Alex grabs a guitar controller and begins pressing the color-​coded buttons that simulate frets on the guitar neck while flicking the small plastic bar with his thumb, which simulates strumming a guitar’s strings. He plans to demonstrate his new skill of shifting his left hand down the neck and using his pinky, having practiced on expert mode for hours on end. Javier glances at the keyboard controller before picking another guitar controller up from the floor. He selects the bass part and tweaks his avatar’s appearance.2 Gina selects Poker Face, using the mode allowing for any song to be played rather than requiring advancement through music of increasing complexity. After each player chooses one of the five available difficulty levels the music begins. Forty seconds into the song dissonant sounds clang through the speakers resulting from Javier’s trouble coordinating his fingers’ placement on the buttons and rhythmic strumming to the iconic notation scrolling across the screen. A virtual crowd boos Javier’s mistakes and Gina’s spirited but inaccurate vocal performance. Sasha’s and Alex’s accuracy keep the song advancing. Alex gesticulates with his body emphatically, clicking and strumming the guitar parts that closely parallel the original song. After completing Poker Face Sasha exclaims “I rocked!” Their scores and accuracy-​based-​statistics display across the screen as Alex retorts, “Yeah, Mom, on easy mode. Let’s see how you do playing some Metal at medium or difficult.”

Music and Video Games Video games are digital media that can be played on computers with or without online access, handheld devices, and console systems in conjunction with a screen (Squire, 2008). These media take many forms including commercial-​off-​the-​shelf

Let’s Play!

219

games featuring genres such as adventure, sports, or role play; “massively multiplayer online games” (MMOG), which feature open-​ended worlds and player interactions; and “serious games,” which aim to educate or present information within a game environment (Squire, 2006, 2008). This chapter focuses on commercial-​off-​the-​shelf games, particularly those played on console systems such as the Xbox, PlayStation, and Nintendo, although mobile games offer an equally rich context to explore. Music-​focused video games, referred to as rhythm action games, typically involve players using controllers to match rhythmic and pitch content dictated by the games’ visual interfaces (Miller, 2009). Peripheral controllers simulating instruments range from maracas and bongos in the games Samba de Amigo and Donkey Konga, respectively, to microphones, guitars, and drum sets in the games Guitar Hero and Rock Band or turntables in BeatMania and DJ Hero. Rhythm action games provide players with a sense that they are performing music and enhance the musicality of one’s experience through connecting gameplay to visuals, audio, controllers, and game structures, such as the rewarding of higher point values for correctly played phrases, as opposed to individual notes (Squire, 2011). Physical performance is made possible through the use of MIDI keyboards, MIDI drum sets, and modified electric guitars in games such as Rock Band along with microphone controllers that reproduce and track the accuracy of a player’s live voice. With special adapters, electric guitars can be used in games such as RockSmith that are designed to help one play the instrument. Players can manipulate musical parameters to some extent, such as altering dynamics and phrasing in Wii Music with the Nintendo Wii Remote, a wireless gestural controller.3 Several games allow people in different locations to collaborate or compete via online game system networks in addition to the physical space around the console. Beyond its central role in rhythm action games, music is critical to creating immersive environments and virtual worlds in other game genres. Whether contributing to an overarching narrative or providing feedback to a player’s actions, music is an integral element of contemporary video games. While taking gaming culture seriously is a first step toward realizing the potential of the musical experience and engagement offered by video games, developing informed praxis necessitates an understanding of these media and how young people engage with and experience them. To this end the following section delineates theoretical frameworks related to new literacies and learning through gameplay that support incorporating video games and virtual worlds in music programs.

Contextualizing Video Games through New Literacies Warschauer and Ware (2008) argue that defining literacy as “the ability to decode print-​based texts” excludes ways of communicating afforded by new digital

220

Evan S. Tobias

technologies (p.  215). They explain that beyond decoding, literacy “encompasses meaning making, functional use of texts, and critical analysis” (p. 215). In expanding beyond print-​based and static notions of literacy to those more inclusive and appropriate for digital media, educators might think in terms of literacies. This is consistent with Eisner’s (1991) proposition that schools should provide students with opportunities to engage with multiple forms of literacy that take into account diverse forms of sensation, meaning, and representation. Thinking in terms of literacies is key to realizing the full potential of video games in music programs. Lankshear and Knobel (2006) define literacies as “socially recognized ways of generating, communicating, and negotiating meaningful content through the medium of encoded texts within contexts of participation in Discourses (or as members of Discourses)” (p.  64). Discourses, in this case, are “ways of behaving, interacting, valuing, thinking, believing, speaking, and often reading and writing, that are accepted as instantiations of particular identities (‘or types of people’) by specific groups” (Gee, 2008, p. 3). The practices and Discourses related to digital media such as video games can be considered “New Literacies” different from and expanding the concept of conventional print-​based literacies through the affordances of digital technologies (Lankshear & Knobel, 2006). This perspective can help educators avoid constraining the use of video games within conventional conceptions of music literacy by addressing the ways young people engage with music and their ensuing music literacies. Whereas traditional notions of music literacy focus primarily on reading and writing music through standard notation and discerning musical attributes, digital technologies such as video games allow for new forms of text and ways of “reading and writing” (Gee, 2004). Engaging with these texts involves multimodality, which accounts for the infinite ways multimedia can be layered, morphed, and combined (Kress & Van Leeuwen, 2001). Music video games are prime examples of multimodal texts in that they integrate music and its visual representations, graphics that create an immersive environment, peripheral controllers, and actions in the physical space outside the game itself. Addressing music and learning in the context of video games requires educators to broaden beyond a focus on reading and writing staff notation and grapple with how people interact with, learn, and do music through digital media and multimodal texts. At stake are music educators’ ability to capitalize on a significant aspect of young people’s popular culture and capacity to evolve with how people engage with and understand music. These goals are best met with an understanding of the Discourses surrounding video games and knowledge of how games afford learning.

Learning through Video Games Given the problem-​solving tasks, potential for collaboration, extended engagement, and new literacies incorporated in video games, it is productive to conceptualize

Let’s Play!

221

them as designed experiences (Squire, 2006, 2008). Players learn through their identification of and engagement with the patterns, generalizations, problems, and solutions that make up the game’s virtual world through repeated effort, experimentation, trial and error, and/​or using information provided by the game and related resources (Gee, 2007). Failure is designed to encourage players to determine better solutions to a given problem and allows for multiple opportunities to reach a particular goal (Gee, 2008). Video games are thus designed to scaffold players’ learning and meaning making, which are situated and embodied in gameplay (Gee, 2004, 2007). Gameplay often extends beyond the virtual worlds of video games to the physical space outside the games. Stevens, Satwicz, and McCarthy (2008) differentiate these two spaces in terms of “in-​game,” within the virtual game environment, and “in-​room,” the physical environment in which the game is played. The authors argue that young people learn through their varied “in-​room” interactions with each other and make broader connections to other aspects of their lives, what they term “in-​ world.” These interactions can also occur via the internet and mobile technologies, and often include peer mentoring and collaboration. Those with shared interest in video games often organize and create affinity spaces characterized by: a common endeavor rather than one’s identity; newbies, masters, and everyone else sharing a common space; the transformation of content by those who interact with it; knowledge that is individualized, distributed, and dispersed among other spaces, such as websites; the encouragement of tacit knowledge; a diversity of possibilities for participating and gaining status; and leadership that is flexible and changing (Gee, 2004, pp. 85–​87). Video games and affinity spaces also foster opportunities for players to engage as producers or codesigners of games by modding (modifying) content ranging from simple alterations to the creation of extensions for others to play (Gee, 2004, 2007; Squire, 2008). By drawing on the design elements, structures, and interactions surrounding video games, music educators can play an important role in students’ learning and meaning making. How might this occur in music classrooms?

Considering the Educator’s Role While many of the aforementioned aspects of video games and gameplay are conducive to learning, the onus is on music educators to recontextualize students’ experiences and play in terms of teaching and learning music. This demands observing and employing the Discourses, conversations, and interactions that take place around gameplay along with facilitating and scaffolding students’ learning to help them connect their in-​game, in-​room, and in-​world experiences. Mediating the meanings young people make from interacting with video games is key to this process (Squire, 2006, 2008). By drawing on the characteristics of video games that

222

Evan S. Tobias

afford learning, music educators might cultivate environments conducive to play, affinity spaces, and peer interaction where students would regularly experience collaboration, musical problem solving (Wiggins, 2009), a wide degree of autonomy, and opportunities to struggle through challenges before choosing to obtain assistance (Green, 2008). The remainder of this chapter offers possibilities for putting the aforementioned theories to practice.

Learning Music through Video Games Developing a pedagogy that addresses the affordances of video games and virtual worlds for teaching and learning music compels music educators to mobilize the conceptual frameworks discussed thus far and incorporate musical engagement that intersects virtual and physical spaces. This section addresses performance issues relevant to music video games and suggests how video games might be contextualized and integrated with engaged and critical listening, musical analysis, creation of original music, and discussion of related sociocultural issues. In practice, these ways of engaging and thinking musically overlap and may occur simultaneously and recursively with students’ gameplay. The suggestions embedded throughout the following discussion are starting points and invite additional approaches as related research emerges.

Performing In public discourse on music video games, a dichotomy of real and simulated performance between rhythm action games and “real” instruments offers music educators and students opportunities to reexamine notions of performance. Many rhythm action gamers feel as if they are performing, though they distinguish between performing music and playing these games (Lum, 2009; Miller, 2009). Gameplay is often performative, with players enacting the role of rock star both virtually, through choices made in the game regarding performance venues, and in reality, through imitating their avatar’s characteristics and physically embodying this persona through theatrics and gestures, converting the in-​room space into a virtual stage (Miller, 2009; Squire, 2008). Miller (2009) contextualizes this phenomenon as schizophonic performance, in which “the players and their audience join the game designers and recorded musicians in stitching musical sound and performing body back together” (p.  424). She also notes that some players approach the game competitively, focusing more intently on scoring points than on performing. While rhythm action games provide players with musical, performative, and aesthetic experiences, does the process of accurately triggering a song’s musical

Let’s Play!

223

elements on instrument-​shaped controllers, as dictated by the game visualizations, constitute musical performance? What aspects of playing rhythm action games relate to and/​or impact traditional notions of performance on acoustic and electric instruments? As we learn more about such relationships, it is important for music educators to wrestle with the philosophical, curricular, and pedagogical issues surrounding performance and video games.

Blurred Lines between Playing Games and Instruments The inclusion of vocal parts in video games such as Rock Band, Guitar Hero, and Def Jam Rapstar share similarities with aspects of musical performance and in some cases blur the lines between games and instruments.4 Variations between the games raise questions as to their potential impact on a player’s musical performance and understanding outside the game environment. Vocal phrasing, articulation, lyric, and pitch accuracy, for example, might be affected by the visual representations of vocal parts. Students could compare and contrast how melodic contour, durational values, and intonation are represented in different games and consider how this might impact their performance and conceptualization of music in general. Similar issues may be considered in relation to using guitar, keyboard, drum, and turntable controllers. To consider the broader implications of rhythm action games for performance, listening, composing, and other forms of musical engagement, music educators might reflect on how young people make meaning and develop musical understanding through interacting with these media. The potential of video games for learning and teaching music is greatly expanded when we look beyond a dichotomy between virtual and real instruments and consider what game systems teach and what players learn. How do representations of pitch and rhythm impact one’s sense of performance, nuance, sensitivity, and/​or phrasing? How does gameplay contribute to players’ awareness and understanding of the music’s stylistic attributes and inner workings? Along with serving as foci for future research, these and related questions might be posed to students for reflecting on their gameplay and musicking.

Expanding Notions of Play and Performance Classrooms provide a rich context for students’ gameplay to occur along with performance of acoustic and electric instruments, offering opportunities for connections and comparisons to be made between video game and musical performance. Music educators’ questions and prompts could help focus attention on the relationship between the game’s visuals and what students perform or hear. By having students compare video games and musical performance in terms of their expressive

224

Evan S. Tobias

possibilities, such as vocal phrasing or nuanced dynamic change, the games’ and controllers’ constraints become sites for inquiry rather than rationales for exclusion from music classrooms. A traditional performance paradigm, however, does not encompass the full potential of including video games in music classrooms. Embracing the multimodal and music literacies afforded by this technology might lead music educators to integrate aspects of gamer culture, such as the creation and use of game mods. The in-​room space, for example, leaves openings for performance and creative responses that can be explored by music teachers and students (Smith, 2004; Squire, 2008). Technological developments are expanding the types of controllers and instruments that can be used to create and perform music through video games. Students can play music and games simultaneously by using MIDI and acoustic drum sets for percussion parts and strum and pluck strings rather than pressing buttons on standard controllers with the YouRock digital/​MIDI guitar, Fender Rock Band 3 Squier, or projects such as OpenChord.org’s initiative to mod electric guitars into game controllers. The game Rocksmith allows electric guitars to be used as controllers. These mods and alternative controllers allow for a range of creative performance possibilities in conjunction with and beyond traditional gameplay. Providing opportunities for students to think musically while exploring and imagining game mods may sow seeds that some day advance the use of instruments as game controllers, increase the sophistication of game interfaces and designs to account for expressive interpretations of music, or allow musical performance to control gameplay and elements. When legato or staccato articulations change how a character traverses a virtual landscape or pitch fluctuations determine an avatar’s balance on a treacherous perch, game and musical play may merge in fascinating ways. Might music education play a critical role in the work of future video game developers, programmers, composers, and players? While extensions and expansions of performance offer interesting possibilities for students to learn music, framing music video games exclusively in terms of performance is limiting in scope and misses possibilities of integrating video games in music classrooms or ensembles through other types of musical engagement. The remainder of this section explores the potential of combining listening, analysis, and creation of video game music with gameplay.

Engaged and Critical Listening Players use instrument game controllers to play along with the recording of a chosen song. While the sounds emanating from most controllers are limited to clicks and taps, one’s performance, if correct, is heard as parts of the song emitted from speakers. The connection between players’ performance, aural feedback, and game visuals can be considered a form of engaged listening (Campbell, 2004; Lum,

Let’s Play!

225

2009). Campbell (2004) describes engaged listening as “the active participation by a listener in some extent of music-​making while the recorded (or live) music is sounding” (p. 91). She argues that for many students, “listening must be folded into a means of interactive engagement with the music” (p. 91). Expanding beyond a sole focus of comparing video games to musical performance allows music educators to access new vistas of engaged listening in music classrooms. The use of instrument-​shaped controllers in rhythm action games provide players with an embodied form of engagement with the music they play in the game. Smith (2004) stresses the importance of connecting body, sound, and image to one’s experience playing music-​focused games, explaining that “the player stops thinking in terms of locking on targets and instead tries to feel the groove” (p. 65). Miller (2009) identified changes in the ways Guitar Hero players listened to music, such as their ability to isolate specific instrumental parts in a song and envisioning themselves playing along with or seeing visual representations of music to which they listened. Their listening in these ways extended beyond the songs played in the game. Video games might then mediate students’ listening and musical understanding, particularly if music educators contextualize students’ play with guided questions drawing on their situated experience. By interacting with the music they are listening to and viewing, students might hear aspects of the music otherwise elusive or difficult to hear. Video games can thus act as an entry point into musical learning with students’ gameplay as a safe, familiar, and enjoyable space for listening and hearing differently.

Engaged Listening and Multimodal Affordances of Video Games The multimodal nature of video games affords connections between what one sees, hears, and does in the game context. Auerbach (2010) details how educators can capitalize on these affordances by helping students connect their embodied experience dancing and reading iconic notation while playing Dance Dance Revolution (DDR) to vocalization, sight-​reading, and transcribing music with standard notation. Whether players focus primarily on the visual, the aural, or a combination of both aspects of video game music is speculative at this point, given the early stage of related research; however, “reading” music in music-​focused games seems related to engaged listening. Miller (2009) found that players read Guitar Hero notation as sets of patterns, a strategy learned from prior formal music experience or during similar processes while playing the game DDR. This suggests that beyond eye-​hand coordination and fast finger work, playing music video games requires a conceptual framework about the game’s musical system on which one bases one’s physical actions (Schultz, 2008). Schultz (2008) argues that such a theory is based on the way that rhythm action games map musical time to physical space visually.

226

Evan S. Tobias

Games that provide several difficulty levels for each song begin with a skeleton of the musical content at the easy level and add additional content, filling in rhythms and pitches as the difficulty progresses, until one must essentially play the original part (Miller, 2009; Schultz, 2008). Thus, particularly on easier levels, one does not necessarily see what one hears. Though this may frustrate a player who knows a particular song and is required to play a simplified version of one instrumental part, it offers countless possibilities for students to sharpen their abilities to identify and distinguish between the varied tonal, rhythmic, and structural layers in a song. This process can be repeated for each difficulty level, in essence, generating a visual, kinesthetic, and aural gestalt.

Listening Critically Video games offer opportunities for students to listen critically and aesthetically when contextualized in a music classroom. Music educators can frame video games to elicit students’ aesthetic preferences and musical thinking, ranging from discussing the mixes created by professional DJs for DJ Hero to evaluating vocal performances from the game SingStar or Def Jam Rapstar that were uploaded to a game system network. This could also apply to students’ perceptions of the aesthetic qualities and relevance of music in video games beyond the music-​focused genres discussed thus far. Huiberts and van Tol’s (2007) “pretty ugly game sound study,” for example, encourages gamers to submit and describe examples of good (pretty) and bad (ugly) video game music to a website that allows for discussion of the archived submissions. Having students critique and discuss video game music in the classroom combines gamer culture with opportunities for developing students’ listening and analytical skills. Jessie holds the controller, confused by the numerous buttons and knobs. “The last time I played a video game was in high school,” she discloses to her partner, Erik. Erik inserts Uncharted 2: Among Thieves in the console system, replying, “This is a bit different, but you’ll figure it out.” After a brief animated scene provides context to the game’s start, Jessie finds herself, as the character Nathan Drake, hanging precariously from a train teetering off a cliffside, surrounded by lightly falling snow and the whispering sound of wind. New to the game and controller, Jessie takes several minutes before ascertaining how to make Drake climb the dangling train’s surface. As she fiddles with the controller trying to climb and jump, the music alternates between a symphonic motive echoing the game’s theme music, a woodwind theme whispering along with the sounds of wind and creaking wood, and ominous-​sounding drums with string instrument tremolos. Turning a corner while clinging to a metal pipe, she (Drake) slips. The dynamics swell, returning to calm as she gains her balance climbing upward. Suddenly, a French horn and strings enter at a fortissimo, swelling tensely as a chunk of the train hurtles down toward her. She traverses the train car quickly, avoiding the falling wreckage. The prior woodwind theme returns at a mezzo piano. “This is intense,” Jessie exclaims.

Let’s Play!

227

Considering the Functions of Music in Video Games Music contributes to video games’ immersive environments and the illusion that a player is outside her reality and in the virtual world of a video game by setting particular moods, contributing to game narratives, signifying emotions, and playing a preparatory function, such as warning a player that something important is about to take place or focusing her attention on particular game elements (Collins, 2008; Zehnder & Lipscomb, 2006). Understanding how music functions in the multimodal context of video games and gameplay can lead to new ways of perceiving and experiencing music through digital media. Situating analysis and discourse in the context of playing games in class might provide concrete entry points to address varied musical issues and music’s interactive nature in video games. Collins (2008) explains that much of video game music is nonlinear and interactive in nature. She makes a distinction between adaptive audio, which responds to gameplay, and interactive audio, which changes according to a player’s direct actions. Dynamic audio, according to Collins, is both adaptive through responding to game parameters, such as a character’s health in the game, and interactive, by responding to a player’s direct input, such as moving an object. Thinking in terms of adaptive, interactive, and dynamic audio opens new imaginative spaces for students to listen to, conceptualize, create, and perform music. The ability for video game music to change based on a player’s varied choices and actions requires that music either be composed in a nonlinear fashion and designed so that it can be reconstructed in multiple ways or, in the case of preexisting music, divided into parts to be rearranged based on responses to gameplay (Collins, 2008). For example, the music playing at a particular point in a game could change based on the character’s location relative to another character or object (Collins, 2008). Thinking through music in the nonlinear context of video games’ virtual worlds offers students new ways of conceptualizing music that are dynamic and responsive to someone other than a performer or conductor. Through gameplay and focused listening students might engage with, analyze, describe, and critique the functions and qualities of video game music and the degree to which it expresses a particular mood or narrative, matches a game’s design and play, or adds to the player’s overall experience. Two tools used by creators of video game music, cue sheets and emotion maps (Collins, 2008), might be used in a classroom context as graphic organizers for analyzing interactive video game music. Cue sheets are used by composers and programmers to identify a game’s components, describe the characteristics of the components and events that might take place, and list associated musical content. Cue sheets do not display music occurring linearly in time, instead outlining when music might occur based on a player’s interaction with the game and how the music matches the player’s actions. Emotion maps represent the various events and components in a game and trace the emotional trajectory as it rises, falls, and plateaus throughout gameplay (Collins, 2008). Providing students with opportunities to use and create cue sheets and emotion maps allows for a concrete

228

Evan S. Tobias

representation of the nonlinear nature of video game music and its relationship to games and gameplay, and for extending students’ engagement with video games from play to playful analysis.

Creating Original Video Game Music Music education and video game literacies share a common value in the creation of original content by students and gamers (Gee, 2004; Squire, 2008). Music classrooms could function as interdisciplinary studios in which students embody the role of video game composers and use their gameplay, listening, analysis, and critique along with tools such as cue sheets and emotion maps to inform their creation of interactive video game music. Creating original video game music would require students to make musical decisions that encompass expressing the mood of an event or scene, appropriate leitmotifs or themes for game components, the relationship of musical content to gameplay and other parts of the music to allow for interactivity, logical loop points in the music, and other issues that arise from their engagement with the game. Students’ experience and knowledge of video games would thus intertwine with their musical learning and musicianship. Music educators interested in connecting music creation to aspects audio engineering and game environments may explore software applications such as FMOD or Wwise that enable one to control how music is experienced within the game environment in relation to gameplay. Expanding the ways that music programs conceptualize original music creation to include interactive media and video games has great potential. Composers such as Winifred Phillips (2014) who create music for videogames and discuss their processes offer compelling ideas ripe for music programs. Helping students create music for multimodal, nonlinear, and interactive contexts may require music educators to rethink how they approach compositional pedagogy, integrate technology, and teach concepts such as musical structure and development.

Creating Music in the Game Environment In addition to composing music contributing to the immersive environments and virtual worlds of video games, students might compose in-​game and create music to be played in a game environment. At the height of rhythm action game’s popularity, compositional systems such as Guitar Hero’s GH Mix and Rock Band’s integration of music created with the software application Reaper with a Rock Band plug-​in,5 offered interesting opportunities for students to both play the games and create original music. A player using GH Mix could create vocal, keyboard, rhythm guitar, lead guitar, and drum tracks in preexisting or user-​created tonal systems using the guitar and

Let’s Play!

229

drum controllers. The music, notated with Guitar Hero’s icon system could be uploaded to the game’s online network for others to download and perform in the game environment on their own console systems. The Rock Band Network, created by the video game company Harmonix, allows original music to be translated into Rock Band songs for play on the Xbox 360 system and in some cases the PlayStation 3. Using the software sequencing program Reaper and a Rock Band one can create and record music using both digital audio and MIDI, adapt the song for each difficulty level, assign the musical content to the game’s guitar, drum, and microphone controllers, and have the song played through the Rock Band video game. The ability to translate any type of recorded music into a playable song in Rock Band opens exciting possibilities for music education. As the popularity of rhythm action games has waned, games allowing one to create, layer, and remix music seem to be moving from console systems to mobile gaming devices and phones with varied notation systems and interfaces for creating (O’Leary & Tobias, 2017). However, games such as Little Big Planet continue to include creation systems that function in ways similar to digital audio workstations that people can use to create music within the game environment. Regardless of the specific music creation system in a game environment, issues such as sonic aspects of the music, its visual representation, the extent to which it can be played by the composer and others, and the constraints one faces when attempting to realize one’s ideal song can be addressed as students create music in-​ game. Students can also reflect on and consider solutions to constraints such as GH Mix’s limited harmonic and timbral options. With a teacher’s guidance, students creating music in video game environments could work through musical problems, eventually transitioning to other media and tools to create their music. In this way the game acts as a site for musical exploration, decision-​making, thinking, and learning. Opportunities for students, whether in rock bands creating original music or brass quintets performing baroque works, to have their music played with controllers in a video game environment offer varied entry points into these musics and raise compelling questions about what it means to create, listen to, and perform music in this context. Whether deciding how to distribute brass quintet parts across the game controllers or visualizing the rhythms of an original riff, students’ use of video games in the music classroom affords new ways of interacting with music from multiple viewpoints. The implications of creating, arranging, and playing Gabrieli on a plastic guitar controller or samba on rubber drums are yet to be seen.

Discussing Game-​Related Issues Music video games provide a wealth of entry points for integrating relevant sociocultural issues in music classrooms. Music educators can tease out issues intertwined with game design and play for critical investigation (Squire, 2008). For example,

230

Evan S. Tobias

avatars might be critiqued in terms of gendered and cultural norms and stereotypes. The games’ musical themes and timbres used to evoke a sense of place, culture, or ethnicity can be investigated to determine the degree to which they reflect related musics and draw on cultural tropes. Analysis of the relationship between video games, the music industry, and music distribution may assist students to develop sophisticated understandings of the role that music and video games play in their lives. By using video game music as a springboard for exploring larger musical and sociocultural issues music educators can help students think deeply and critically about media in which they immerse themselves.

Modding Music Education If music classrooms are to include multiple music literacies and music situated in and emergent from video games and gameplay, changes in pedagogy, curriculum, and classroom structure are in order. What steps might one take to create an environment conducive to the ways of thinking through and being musical discussed throughout this chapter? In other words, how might we mod music education? Amid many possible modifications to music education the following five take into account possibilities that video games and gameplay have for expanding music teaching and learning. The first mod consists of allowing video games to coexist with other texts, instruments, and resources used in music classrooms and ensembles. This means moving beyond a dichotomy between virtual and physical musical engagement and allowing the virtual worlds of video games to merge with those of music classrooms. In modded music classrooms one might find guitar, drum, keyboard, and microphone controllers next to guitars, drums, keyboards, and microphones; students playing the game Rock Band and in rock bands; or ensembles playing video game music according to the gameplay projected on a screen as the score. Music educators would play a role in weaving these various experiences together to help students make connections between the intersections of game, social, and classroom spaces. Second, we might embrace a mix of musical and gaming cultures, where students work within and across affinity groups on projects connected to their play (Gee, 2004; Squire, 2008). Contextualizing gameplay within curricular projects and drawing on students’ situated experience with video games will prevent games from being relegated to disconnected activities. Project-​based music classrooms that foster affinity spaces require flexible teaching and an environment in which students’ learning emerges from their play and project work, their knowledge is distributed across the class, and connections are made beyond the classroom (Gee, 2004). In such classrooms some students might play a game and analyze its music on one side of the room while others on the opposite side create or perform original video game music, with students moving between groups to collaborate. This may mean moving away from strict sequential plans or disconnected activities and

Let’s Play!

231

allowing for a degree of spontaneity and learning that emerges from students’ play but is contextualized within a project or unit. While logistical issues abound, careful consideration and planning can provide an environment conducive to this type of learning and play. Third, music educators might build on the affordances of video games, treating their constraints as learning opportunities. Allowing students to experience, think through, and address the limitations of music video games provides a rich context for constructing musical understanding. Music educators can play an important role in this process by helping students identify and negotiate constraints and affordances while giving them space to generate their own understandings through experience. The fourth mod involves embracing multimodality, nonlinearity, and interactivity as they pertain to video games and music. The multimodal and interactive nature of video games provides alternative paradigms for thinking through music in terms of space, structure, action, and other concepts. Classrooms embracing multimodality, nonlinearity, and interactivity would include a wide variety of media and ways for students to engage with music. Taken-​for-​granted notions such as scores, instruments, musical development, and playing music might be interpreted widely and reframed in terms of new technologies and literacies. Finally, music educators should act as facilitators. The previously mentioned mods, while alluding to an increased degree of student choice and freedom, do not imply that music classrooms would be unstructured or that music educators have no role. It is critical to find an ideal balance between scaffolding and supporting students’ learning without interfering in their work and construction of understanding (Green, 2008; Hargreaves, Marshall, & North, 2003). Just as video games have built-​in structures and design, music educators have a role to play in scaffolding students’ play and learning by assessing their progress, providing feedback and information, and ensuring an optimal balance between the challenges they face and their abilities to work through the issues at hand (Gee, 2007; Wiggins, 2009). This includes encouraging students to reflect on their experiences and facilitating their ability to make connections between gameplay and musicianship. While it is not necessary for music educators to become video game experts, they could benefit from becoming literate in gaming and its culture by engaging in it themselves. Collaborating with colleagues in disciplines ranging from game studies to computer programming could further one’s knowledge and forge new ways of being musical (Lum, 2009). In modding music education we might then play music and video games with our students.

Building a Research Agenda Building a research agenda that seeks to better understand video games’ impact on musical understanding and experience as well as their potential use in teaching

232

Evan S. Tobias

and learning music will assist music educators in addressing the ubiquity of video games in popular culture and young persons’ lives. This requires research of video gameplay both in and out of school contexts. The following areas suggest possible pathways as starting points on which interested researchers may expand:

1. Determining how video games affect the development of students’ musical understanding 2. Determining what students are learning about music and how they are learning music through engaging with video games 3. Learning if and to what extent playing music in video games impacts one’s performance abilities in musical contexts outside video games and vice versa 4. Gaining a deeper understanding of young peoples’ Discourse and social interactions surrounding their engagement with music video games 5. Determining affordances and constraints of music video games 6. Learning what takes place in music classrooms that integrate video games and gaming culture 7. Determining how music education and musicianship can inform video game development

This agenda requires a broad spectrum of research methods. Whether conducting surveys of gamers or ethnographic studies of music classrooms that integrate video games, music educators ought to consider working on interdisciplinary collaborative research projects benefiting from shared expertise of colleagues in fields such as game studies and musicology (Lum, 2009). While this chapter has focused on commercial off-​the-​shelf games for console systems, a research agenda should also include video games that are played on computers and mobile platforms such as handheld systems and smart phones.

Looking Forward Squire (2008) suggests that as games become more culturally entrenched, the idea of using games in education may be passing from an opportunity to an imperative, if we are to create an education system that adequately prepares students for life in an information/​ knowledge rich economy. (p. 663)

Music educators should consider what it means to teach and learn music as musical engagement becomes increasingly multimodal and interactive. Though video games are neither equivalent to nor replacements for traditional forms of musical performance, listening, analysis, or creation, they are an interactive medium with potential to transform how young people engage with and understand music. Integrating

Let’s Play!

233

video games in music education requires music educators’ willingness to design experiences and contextualize students’ gameplay within broader conceptions of musical literacies, engagement, and learning (Gee, 2004; Squire, 2006, 2008). It is up to music educators to adapt to these societal changes in how people learn music and modify their pedagogies and curricula in a manner that is thoughtful and informed.

Reflective Questions



1. How might you connect to, recontextualize, and capitalize on the interest and knowledge students bring with them as a result of their immersion in video games and virtual worlds? 2. In what ways do you or could you mod your pedagogy and curriculum to reflect the kinds of experiences and learning that new literacies, video games, and virtual worlds provide? What steps might you need to take for this to occur? 3. Where are the spaces in your curriculum in which game culture and music-​making could take place simultaneously? 4. How might your program inform and advance the work of future video game designers, programmers, and composers?

KEY SOURCES To expand one’s perspective on video games and education I recommend Gee’s (2007) book on videogames and learning, as well as Squire’s (2008) chapter on video game literacy. Collins’s (2008) book Game Sound offers an excellent in-​depth look at the role of audio in video games. Those interested in broadening and reconceptualizing notions of literacy would benefit from reading Lankshear and Knobel’s (2006) book on new literacies.

NOTES 1. All references to Guitar Hero in this chapter include the fourth iteration, Guitar Hero: World Tour and the versions that followed, up to and including Band Hero. 2. An avatar is the character representing the player in a video game. 3. The Move and Kinect, gestural controllers for the PlayStation 3 and Xbox 360, respectively, portend an expansion of music-​focused video games controlled by players’ movements.

234

Evan S. Tobias

4. While these video games have Entertainment Software Rating Board (ESRB) “Teen” ratings, the majority of music in Rapstar contains explicit language that may not be appropriate in certain school contexts. 5. A plug-​in is a software program that can be used within the environment of another software program.

REFERENCES Auerbach, B. (2010). Pedagogical applications of the video game Dance Dance Revolution to aural skills instruction. Music Theory Online, 16(1). Retrieved from http://​mto. societymusictheory.org/​issues/​mto.10.16.1/​mto.10.16.1.auerbach.html. Campbell, P. S. (2004). Teaching music globally:  Experiencing music, expressing culture. New York: Oxford University Press. Cassidy, G. G., & Paisley, A. M. (2013). Music-​games: A case study of their impact. Research Studies in Music Education, 35(1), 119–​138. Cheng, W. (2014). Sound play: Video games and the musical imagination. New York: Oxford University Press. Clements, A. C., Cody, T., & Gibbs, B. (2008). Interactive gaming: Musical communities in virtual and imagined worlds. Paper presented at the Cultural Diversity in Music Education Nine, Seattle. Collins, K. (2008). Game sound: An introduction to the history, theory, and practice of video game music and sound design. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Collins, K. (2013). Playing with sound: A theory of interacting with sound and music in video games. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Eisner, E. (1991). Rethinking literacy. Educational Horizons, 69(3), 120–​128. Gee, J. P. (2004). Situated language and learning:  A critique of traditional schooling. New York: Routledge. Gee, J. P. (2007). What video games have to teach us about learning and literacy (rev. & updated ed.). New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Gee, J. P. (2008). Social linguistics and literacies (3rd ed.). London: Routledge. Gower, L., & McDowall, J. (2012). Interactive music video games and children’s musical development. British Journal of Music Education, 29(1), 91–​105. Green, L. (2008). Music, informal learning and the school:  A new classroom pedagogy. Aldercott, UK: Ashgate. Hargreaves, D. J., Marshall, N. A., & North, A. C. (2003). Music education in the twenty-​first century: A psychological perspective. British Journal of Music Education, 20(2), 147–​163. Harwood, E. (1998). Music learning in context: A playground tale. Research Studies in Music Education, 11(1), 52–​60. Huiberts, S., & van Tol, R. (2007). Pretty ugly game sound study [website]. Retrieved from http://​prettyuglygamesoundstudy.com. Kemp, M., Summers, T., & Sweeney, M. (eds.). (2016). Ludomusicology: Approaches to video game music. United Kingdom: Equinox. Kress, G., & Van Leeuwen, T. (2001). Multimodal discourse: The modes and media of contemporary communication. London: Arnold. Lankshear, C., & Knobel, M. (2006). New literacies: Everyday practices and classroom learning (2nd ed.). Berkshire, U.K.: Open University Press.

Let’s Play!

235

Lum, C.-​H. (2009). Learning from digital natives:  Children’s thoughts on music video gaming. Orff Echo, 42(1), 25–​29. Marsh, K., & Young, S. (2006). Musical play. In G. E. McPherson (ed.), The child as musician: A handbook of musical development (pp. 289–​310). New York: Oxford University Press. Miller, K. (2009). Schizophonic performance: Guitar Hero, Rock Band, and virtual virtuosity. Journal of the Society for American Music, 3(4), 395–​429. O’Leary, J., & Tobias, E. S. (2017). Sonic participatory cultures within, through, and around video games. In R. Mantie & G. D. Smith (eds.), The Oxford handbook of music making and leisure (pp. 541–​564). New York: Oxford University Press. O’Meara, D. (2016). Rocksmith and the shaping of player experience. In M. Austin (ed.), Music video games: Performance, politics, and play (pp. 229–​250). New York: Bloomsbury. Paney, A. S. (2015). Singing video games may help improve pitch-​matching accuracy. Music Education Research, 17(1), 48–​56. Peppler, K., Downton, M., Lindsay, E., & Hay, K. (2011). The Nirvana effect: Tapping video games to mediate music learning and interest. International Journal of Learning and Media, 3(1), 41–​59. Phillips, W. (2014). A composer’s guide to game music: Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Schultz, P. (2008). Music theory in music games. In K. Collins (ed.), From Pac-​Man to pop music (pp. 177–​188). Aldershot, U.K.: Ashgate. Smith, J. (2004). I can see tomorrow in your dance: A study of Dance Dance Revolution and music video games. Journal of Popular Music Studies, 16(1), 58–​84. Squire, K. (2006). From content to context: Videogames as designed experience. Educational Researcher, 35(8), 19–​29. Squire, K. (2008). Video-​game literacy:  A literacy of expertise. In J. Coiro, M. Knobel, C. Lankshear, & D. J. Leu (eds.), Handbook of research on new literacies (pp. 635–​670). New York: Lawrence Erlbaum. Squire, K. (2011). Video games and learning: Teaching and participatory culture in the digital age. New York: Teachers College Press. Stevens, R., Satwicz, T., & McCarthy, L. (2008). In-​game, in-​room, in-​world: Reconnecting video game play to the rest of kids’ lives. In K. Salen (ed.), The ecology of games: Connecting youth, games, and learning (pp. 41–​66). Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Summers, T. (2016). Understanding video game music. Cambridge, U.K.:  Cambridge University Press. Tobias, E. S., & O’Leary, J. (2017) . Video games. In A. King, E. Himonides, & S. A. Ruthmann (eds.), The Routledge Companion to Music, Technology, and Education (pp. 263–​272). New York: Routledge. Warschauer, M., & Ware, P. (2008). Learning, change, and power: Competing frames of technology and literacy. In J. Coiro, M. Knobel, C. Lankshear, & D. J. Leu (eds.), Handbook of research on new literacies (pp. 215–​240). New York: Taylor and Francis. Wiggins, J. (2009). Teaching for musical understanding (2nd ed.). Rochester, MI: Center for Applied Research in Musical Understanding. Zehnder, S. M., & Lipscomb, S. D. (2006). The role of music in video games. In P. Vorderer & J. Bryant (eds.), Playing video games: Motives, responses, and consequences (pp. 241–​258). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum.

Chapter 15

COLLABORATIVE DIGITAL MEDIA PERFORMANCE WITH GENERATIVE MUSIC SYSTEMS Andrew R. Brown and Steven C. Dillon

Music is inherently active and interactive, and music history is replete with examples of technically enabled innovations. Digital media systems, like technologies before them, provide a range of enhanced music performance opportunities. In this chapter we outline a new class of digital performance activities that maintain the well-​established benefits of ensemble performance while adding cultural and pedagogical value by leveraging the capabilities and cachet of digital media practices. Digital media performance involves the live creation of audiovisual material using a computing device, typically a personal computer or mobile device. Often the practice involves the manipulation of prepared audio or visual materials rather than direct production of sound or image by explicit gestural control, as is typical for acoustic sounds or physical art materials. Professional musicians use programs such as Ableton Live, Traktor DJ Studio, or Max/​MSP for the production and performance of music involving complex musical parts. With visual performance and

Collaborative Digital Media Performance

237

manipulation, software such as Resolume, ArKaos, or VDMX artists can create expressive multimedia performances. Another class of software employs generative algorithms, which involve the application of rule-​based musical algorithms (Galanter, 2003). These kinds of software create media output that participants can manipulate via parameters that control and customize the material, often radically varying the results. While generative software systems are constantly evolving, this approach has become viable as a basis for solo and group performance that scaffolds activities, maintains the values of traditional ensemble practices, and merges approaches from electronic and exhibition cultures. Typically a collaborative media performance using generative software occurs in one of three configurations:

1. A group of artists with each performer having his or her own digital media performance system (computer and software) that coordinate his or her activities 2. One digital media performance system controlled by several artists, usually by connecting a range of hardware devices, allowing parallel interactions 3. A mixed ensemble of artists coordinating their activities and playing digital and traditional instruments

For our research in this area we developed a specialized software application called jam2jam. We did this because much of the professional software was quite complicated to use, therefore excluding a wide range of potential users, because many of the features required for a fluent ensemble experience are not available in professional software, and because it allowed us to experiment with a variety of simplified interfaces (Brown et al., 2009). We also wanted tight integration between music and visuals, and to have the flexibility to add features (such as uploading and sharing on a social networking site) as they became relevant. The jam2jam software allowed participants to manipulate generative music and video (or still image animations) in real time. The jam2jam systems can be connected over a local area network or over the internet to create ensembles, and all networked jam2jam systems have their parameters and timing synchronized. The software is controlled by a computer keyboard and mouse or via inexpensive external MIDI controllers. Performances can be recorded as videos, and interactions are captured as data files that can be visualized (Brown, 2010), and an audio input can incorporate external sounds into the recording. Generative music and art is an emerging practice that uses procedural invention, usually articulated as computer code, as a creative technique to produce music and visual media. These kinds of generative processes are used by computational artists and electronic performers in fields such as Live Coding; a computational practice where programmers write computer code to make music in real-​time performance (Brown, 2006). For our research we utilized simplified visual or physical interfaces for jam2jam that allow participants to control the elements of sounds

238

Andrew R. Brown and Steven C. Dillon

such as pitch, timbre, note density, volume, tempo, and duration, and visual effects such cross-​fade, blur, saturation, and so on. We suggest that there are a number of valuable opportunities that collaborative digital media performance using generative systems offers to music education. These include:

• The accessibility of this practice to people with a range of skills and experience • The joy and cooperative learning that can occur in ensemble activities • The cultural resonance that this kind of practice can have for young people and youth culture • The ability to lower the barriers between audio and visual creative expression • The ability to capture and share the products of the activity

Our work, starting with jam2jam, has enabled us to examine these ideas in educational and community-​arts settings over an extended period of time and observe both the affordances and disruptive aspects of these technologies. We will expand on these advantages in more detail later in this chapter. More specifically, we feel that systems like jam2jam offer a number of benefits to current music education practices.

• They provide a contemporary instrument for ensemble performance that looks, for all intents and purposes, like a computer game. • They can include contemporary electronic music genres that reflect and provide access to the inherent structures and sound present in a range of youth music culture. • They provide a way of easily capturing audiovisual recordings of performances for reflection and sharing. • They provide access to musical ideas and experiences both contemporary and historical that can be of benefit for learning and teaching music. • The generative processes can provide a general stylistic frame for the learning while specific musical dimensions can be focused on through parametric control. • Performance details such as tuning and timing are deferred to fast-​track collaborative experience and higher order musical thinking.

The recording feature provides an opportunity to reflect on and analyze how players interact and how expressive their individual performances are. This enables, at a simple level, players to recall and discuss their performance and, on a more complex level, for musical understandings to be evaluated by peers and teachers. From a project-​based and informal learning point of view, digital performance environments provide a focused and less chaotic-​sounding environment for learning; the relative chaos of discovery learning and improvisation in groups is

Collaborative Digital Media Performance

239

focused by the digital framework and controlled by the ability to work silently on headphones. This enables students to interact and explore within defined musical knowledge frameworks while still being challenged to perform expressively and collaboratively. The practice of using collaborative digital media performance with systems like jam2jam we call, more succinctly, Network Jamming. We believe Network Jamming is innovative for music education in four ways.

1. It assumes that the computer can be an expressive live performance instrument. 2. It allows performers to connect over a network to create ensembles that overcome geographic barriers. 3. It enables performances to be recorded, facilitating sharing and discussion around the recorded artifact in class, for portfolio assessment, or on digital social networks. 4. It provides access to meaningful engagement with contemporary musical culture in a way that simulates live music experience.

Some of the challenges of digital media culture include the legality, ethics, and aesthetics of digital copying and reuse, use of an expanded set of sonic resources and means of transformation, and a closer connection to the shifting sands of the digital music industry and the entrepreneurship it requires. These innovations are, by their nature, “disruptive.” They raise questions about what an instrument is, what constitutes ensemble performances, and how visual media and music interact. They also present an opportunity for experiential learning that enables students to participate in the making and performance of media in ways that reflect contemporary culture and might otherwise appear to be abstract and difficult for the music teacher to manage. These kinds of activities can potentially help us to make sense of media in the world today, and are based around concrete interactive and collaborative performance and production through improvisation. In traditional ensemble pedagogy teachers are already accessing video and audio media for learning accompaniments; generative music systems take these ideas further and go beyond passive accompaniment and become interactive. The key here, however, is that while many educative qualities are already resident in traditional music ensemble performance, the use of networked digital instruments maintains these characteristics while enhancing access to the valuable relational and musical knowledge that interactive digital experiences provide. In the remainder of this chapter we will survey some of the educational and cultural contexts within which this practice has arisen; we will provide detailed discussion of the educational advantages that are presented by digital media ensembles, including the teaching practices that take advantage of these; and we will describe case study examples of the use of collaborative digital media performance with jam2jam in schools in Australia and Sweden.

240

Andrew R. Brown and Steven C. Dillon

Background Ensemble performance has been at the heart of music education for a long time. There has been a strong “band” tradition in many schools, and active performance has been particularly emphasized by experiential and constructivist pedagogy; more recently revived as part of “informal learning” approaches, which provide much needed empirical research with associated models and frameworks for teaching (Green, 2008). The opportunities for the use of digital systems (computers) in music education is vast, and covers areas including music production, performance/​presentation, reflection, and administration (Brown, 2007, 2015). In reality, student use of digital systems has been largely focused on production: for example, the use of computers for composition, songwriting, and studio recording has been widespread. In many schools computer technology is limited to the use of common practice notation programs such as Sibelius or Finale, either by teachers to prepare materials for live ensembles or by students for composing or arranging. Electronic instruments are often used to supplement parts in traditional ensembles or as contemporary performance instruments. Audio and MIDI file players provide static accompaniment for performance or rehearsal, while innovations like the Smart Music system provide a level of interactive accompaniment. Using computers as performance instruments, however, is largely unexplored and often neglected in schools, despite being well established in contemporary professional performance cultures. In industrialized societies around the world, contemporary digital performance practices have flourished. A history of electronic music has been developing since, at least, the middle of the twentieth century, when musicians such as Karlheinz Stockhausen began making music with the contemporary technology of their day:  oscillators, filters, microphones, and speakers. This newfound control over timbre created a musical focus described by Mark Prendergast as “getting right inside what it means to create sound, no longer only concentrating on the external but also the internal processes, of becoming aware of what a sound was actually like” (Prendergast, 2003:1). A whole genre of electroacoustic music grew from these roots, and these artists were early adopters of digital techniques. While its audience has largely been among those in academic circles, in more recent times performers of electronica have discovered electroacoustic music. Generative media performance systems, such as jam2jam, often rely on cyclic musical material, allowing students to understand and explore through repetition. This also makes it suitable for working with cycle-​based musical genres from minimalism to hip-​hop. From around the 1970s minimalist music was a recognizable force in Western music. With roots, arguably, in non-​Western cultures, the use of restricted materials and repetition was heard across the musical spectrum from artists such as Steve Reich, La Monte Young, Philip Glass, Brian Eno, and even in popular music, for example Mike Oldfield, Enya, Enigma, and Aphex Twin. Electronic dance music is also cycle-​based. In recent decades this culture has developed and

Collaborative Digital Media Performance

241

as an electronic form is well suited to software-​based instruments such as jam2jam. Electronic music genres have been enabled by increasingly sophisticated and inexpensive digital tools, which have also fueled the practices of the avant-​garde, electroacoustic, ambient, noise, glitch, and dance music scenes. In recent years this has accumulated into an explosion in live electronic music. The audiovisual aspects of digital media performance systems under discussion here owe much to the field of generative art. Visual artists in the mid-​twentieth century, like musicians, recognized the structural potential of computers for art-​making. Building on a rich history of mixed media works that incorporated music and sound, such as film-​based “visual music,” and with strong conceptual art foundations, visual artists quickly established a generative art tradition. In the words of a leading figure in this generative art community, Ernest Edmonds, “the computer provides a significant enhancement to our ability to work with the underlying structures of art works and systems. New concepts and constructs have become available to us in ways that enable new art forms. One significant such concept is generative art” (Edmonds, 2005:17). However, because of a less robust performance tradition in the visual arts these works are often “rendered” or, if real-​time, run autonomously as an installation, and only in some cases are they interactive. The exponential growth in computing power has been a technological driver enabling digital media ensembles. Since the 1990s, personal computers have been powerful enough for significant live digital music and, since around the turn of the century, also for live video performance. This computing power is currently becoming viable on personal mobile devices such as smartphones, which brings it well within reach of students and schools. Software such as jam2jam leverages this computing power and turns digital devices into music/​media instruments with some obvious, and some novel, educational implications. Another aspect of the digital context is the expansion of digital social networks that blossomed early in this century, powered by so-​called Web 2.0 capabilities, and has led to a groundswell in the sharing of creative outputs described by cultural theorists as “user-​generated content.” Sites such as Facebook, and YouTube and communications networks such as SMS, Messenger, Skype, and Twitter have multiplied the means of sharing ideas and information. Collaborative digital media systems, such as jam2jam, can utilize this technical infrastructure by integrating digital sharing, distribution, notification, and comment as part of the musical practice.

Educational Advantages The combination of digital systems, ensemble performance, contemporary culture, and media integration enable characteristics that we feel provide collaborative digital media performance activities with a number of educational advantages. In this section we will expand in more detail on what we see as the major advantages.

242

Andrew R. Brown and Steven C. Dillon

Accessibility The wide range of interfaces for digital instruments provide a number of access points to digital music-​making for people with differing experience and competencies. At one extreme is simple triggering of media playback, perhaps with basic control of sonic timbre and volume or visual color and contrast. At another extreme are live coding practices, where computer software for generating media is composed in a text editor as part of the performance (McLean, 2004). Most digital media performance interfaces will include a combination of selection, triggering, transformation, and gestural control over various parameters. Performance systems consist of various hardware, software, and material elements. Elements are often reorganized for each performance in a manner that hints at aspects of instrument-​making. The ability to provide, through evolving selection or customization, appropriate levels of interaction for all participants in an ensemble increases the likelihood of performers being fully engaged and achieving flow (Csikszentmihalyi, 1992). The principle is similar to varying the challenge of different repertoire in a band, but is more akin to continually varying the difficulty of the instrument. This means that rather than moving from simple to complex repertoire, the digital musician shifts from simple to complex interactions. This range of interactions can support multiple modes of engagement (Brown, 2000). We suggest that a well-​rounded musical education will include a range of ways (modes) in which students engage with music, and thus will develop a rich understanding of music and a diverse set of musical competencies. The modes of musical engagement that have guided our work with digital media ensembles and the development of jam2jam include appreciating, evaluating, exploring, directing, and embodying. Appreciating involves attending to—​listening or viewing—​the performed media and arriving at some opinion about the work. Evaluating is the role of assessing and curating, and is particularly prevalent in digital media activities that involve selecting appropriate raw materials for use during performance and selecting recorded material for sharing or choosing between creative outputs for the purposes of constructing a portfolio, playlist, or concert program. Exploring involves inquiry and creativity, typically including a search through musical options, the proposition of new musical possibilities, and undertaking trials and experiments. Directing involves the controlling, managing, or leading of musical tasks or projects. Directing can include ensemble conducting, but also composing, recording or software production, group leadership, or artistic management. Embodying involves understanding music in a way that is more than intellectual. It is at the heart of musical intuition and fluency. It is most directly associated with expressive musical gesture used in performance, but is also present in the musical imagination and audiation necessary for fluent composition and production of music. The “modes of engagement” taxonomy looks at a musician’s phenomenological experience with music, and at one level it can be seen to correlate with Keith Swanwick’s activity-​oriented “CLASP” taxonomy:  Composing, Literature study, Auditioning, Skills, and Performance (Swanwick, 1979). However, an action-​oriented

Collaborative Digital Media Performance

243

taxonomy, such as CLASP, is somewhat inconsistent with music practices in a digital age, where distinctions between activities such as composing, performing, and listening are blurred if not dissolved. We suggest that by focusing attention on a musician’s experience, or at least on the opportunities for experience, the modes of engagement provide more utility than do action-​oriented taxonomies. While the discussion of accessibility thus far could apply to many digital music systems, generative systems provide a particularly useful scaffolding that allows either direct or meta-​level control of the generated music and allows for intermittent interaction and listening that can support cognitive musical development. We therefore suggest that the combination of generative systems and various mappings with a range of physical controllers can provide a uniquely broad range of accessibility, allowing digital media ensembles to include people of varying ages, skills, experience, and interests, even within one ensemble.

Collaboration As with any group of instruments in an ensemble, a collaborative digital media performance presents the challenges of coordination and cooperation. Mixed abilities in groups are managed in most educational and community contexts through inclusive arrangements that relegate simpler parts to less experienced or able performers and more complex and challenging ones to the more experienced. An interactive digital system can facilitate performance of a complex part and provide a clear and professional sound with just a simple gesture. The engagement and the musical decision-​making process may nevertheless be substantial. Such control is not unlike conducting in that it signifies and communicates musical knowledge by manipulating a predetermined “score” and making aesthetic choices that require deep listening and communication of expressive qualities. Interacting with these kinds of digital performance systems is also much like a jazz improvisation, where the piece has an established theme or head and then players improvise within a defined harmonic and rhythmic framework. What this suggests is that with systems such as jam2jam learners can experience focused aural perception and active expressive relationships with others, not unlike conductors and jazz musicians do, prior to developing sophisticated technical expertise. The focus is on planning and executing musical gestures while anticipating and recognizing how they will sound and how your actions relate to others’. Digital media performance groups can use several digital systems, or multiple people can control one system. Using only digital systems and/​or controllers in an ensemble has the advantage of providing a quiet place (even with headphones) to rehearse and develop a performance. With several players sharing a single computer system it is possible to digitally identify and track what each player does and how often they interact. These kinds of data can be used alongside video output of performances to examine activity for feedback and, possibly, evaluation via

244

Andrew R. Brown and Steven C. Dillon

statistical measurements to examine the degree, quantity, and intensity of group interactions (Brown, 2010). Our research shows that the experience of participating in these ensembles is as authentic and meaningful as participating in an acoustic instrumental ensemble. Trials of jam2jam in eight countries over an eight-​year period confirm that participants in these ensembles can be highly engaged, and that properly structured activities enable participants to experience meaning in personal, social, and cultural ways (Dillon, 2007). In each experience of meaning, a reciprocal relationship is formed, self with self, self and other, self and culture. Each in turn feeds back into the development or transformation of self, contributing to what the philosopher Martin Buber calls “the education of character” (Buber, 1969). A mixed ensemble of digital and acoustic instruments can open up an even wider range of musical and pedagogical practices. Ensembles that feature both electric and acoustic instruments have been ubiquitous since the 1960s, when electronic music started to gather steam. A digital system can be a hub for a mixed ensemble that provides more inclusive access to ensemble experiences while increasing both the complexity of the sound world and the expressive range of the ensemble. A mixed ensemble could include performers at widely varying ranges of technical competency. What is exciting for the participants in an educational sense is that each can contribute musical gestures that are meaningful and sounds that make sense in the context of performance. They can focus on making an expressive, high quality sound and grow in their understanding of what music is and how to communicate it effectively.

Cultural Relevance A great deal of contemporary music is tightly associated with digital music-​making practices. As these are highly valued by young people, their presence in a music education program can provide it with relevance, and students with motivation. These ideas are echoed in Lucy Green’s research about informal learning practices, where students find meaning in making choices about the style of music they will engage with, which she calls “delineated” meaning; typically through an engagement with the process of songwriting performance or production (Green, 2008). Digital media performance systems enable contemporary musical styles and practices that are important to the student. Needless to say, there is a tension between the relevance of popular music as an expressive media for youth and the wider understanding of musical knowledge that carries across time, genres, cultures, and contexts. One approach is to use relevance to bring students into a broader range of cultural materials; another is to recognize that all music has particular qualities and that each can add to our understanding of expressive music-​making and musical relationships and that core musical skills can be acquired via meaningful engagement with any genre.

Collaborative Digital Media Performance

245

Digital music systems have a relatively open content position. They can as easily deal with a Mozart string quartet as they with a hip-​hop groove or a Xenakis statistical structure. However, musical styles that are inherently digital are obviously more authentically expressed on computing systems. There is educational value in engaging with music that is meaningful to the student and with a process with which the student feels he can achieve a successful outcome. We have found that a student’s inherent interest in digital media performance activities is reliant on her initial impression of the system’s stylistic setting. However, interest is a diverse process that goes beyond this to include the requirements for the interface to look appealing and understandable, and for the parameter controls to provide noticeable changes. As an example, we had a jam2jam research trial with “disengaged” Indigenous Australian students who did not initially like the first sound they encountered but loved the interface and video manipulations. Within 15 minutes of playing with the system they had managed to make it sound like a hip-​hop tune with a didgeridoo drone that appealed to them. They also were drawn to the visual performance features, which at that time involved using a webcam on the computer and some transformation controls. They did dances in front of the camera and retrieved their visual artworks from a nearby room to place in front of the webcam so they could remix the images and record the result. In this case the digital system became a playground for exploratory and embodied engagement. It also worked on a multimodal level, with some participants being attracted to the visual aspects, some to the sound, some to using it as an accompaniment for dance movement, and others as a backing for rapping free-​form lyrics. What we have perceived from repeated application in different cultural contexts, as diverse as Canto Pop songwriting in Hong Kong and remixing John Phillip Sousa in Illinois, is that it works best when media content reflects values of the local culture or subculture. This is important in ethical terms because the capacity to engage with our own culture or the culture of “others” is dependent on the user’s choice and the creator’s deeper understanding of the culture. Generally speaking, it is more ethical for a work or style to be created by the custodians of that culture, and alongside this, creation is a pedagogy that also values the practices of the culture. With jam2jam, a “scene” (music and visual material combination with which to perform) can be created quite easily from MIDI files, digital images, or video. Preparation of these materials is an important extension activity for jam2jam users, to deepen both understanding and motivation. For users of jam2jam in Illinois, it was a sense of custodianship over Sousa’s band music scores that provided both the stimulus and permission to be playful with those materials in improvisational ways. Digital media systems have the capacity to be culturally fluid like this in ways that a notated score cannot. The recognition is that the system provides a directly perceived (audiovisual) rather than abstracted discourse, and provides an exploratory or improvisational activity in which to have that discourse. Generative music systems, such as jam2jam, that allow participants to share a considerable amount of the music-​making responsibility with the instrument

246

Andrew R. Brown and Steven C. Dillon

amount to a “junior” version of normal cultural practices; in this case, of contemporary electronic media practices. Our observations about the power of accessible or junior versions of cultural practices to support creative development in ecologically valid ways concurs with the suggestion by David Perkins, about educational practices more generally, that “junior versions are the key to making learning by wholes practical and powerful” (Perkins, 2009, p.  37). In junior versions, as in games-​based learning, the experience is embedded within the tool and invites and awaits discovery by the learner, and the experience is holistic even while scaffolded. There is, in support of this approach, almost a century of electronic and digital music culture that can be accessed as a curriculum resource, and the ability to explore this culture through live interaction provides a rich framework for learning. A useful consolidation of electronic and digital music ideas and practices can be found in many books and videos, for example Audio Culture: Readings in Modern Music, by Cox and Warner (2006). This principle of junior versions is not new to music educators. We have used the phrase “Switched on Orff ” (Dillon & Hirche, 2010) to describe how our purpose-​ built digital instruments can be designed to provide clearly framed access to contemporary musical practices and to transmit musical ideas, skills, and cultural awareness. The nationalistic composers and their associated movements, such as Orff, Kodaly, and Dalcroze have each contributed both musical knowledge frameworks and pedagogical practices to music education in their own societies. What each offered were accessible and affordable instruments, a repertoire that reflected the cultural values of their time, and an approach to learning and teaching framed by performance. We suggest that what a digital performance system, such as jam-​2jam, offers is an instrument that resonates with a technological music context (including products such as computers and mobile electronic devices), and provides a performance medium that enables the sharing of digital artifacts on social networks such as YouTube and Facebook. Just as Orff xylophones provided access to orchestral percussion in a “junior” form, sized for younger hands and offering the affordances of fixed pitch and a pleasant timbre, jam2jam offers an interface that resembles a computer game and responds, by design, in a contemporary stylistic way.

Media Integration Digital media performance systems allow for the live control of both sonic and visual elements. They enable the coordinated and synchronized performance of music, images, video, sound effects, and the like. In digital media practices the distinction between audio and visual disciplines is increasingly blurred. For example, nightclub performances include both DJs and VJs (video jockeys, who perform by manipulating images in real time), record releases are almost always accompanied by music videos, and the practice of the performing audiovisualist is becoming more established (Barrett & Brown, 2009). Audiovisual linkages are reflected in arts

Collaborative Digital Media Performance

247

education and test entrenched disciplinary boundaries. We see this as an extension to existing integrations such as composing music for film snippets, or creating a music video for an original song. However, the degree of integration we seek for digital media performance is even tighter; it looks toward an almost equal role for music and visual elements and a performative treatment of these inspired by collaborations in DJ/​VJ culture and by the more experimental work of the solo audiovisualists. This capacity for media integration is technically underscored by interoperability through digitization and the fact that the digital processes act on “data” simply as numbers, with no regard as to whether that data represents sound, vision, text, or so on. Music and video are time-​based art forms, and therefore notions of structure and narrative are common to both. As a “strongly” timed art form, music has a rich history of temporal processes and structural organizational theory that can inform time-​based digital media practices. Educationally, this can help facilitate cross-​curricular activities, most obviously with the visual arts and media studies disciplines, but with other creative arts as well. Less obvious, perhaps, are the collaborative possibilities with the sciences, particularly with math, physics, and computer science, which share a technical interest in signal processing and data representation aspects of digital systems. It is also true that just as the computer has an allure to many students that can be leveraged by arts educators, so is the cultural cachet of music and visual media useful to science educators in making their offerings attractive. Another significant advantage of audiovisual integration in digital media performance systems is the opportunity for engaging audiences with multimedia presentations during performance, which, in our experience and as in commercial entertainment, provides additional engagement for audiences. Laptop music performances are often criticized for lacking visual interest for the audience, who may not be able to tell if the performer is actively controlling the output or simply checking his email. In response to this, many such performances include accompanying visual material or project the computer screen so that performers’ actions are more obvious. We have found that a successful approach to digital media performance using jam2jam is to have performers use hardware controllers connected to the computer so their gestures can be observed, and to project the generated visual materials that are synchronized to the music.

Data Capture Digital systems allow performances to be easily recorded. We need hardly mention the impact of audio and video recording on the creative industries and on arts education, which has been revolutionary, and continues to be profound. Media performance systems, such as jam2jam, not only capture the performance as a video recording, they can also capture the interactions during the performance as a data log (Brown, 2010). In the same ways that computer games like Guitar Hero monitor user interactions and

248

Andrew R. Brown and Steven C. Dillon

provide feedback to the players, data capture with digital media performance systems can provide useful feedback about user behavior, musical knowledge, and ensemble skills, and provides a rigor and accountability that the ephemeral arts traditionally have struggled to demonstrate. The very nature of the capture of artifacts of performance and production provides a more accountable way of measuring and plotting the development of understanding. While this kind of feature is as yet underexplored, the field of network theory is beginning to provide visual representation tools and statistical measurements that may be useful in the future, similarly to the ways that biomechanics has influenced sports performance development. Most of all, the recording feature provides a way of having a reflective conversation about performance, with the performance present in the conversation. Through these experiences players can become more familiar with musical elements and how they are used expressively; they can practice them, record them, and make critical reflective comment on their effectiveness and discern their interaction with others in the virtual ensemble. These systems also provide an expressive medium that allows multimodal presentations of understanding so that tacit or embodied understandings might be expressed through “showing” rather than just “saying.”

Case Study Examples In the following two case study examples we describe the application of computers as instruments in multimedia performance settings, one where the nature of the ensemble represents mixed abilities and ages and another featuring the use of both real and virtual instruments. Both examples have been drawn from the Network Jamming research project, which has examined the use of jam2jam in classroom settings (ACID, 2009). Each vignette describes the particular affordances of the generative instrument but also emphasizes the idea that the computer in these settings is an instrument for expressive performance in ensembles. While the schools are unique and quite different from mainstream education, this aspect has an advantage of demonstrating a “blue sky” or optimal learning environment. Interestingly, the quality of the creativity and engagement observed in both contexts were equally high. Results from these studies suggest that it is the collaborative creative experience that is the driver of the engagement and that the technology enables and mediates this experience to provide new opportunities for musical experiences and music learning.

Enriched Live Performance Queensland Academy of Creative Industries is part of the Queensland education system’s Smart Schools initiative. The school had up to 400 students in Years 10–​12

Collaborative Digital Media Performance

249

studying the International Baccalaureate qualification. In this case we worked with three Year 10 students; one male musician, one male filmmaker, and an accomplished female Indigenous Australian visual artist. All of the participants have a background in musical performance. These three students had experience with both improvising with jam2jam individually and in groups, and also acting as community music mentors for other students. In the case study performance they improvised with specially prepared materials and performed with a professional sound designer and DJ, Ande Foster, who created the musical materials for three of the jam2jam scenes. The visual materials for the performance were digitized images made from paintings created by the visual artist. The performance involved using their own Apple Macbook computers with projected images on three screens showing their gestural input and visual remixing. Ande Foster played a live keyboard controller slung over his neck in a guitar-​like fashion and triggering synthesizer sounds (https://​youtu.be/​f9lzLITdqAY). The performance involved several short rehearsals around the selected scene and a performance to a live audience as part of the Jamskölan 09 showcase (Brown & Dillon, 2009). What is significant about this very short event was the nature of relationships between performers from different media backgrounds and the opportunity for an interactive relationship between professional artist and students. Also novel was the fact that a filmmaker and visual artist were performing live, rather than exhibiting their expressive materials. They worked collaboratively to produce an improvised digital media concert. In this process, jam2jam provided a generative production framework, facilitated new forms of relationship, and allowed them to be playful with creative work. As small as this case study was, it represents a link to real-​world application of music into a multimedia activity and indicates the opportunity for a unique relationship with professional artists that builds on the remix culture, where “fans” do remixes of an artist’s work and share it. This vignette indicates a shift, even within that culture, from production to a performance-​centered remixing.

Mixed Ensembles At Humfryskolan in Malmo, Sweden, there is a unique curriculum. Students in the middle school program from Years 6–​9, aged 11–​14, undertake all of their activities using digital media. The school is named after Hollywood screen actor Humphrey Bogart. Students from the school stream and broadcast television productions (http://​elevblogg.blogspot.com/​) to their local community, and all of their studies of mathematics, science, English, Swedish, and the humanities are learned through music, film production, and visual arts experiences. It is a small community school with four teachers and 90 students. The Network Jamming project at the school utilized the music and video production aspects of the school’s approach, and teachers at the school have been

250

Andrew R. Brown and Steven C. Dillon

using the collaborative features of jam2jam to encourage cooperative and creative approaches to media. The music teacher leading this activity suggested: “this [jam-​ 2jam] gives me the perfect tool for working with cooperation and socialization” (see http://​eprints.qut.edu.au/​47579/​2/​47579.pdf). The features of accessible interaction with music-​making are also a characteristic of the work at the school. This vignette focuses on a mixed ensemble performance by a group of four students; two Year 6 girls who had limited formal music training and played jam-​ 2jam and two Year 9 boys with more experience who played electric bass and guitar. The preparation for the performance involved an aural perception activity, with the group exploring a jam2jam scene to establish the key and rhythmic pulse of the song, and a series of exploratory improvisations followed by reflective discussions among the members about structure, balance, timbre change, dynamics, and density of activity. The jam2jam interface framed these kinds of musical transformations and allowed gestural interaction to increase or decrease the activity within each parameter. This allowed an expressive language to develop and also provided a way of demonstrating embodied or intuitive understandings using simple gestures. The performance was streamed live by the teacher from his mobile phone and received by an audience of music education academics at the Research in Music Education conference in the United Kingdom in April 2009. (http://​www.youtube. com/​watch?v=fgJ56z7KVDY). There are a number of factors that emerge from this very unique performance. First, the jam2jam parameters provided a framework of musical knowledge, embedded within the interface, that provided a language that was used to discuss musical choices. Performance with these parameters provides an embodied way of exploring the expressive qualities of each parameter and part and of demonstrating understanding through manipulation and control. In this case, where the group members had varying prior instrumental technique, jam2jam provided interactions that were inclusive of these multiple abilities, and assisted with a quality output so that the ensemble collaboration remained productive. The video recordings of performances made by the teacher provided a reflective mechanism, one where music-​ making was ever-​present in the conversation about music-​making. Furthermore, this example demonstrated a new and exciting form of performance, internet streaming of digital video, enabling the students to perform to an audience located in another country, and post their performance on YouTube for friends and family to see. This case study demonstrates how students can make sense of media in the world today through actively participating in a collaborative digital media ensemble.

Conclusion In this chapter we have examined the use of collaborative digital media performance systems that present significant innovations for music education. These systems provide both pedagogic and musical knowledge opportunities that potentially provide

Collaborative Digital Media Performance

251

wider access, deeper understandings, and more accountable means of evaluating learning. The innovations in this approach are somewhat disruptive, and are designed to enhance existing paradigms, but not always to replace them. We have interrogated the practice of collaborative digital media performance and presented ways digital media systems can amplify and enhance the inherent qualities of group music-​ making by increasing opportunities for access, cultural relevance, interdisciplinarity, and reflection. While we have focused mainly on our experiences with the jam2jam software we consider that this provides an empirical lens on the use of junior versions of digital performance systems in music education per se.

Reflective Questions

1. Consider a computer as an instrument and discuss how it might apply in your context. 2. What advantages do digital performance systems like jam2jam provide for individual and ensemble music learning in your context? 3. What are the similarities and differences between a digital system as an ensemble and a traditional one?

ACKNOWLEDGMENT The authors acknowledge the Australasian Cooperative Research Centre for Interaction Design (ACID) for its support of the Network Jamming project, Apple Australia and the Apple University Consortium for the supply of computers, and the Queensland University of Technology’s Institute of Creative Industries and Innovation grant scheme for research support. We would like to acknowledge Andrew Sorensen, Thorin Kerr, and Craig Gibbons for their jam2jam software development efforts, and to thank the international Network Jamming research team, especially Per Sköld and Eva Saether in Sweden, who have contributed much to the application of jam2jam presented in this chapter.

KEY SOURCE Brown, A. & S. Dillon (2007). Networked improvisational musical environments: Learning through online collaborative music making. In J. Finney & P. Burnard, Music Education with Digital Technology (pp. 96–​106). New York: Continuum International Publishing Group.

252

Andrew R. Brown and Steven C. Dillon

WEBSITES ACID. 2009. Network Jamming Research Project. Available at http://​acid.net.au/​index0b83. html. Jam2jam Software Information:  http://​explodingart.com/​jam2jam/​jam2jam/​Home/​Home. html. Humfyskolan Blog: http://​elevblogg.blogspot.com/​. Jam2jam performance examples: http://​www.youtube.com/​user/​jam2jamVideo. A DJ software primer: http://​arstechnica.com/​software/​news/​2006/​09/​dj-​software.ars/​.

REFERENCES Barrett, L., & A. R. Brown. (2009). Towards a definition of the performing AudioVisualist. In A. Sorensen (ed.), Improvise: The Australasian Computer Music Conference (pp. 46–​55). Brisbane: Australasian Computer Music Association. Brown, A. R. (2000). Modes of compositional engagement. Mikropolyphonie, 6. Retrieved from http://​pandora.nla.gov.au/​tep/​10054. Brown, A. R. (2006). Code jamming. M/​C Journal 9(6). http://​journal.media-​culture.org.au/​ 0612/​03-​brown.php. Brown, A. R. (2007). Computers in music education:  Amplifying musicality. New York: Routledge. Brown, A. R. (2010). Visualizing digital media interactions: Providing feedback on jam2jam AV performances. In R. Robinson & M. Bodket (eds.), OzCHI 2010: design-​interaction-​ participation (pp. 196–​199). Brisbane: CHISIG. Brown, A. R. (2015). Music technology and education:  Amplifying musicality (2nd ed.). New York: Routledge. Brown, A. R., & Dillon, S. C. (2009). Jamskolän 09 Report. Brisbane: Australasian Cooperative Research Centre for Interaction Design. Retrieved from http://​www.lulu.com/​shop/​steve-​ dillon-​and-​andrew-​brown/​jamskölan-​09-​report/​ebook/​product-​17350566.html. Brown, A. R., Dillon, S. C., Kerr, T., & Sorensen, A. (2009). Evolving interactions: Agile design for networked media performance. In K. Jesper, J. Paay, S. Viller, & R. Schultz (eds.), OzCHI (pp. 41–​48). Melbourne: CHISIG. Buber, M. (1969). Between man and man. (Trans. and introduction by R. G. Smith). London: Fontana. Cox, C., & Warner, D. (eds.) (2006). Audio culture:  Readings in modern music. New York: Continuum. Csikszentmihalyi, M. (1992). Flow: The psychology of optimal experience. London: Rider Books. Dillon, S. C. (2007). Music, meaning and transformation: Meaningful music making for life. Cambridge: Cambridge Scholars Publishing. Dillon, S. C., & Hirche, K. (2010). Navigating technological contexts and experience design in music education. In J. Ballantyne & B. L. Bartleet (eds.), Navigating music education (pp. 175–​192). Newcastle upon Tyne: Cambridge Scholars Publishing. Edmonds, E. (2005). On new constructions in art. East Sussex, UK: Artists Bookworks. Galanter, P. (2003). What is generative art? Complexity theory as a context for art theory. In C. Soddu (ed.), Proceedings of 6th International Conference on Generative Art (p. 219).

Collaborative Digital Media Performance

253

Milan:  Generative Design Lab. Retrieved from http://​philipgalanter.com/​downloads/​ ga2003_​paper.pdf. Green, L. (2008). Music, informal learning and the school. London: Ashgate. McLean, A. (2004). Hacking Perl in nightclubs. Retrieved from http://​www.perl.com/​pub/​a/​ 2004/​08/​31/​livecode.html. Perkins, D. (2009). Making learning whole: How seven principles of teaching can transform education. San Francisco: Jossey-​Bass. Prendergast, M. (2003). The ambient century: From Mahler to Moby—​The evolution of sound in the electronic age. London: Bloomsbury. Swanwick, K. (1979). A basis for music education. London: Routledge.

Chapter 16

MUSIC LEARNING AND NEW MEDIA IN VIRTUAL AND ONLINE ENVIRONMENTS S. Alex Ruthmann and David G. Hebert

The recent shift, seen now in much of the world, from a traditional Eurocentric curriculum (typically emphasizing Western classical music) to one that embraces a wider diversity of musical practices is generally based on an interrelated set of foundational arguments, many of which are quite relevant to the theme of online and virtual music learning. One impetus springs from the recognition that in many nations, the voices and histories of minority groups have tended to receive less attention in educational settings, leading to an undesirable reification of systemic cultural alienation. Through free and “user friendly” technologies, many contemporary youth are creating and sharing music online with personal websites and online networks of peers that celebrate shared musical interests. The use of such technologies for music learning enables lessons to be delivered in ways that are attractive to the new generation of students.

Music Learning and New Media

255

Introduction to Music Learning and New Media Rationales for Diversification of Music Education Environments A rationale for moving music education from the in-​person to the virtual and online is the increasingly widespread understanding that through globalization all nations have become more intricately connected and one can no longer question whether one can be considered fully educated in a field such as music if one knows nothing of the musical practices in the other 70% of the world (e.g., outside Europe and North America, etc.). The web now enables young students to instantly experience the diverse world (and its array of musics) in ways that were inconceivable to previous generations. A  contributing factor to this diversification is the widespread movement toward democratization of knowledge and general collapse of elitist values that sustain beliefs in the social constructs of “high” classical and “low” popular cultures, a perspective that also has implications for both popular music genres and the traditional musics of nonliterate peoples. There are also practical, utilitarian, and economic rationales for the inclusion of genres outside Western classical music in schools, especially because these genres occupy by far the largest current and emerging markets in the field of music. They are devised, recorded, mixed, disseminated, and consumed via new music technologies, many of which merely require a laptop computer and free downloadable software. Finally, there are exclusively musical rationales for including genres other than European art music and its related performance technologies in the curriculum. Many other musical genres are more readily conducive to the development of compositional, improvisational, and multi-​instrumental skills, and more often permit creative experimentation of the kind that is actively squelched in the European classical art music tradition, for which “correct” interpretation and performance practice is often perceived as sacred. Therefore, it seems fair to suggest that an education that covers exclusively European art music, along with its historical technologies, may include many positive features, but is also to some extent rightfully regarded nowadays as a poor education, in the sense that it is incomplete. A mathematics curriculum that covers addition, multiplication, division, and subtraction, but with application only in a limited area and not applied to the “real world” of students’ lives, would be equally incomplete. In mathematics, it is reasonable to assume that only certain students will pursue calculus to a deep level, and in some programs there may be much more of an emphasis on statistics than in others, for example, but a certain basic comprehensive knowledge of a subject is expected in other fields, such as mathematics, as it should be in music. One could also argue that the same claim can be made of music programs in which students are never even once expected to create a song of their own or use digital technologies in the

256

S. Alex Ruthmann and David G. Hebert

music classroom. The neglect of creativity in our field is a closely related issue for which technology provides possible solutions.

Popular Music and Technology as Empowerment Unlike most other arts, the ideology of “correctness” is so powerful in the European classical music education tradition that one of the only ways young students can truly experience the “making” of their own music is to start on their own outside of formal school settings. Interestingly, in this regard the emerging field of popular music pedagogy seems to be based on many of the same principles as multicultural music education, and might perhaps best be seen as an offshoot from this movement (Smith, Moir, Brennan, Kirkman, & Rambarran, 2017). We would like to suggest in this chapter that applications of music technology may also be seen in a similar light, since many new technologies enable new forms of musical empowerment that are not as culture-​bound as more traditional forms of instruction. An empirical study by Wang and Humphreys (2009) concluded that much remains to be done in the field of music teacher education in order for music teachers to feel confident they possess the skills and understandings necessary to effectively teach both popular music and world music genres in schools in the United States, a nation in which “youth music” has been a high-​profile topic in music education for more than four decades since the original Tanglewood Symposium. Some might regard music technology as a peculiar answer to the challenges of cultural diversity in our field. Rather, we would argue that it is a natural one. An extensive ethnographic study by Patricia Shehan Campbell (2010) found that immigrant children from diverse ethnic backgrounds in the United States used new media to construct a sense of ethnic identity, including music videos and music-​ infused electronic games. Kathryn Marsh (2008), in her studies of musical play among diverse children in several nations, observed that “technology has an almost unlimited capacity to broaden children’s auditory field” (p. 5). Eva Saether (2008) has also emphasized the need to use the “music of the youth culture as a starting point” when teaching diverse students. As such, we argue that new technologies are increasingly opening an array of new possibilities in this area, particularly as globalization intensifies (Trulsson, Burnard, & Söderman, 2015). It seems important to also mention that we are not the first researchers to examine the question of how new technologies can enhance the promotion of cultural diversity in music education. More than 20 years ago, two published conference papers were among the very first in this area (Cooke, 1995; Tuttle, 1995). Although we will discuss new developments in particular music education programs and introduce some specific tools, we will focus more on the function and application of various types of tools (which we suspect will turn out to have enduring, if not perennial qualities) rather than idiosyncratic factors unique to specific programs or products. We will also strictly limit our focus to music education, despite controversial

Music Learning and New Media

257

assertions by some scholars that the impact of technologies has become so profound as to require teaching of integrated “Media Arts” or even for arts programs to be combined with technology education (c.f. Hebert, 2016).

Themes and Concepts in Mediated Musical Experiences “Qualities of Virtuality” in Online and “Blended” Music Learning According to the findings of one study, which compared the learning of Hindustani songs in live and online environments, “online students out-​performed offline students in every written test. In addition, the instructor reported that online students more accurately pronounced the notes while singing classical Indian songs” (Mahabir, Thomas, & Ramasmmoj, 2000). On careful examination, one finds that this study had various methodological flaws, yet it raises some intriguing questions worth further exploration. To what extent can multicultural music learning be effective in an online environment? In order to facilitate quality assurance in online music education environments, there appears to be a need for more robust theorization regarding qualities of virtuality in relation to musical experience (see fig. 16.1). According to our conceptualization (Hebert, 2009a), one important quality of virtuality is richly synchronous interactivity, meaning environments that enable instant multimedia communication and responsiveness between musicians, teachers, and students. This is in contrast to what may be seen as the equivalent of a correspondence course that makes use of email rather than conventional mail (a fairly accurate description of some online courses), or the equivalent of a commercial multitrack studio project in which musicians record their individual parts without ever even meeting each other. Richness and instantaneousness of interactivity is constrained whenever the attention of participants is excessively divided, much as

Figure 16.1  Theorizing qualities of virtuality.

258

S. Alex Ruthmann and David G. Hebert

in the case of a classroom teacher who has to respond to questions from 20 students all at once, or an orchestra with an upcoming performance that can only afford sectional rehearsals (e.g. woodwinds only, strings only, etc.) due to either scheduling conflicts or the unavailability of large rehearsal rooms. Contrarily, an experience featuring richly synchronous activity will very closely resemble the instantaneous pace and intensity of a live meeting among all participants, but may take place between people who are physically distant from one another. Another important quality of virtuality is the exploitation of unique possibilities. In other words, the precise reasons for delegating particular activities to the online/​virtual rather than offline/​real space should be clearly rationalized according to the characteristic advantages and disadvantages of each environment. Technology should not be used simply because it is available or because it seems to enable further trimming of travel budgets. Some materials traditionally presented in a lecture format can now be digitized and offered on a course website, to read or watch outside class time, leaving space in class for more interactive, hands-​on, and collaborative projects. Guest musicians and educators can now easily be brought into our classes live via Skype and other online conferencing technologies. In addition, the use of online discussion boards outside class time permits students to get feedback from peers and ask questions when they happen, as opposed to waiting to ask them during the scheduled class time. Still, “unique possibilities” in this context should not be taken to mean merely the “anytime/​anywhere” convenience of these most obvious examples, for new technologies have the potential to offer so much more of benefit to the learning process. Relevant activities would include requiring music education students to embed videos of their music teaching into a course website for microanalysis and both self-​and peer-​critique, or having them share their particular specialized areas of expertise by responding as musical consultants to live video of each other’s students who are struggling with specific technical challenges in their performance. Assessment and evaluation, as well as collaborative digital media performance (see Brown & Dillon, ­chapter 15), are other areas where systems may be effectively designed in an online or virtual environment to interact in response to live input from students with deliberately sequenced musical challenges that offer extremely detailed analyses of their performance (e.g., SmartMusic for assessment and evaluation and jam2jam for collaborative digital media performance). The online environment also offers an ideal space in which to showcase student work in the form of portfolios, whether it consists of videos of their teaching, recordings of their compositions, or even interactive projects that enable online visitors to contribute to ongoing musical creations (Lebler, 2015). A final quality of virtuality, sense of transcendence, should arguably serve as an ideal objective in the design of online musical environments (Bernard, 2009). Online settings that are woefully lacking in artistry abound, particularly within educational contexts. Just as a lecture, essay, or performance can be beautifully presented, so should virtual musical environments, albeit using rather different techniques. New

Music Learning and New Media

259

online social music platforms such as Noteflight, Bandcamp, PledgeMusic, and Soundtrap provide participants with the opportunity to have music present in the conversation and experience of music online (Dillon, 2007). The unique capability of modern websites to embed rich media with social collaboration technologies helps facilitate an online experience that is perceived to be as “real” in some cases as in-​person musical interactions. What would it mean for online music education to include such qualities of virtuality? One important example lies in the technological possibilities to collaborate in live music-​making, teaching, and learning with musicians in distant parts of the world, working in entirely different musical traditions within different cultural understandings of musicianship. Virtuality may offer new forms of artistic, instructional, and scholarly inspiration. The popular virtual environment Second Life already demonstrates through the metaphor of flying that there is a kind of universal desire to escape the limitations of the human body, which is to some extent achievable in an online environment. As we metaphorically escape the body even further in such domains, will we also stumble onto new vistas of artistic expression, including new musical forms? One might argue that this is already occurring in the context of Rock Band and associated musical video game practices (see Tobias, c­ hapter 14).

Online versus Face-​to-​Face: Synergies in  “Blended” Learning Ralph Schroeder and Jeremy Bailenson (2008) define virtual environments as “technologies that provide the user with the sense that they are in a space other than the physical space they are actually in, and that allow the user to interact with that space” (p. 327). However, they define multiuser virtual environments as “environments in which more than one person shares the same virtual environment, creating a sense of ‘co-​presence’ in this space with another person or persons, or of ‘being there together,’ and of being able to interact with these others . . . one has to have the experience of being there with one’s senses” (p. 328). Schroeder and Bailenson (2008) also identify one of the aims of multiuser virtual environment research as taking advantage of the opportunity to “do research that would otherwise not be possible” (p. 329). We would similarly assert that an aim of online music education should be to do teaching, learning, or musicking that would “otherwise not be possible,” and indeed that is what we find happening in some innovative programs that offer a “blended learning” approach to musical studies. Blended learning has been defined as “an amalgam of text-​based, online technology with face-​to-​face learning” (Mathur & Oliver, 2007, Blended Learning section, para. 1), and one of the strengths associated with this approach to the diversification of educational experiences is its potential to offer both the advantages of traditional face-​to-​face instruction and

260

S. Alex Ruthmann and David G. Hebert

the global/​intercultural and learner-​centered possibilities associated with online and virtual learning. The blended learning approach is bolstered by a report from the U.S. Department of Education (2009) that concluded: “in recent experimental and quasi-​experimental studies contrasting blends of online and face-​to-​face instruction with conventional face-​to-​face classes, blended instruction has been more effective, providing a rationale for the effort required to design and implement blended approaches” (p. xvii). When music instruction is planned with the ideal of “blended learning” in mind, it is possible for both forms of learning—​face-​to-​face and online/​virtual—​ to reinforce the other, creating “synergies” that compound the depth and breadth of learning that would otherwise be possible. In the case of multicultural music studies, for example, experiences interacting through an online videoconference with a classroom of music students in Zimbabwe can enhance the learning of Zimbabwean songs through streaming videos, as well as bringing live “culture-​ bearers” from the local community to the classroom, and (of course) active participation in the playing of songs on marimbas in the students’ own classroom. In these ways, learning can become multifaceted and multidimensional, appealing to a diversity of learning styles, while enabling students to recognize the connections between music learned in their classrooms and the wider world, which is rapidly becoming ever more immediate and relevant due to globalization and technological development.

(Dis)embodiment and Virtual Musical Identities As music is increasingly consumed by youth in online environments via social networks constructed of fans with shared musical tastes and associated cultural values, its role as a signifier of social identity may be exponentially reinforced by the powers of new media. Concepts such as “schizophonia” and “glocalimbodied” have been proposed as ways of thinking about how common musical experience is drastically changing as a consequence of the popularization of digital technologies (Feld, 1995; Hebert, 2009a). As music is increasingly consumed and produced via new media (rather than live, participatory experiences associated with amateur musical experiences of the past prior to the rise of recording technologies), the details of its original context tend to elude listeners. As consumers increasingly experience music in the recontextualized and interactive spaces of online and virtual environments, the inherently kinesthetic features of musical sound and corresponding embodied meanings also become increasingly elusive, challenging the conceptual limitations and future directions of musical experience. As Noriko Manabe (2008) has documented, in Japan mobile phone ring tones have been commonly used in highly creative ways to express personal identity and status among young people, with consequences for their social relationships.

Music Learning and New Media

261

Online Music and Music Teacher Education The first recent development that calls for consideration is the sudden popularization of online music education. Distance learning technologies have improved greatly since the time that results of an Australian study left the researchers “not able to conclude that the Internet is an effective medium for the delivery of musical instruction to students isolated by distance” (Bond, 2002, p. 22). In fact, one could even argue that there has been an explosion of developments in this area, yet this has not been without controversy (Hebert, 2016, 2008a), and the need remains for further research on the effectiveness of online music learning (Bowman, 2014; Hebert, 2008b).

A Pioneering Online Doctoral Program The first entirely online doctoral program in music education was launched at Boston University in 2005, and it quickly grew to become the largest program in our field, having admitted more than 350 doctoral students and more than 500 students in its affiliated master’s degree program. This program, at the oldest degree-​granting music school in the United States, mostly uses two technological systems, the WebCT/​Vista platform for construction and management of asynchronous learning environments and the Horizon Wimba program for live, interactive teaching. The Boston University program includes several required courses that feature multicultural content, with classes in African music, blues, and jazz arranging. The program’s students, most of whom are actively working music teachers with bachelor’s degrees and teaching credentials, have instant access to instructional videos, online chatting systems, enormous libraries of sound recordings, and digitized research journal articles, and are required to read and engage in frequent online discussions regarding issues and challenges in their ongoing work as music teachers. Many of the program’s students claim that its courses are very intense and more demanding than the traditional on-​campus programs with which they are familiar.

Blended Learning in Europe While we are excited about the new possibilities for professional development offered by such music technologies, and we acknowledge that research is increasingly demonstrating much that can be effectively learned in online settings, it seems to us (despite our strong personal interest in music technology) that there is

262

S. Alex Ruthmann and David G. Hebert

something special about face-​to-​face instruction that can never be fully replaced. We must also be realistic about the fact that distance learning technologies continue to be problematic at times, even for experts. Therefore, rather than proposing that music teaching should all be done online, we endorse a “blended/​hybrid” approach (Allen & Seaman, 2013) that features some online learning to enhance what is taught in face-​to-​face settings. The Master of Global Music program in Northern Europe—​for which Eva Saether and one of the authors (Hebert) have offered academic leadership—​uses such an approach. In this program, graduate students from different nations share intensive residencies for face-​to-​face teaching and learning that are supplemented by online learning to reinforce what is developed during the residences. This master’s degree program, which is free of charge for most students (even from foreign countries), includes specialized training in multicultural music pedagogy, and toward the end of their studies, students also do residencies with Global Network for Higher Music Education partner institutions in Africa and the Middle East (Hebert & Saether, 2014).

Blended Learning in the United States The aforementioned “blended approach” is also infused into the course design in the music education program at the University of Massachusetts, Lowell, where all music education courses are surrounded by a private, custom social network promoting collaboration and sharing of experiences outside scheduled face-​to-​face class time. This online community of practice (Wenger, 1999) extends to collaborative partner teachers and pupils in local K–​12 schools and is especially valuable in supporting student-​teacher experiences at distance. Rather than moving most courses into an online-​only environment (as our Graduate School of Education has done), the pervasiveness of access to multimedia creation and social collaboration tools are leveraged to engage student interaction and reflection through extending the physical and temporal bounds of the music classroom (Ruthmann, 2007). Materials that might have normally been presented in a lecture format in person are being digitized and shared in the network for students to read and watch on their own time, creating more time in face-​to-​face meetings for interactive, hands-​on experiences not well suited to online environments. In addition, students are empowered to create their own content to be added and shared among our network. Demand across public higher education for online courses and programs in the United States continues to grow. One comprehensive survey (Allen & Seaman, 2013)  reports that by 2012, over 6.7  million U.S.  college students, or 32%, were taking at least one online course. Public institutions, such as Kent State University, the University of Florida, and the University of South Florida, offer an online master’s degree in music education, and the University of Southern Mississippi

Music Learning and New Media

263

also offers a PhD degree in music education primarily through online courses and is moving toward a “blended learning” approach in its on-​campus course offerings. While such developments have come as an unwelcome surprise to some in the profession (see Hebert, 2008a), to others the need for greater flexibility in graduate studies, and even the inevitability of online programs, has long been understood (Fung, 2004).

Online Music Teacher Education and Professional Development Other researchers are also proposing the benefits of a blended, online approach to networking pre-​service and in-​service educators though school, community, and university partnerships. The Music Teachers Oz project documented by Ballantyne et al. (2009) found that participants benefited from engagement with “authentic” teaching cases shared by network members, while helping pre-​service participants gain a better understanding and connection to teaching practices and conditions during their university training. Further benefits described included collaborative knowledge development among pre-​service and in-​service educators separated by large distances. The Music Teachers Oz website, built using the open-​source Moodle platform, integrated discussion forums and video case studies collaboratively developed between university and in-​service educators. This online network was developed to connect students and teachers from across Australia, bringing musical experiences from actual classrooms to pre-​service students, and pre-​service students to diverse classrooms. In 2010, a new online music professional learning network—​the Music Teachers Facebook Group—​was launched bringing together music educators and students in a collaborative learning environment now at http://​www.facebook.com/​groups/​ musicpln/​. With a membership of nearly 20,000 educators from around the world, this network, open to all interested in music education, was founded by Joseph Pisano in part in response to the growing online presence of music educator blogs and Twitter posts from music teachers around the world. The impetus for this network came from a growing group of active educators participating in weekly “Music Ed Chats” organized by Andy Zweibel (then, an undergraduate music education major) on Twitter using the hash tag #musedchat. Though no formal research has been undertaken exploring the nature and use of this site to date, its social features and active user base illustrate how social media technologies, such as blogs, Twitter, Facebook Groups, and wikis, can be used in the support of individualized professional development drawing on the expertise of researchers and educators from across the world. The richness and quality of the interactions on this network have raised the question among its active members of how to receive professional development points and credits through participation on the site. A quick look through the posts reveal a common perception among participants that the depth and

264

S. Alex Ruthmann and David G. Hebert

timeliness of information shared on the Music Teachers Facebook Group website are of significant pedagogical and professional value. In all of the above cases, music learning teaching and the experience of music itself was in part mediated by online, social networking technology. In the case of Boston University, GLOMAS, and Music Teachers’ Oz, the platform for mediating in-​person experience and online experiences was a custom learning or content management system. In the case of the University of Massachusetts, Lowell, courses and Music Teachers Facebook Group, the platform was a free, customizable social network aggregating content from Twitter, blogs, and other websites. As time passes, social networking technologies are increasing in both ease of use and multimedia functionality. When used in support of blended music teaching and learning these tools afford new spaces and opportunities for students to share their musical perspectives and collaborate with others in the experience of diverse musical practices.

Future Directions: Participatory Media and Social Media Musicianship Reflective of an emerging “remix culture” (Lessig, 2008), our students, now more than ever, have access to and are creating original works with video, images, and sounds explicitly designed to be freely rearranged in new and novel ways. When one of the authors (Ruthmann) was a middle school music teacher in the mid-​ 2000s, his students wanted nothing more than to be able to remix and create directly with the musics they found meaningful. For the girls in these classes, their desire was to remix Britney Spears and create digital stories, while the boys tended toward creating soundtracks for short films and original music for video games. As a teacher, it was a challenge to acquire both the tools and the media desired and needed by students. For nearly a decade, some musicians have been releasing multitrack “stems” of their songs while actively encouraging their fans to remix and create new interpretations of their work (e.g., David Bowie, Nine Inch Nails, Radiohead, and Herb Alpert). In addition to these purposefully released multitracks, some teachers are using illegally obtained multitracks found on social sharing websites used by pupils in schools, such as Marvin Gaye’s “I Heard It through the Grapevine” and “What’s Going On,” in an attempt to make their music classes more relevant by using music that students know through new digital technologies used by students at home. These teachers are looking to make in-​ school musical experiences more like their students’ musical experiences outside school by drawing on the music and technologies that are an integral part of youth culture.

Music Learning and New Media

265

This emerging culture of participatory media is gaining traction in schools through the affordances and pervasiveness of new social music tools. As computing becomes ever more portable and embedded, handheld phones, originally used for social communications, are now musical instruments (e.g., Smule iPhone instruments) and platforms for creating music, and are always online, enabling quick access to music and videos from around the world on demand. Through music games and apps such as Guitar Hero, Rock Band, Roli Noise, Groove Pizza, and Figure, students physically and rhythmically participate in and create “felt paths” (Bamberger, 1991) through their favorite contemporary and classic rock tunes, now running on portable music devices. These environments provide a unique context for deep, repeated listenings and provide the opportunity to know and “feel” these pieces from within (Reimer, 2003). In these cases, new portable music technologies such as MakeyMakey and Playtronica are creating new opportunities and spaces for kinesthetic and social engagement with music (Tobias, ­chapter 14). As battery life has lengthened, these portable electronic instruments have assumed a place on our students’ playgrounds (Marsh, 2008), and increasingly function less as simple music playback devices, and more as contemporary descendants of traditional acoustic instruments.

New Hybrid Platforms for Online Music-​Making Noteflight, Flat.io, Soundtrap, PlayWithYourMusic, and Soundation are examples of a new generation of online music-​centered platforms for social music-​making. These new tools enable “music to be present in the conversation about music” (Dillon, 2007) online, and are becoming increasingly sophisticated to the point that the musical features are now central to the experience and interaction and social features are in the supporting role. This is a marked shift in perspective from more traditional text-​and media-​based online collaboration platforms. Instead of the online space as a network for sharing ideas through text, image, and sound, the online platform becomes the medium for creating and collaborating directly through multimedia. As a result of these technologies, new forms of social media musicianship are emerging. An example documented by Ruthmann (2008) began in the unlikely setting of a public restroom. Someone began by scribbling on the wall a melodic line from the second movement of Percy Grainger’s famous work for wind band, Lincolnshire Posy. Another person used a cellphone camera to snap a picture of the scribbled notation, and posted it to Imageshack.com, an online photo sharing site. This photo was then shared on Reddit.com, a popular online discussion forum. A young musician from New York City found the image of the scribbled notation on Reddit and transcribed and arranged it into a new musical piece through Noteflight. com. After creating his composition on Noteflight.com and giving it the title “Toilet Melody,” he then posted a link to his original arrangement of the Grainger tune back

266

S. Alex Ruthmann and David G. Hebert

onto the Reddit.com website for additional comments by readers, which garnered both criticism and praise. This short vignette illustrates the increasingly distributed and collaborative nature of online social music practice. Musical fragments written on a wall and snapped by a cellphone camera are removed from one context and placed online to be recontextualized and manipulated in new ways. In most cases, the contributors to these online musical practices are unaware to how their original contributions are taken, remixed, and redistributed to new audiences. Many people viewing the scrawled notation posted to Reddit.com had never heard Percy Grainger’s work for band. Their first experience of it was the notated remix arrangement shared through Noteflight.com. It is also important to note that Grainger’s work for wind band is not a purely original composition. In 1906, Grainger, working as an ethnomusicologist, went around the countryside of Lincolnshire, England, collecting field recordings of local folk songs using early phonograph technology. These early recordings then served as the inspiration for his 1937 work Lincolnshire Posy, no doubt performed at some point by the person who scrawled the notation on the restroom wall. Today, our students are working similarly to Grainger, but now as guerilla digital ethnomusicologists, scouring the internet for musical clips and samples ripe for remixing, recontextualizing, and sharing online. In this case, the online tools served not only as a platform for communication but also as the medium for creating, sonifying, and sharing the music. A related guerilla digital ethnomusicology example is exemplified by the music videos of Kutiman (http://​www.thru-​you.com) and Norwegian Lasse Gjertsen (http://​www.youtube.com/​user/​lassegg). Kutiman scours YouTube for music videos to be used as source materials for new musical works. Using video editing technologies, he clips out and remixes sections of videos recorded and posted online by others into fascinating new and syncretic performances that challenge traditional notions of musicianship. Lasse Gjertsen does not report to be a trained musician or to be able to “play” any traditional instruments. However, through new video technology, he can record and combine snippets of notes played on the piano, and “hits” on a drum set, and orchestrate them via video editing into a very convincing and musical performance, mediated by time and technology. This new social media musicianship is a completely new paradigm—​one most schools and teachers are unequipped to engage. Advances in technology are making it easier for students to collaborate at distance in ways more richly mediated through real-​time text, sound, and video (Ruthmann & Bizub, 2006) and now through integrated socially mediated online musicking platforms. In response to the growing youth practice with these tools and within these environments, it is vital that music educators begin to immerse themselves in the online musical practices of their students observing both the ways students are musical and the tools they use to facilitate that musicianship.

Music Learning and New Media

267

Examples from Second Life and Beyond One pioneering example of music learning in an online virtual environment is the Virtual Music Academy within the popular Second Life website. The Virtual Music Academy reportedly offers not only “recitals, lectures, and individual lessons” but also “museum displays, interactive exhibits, classrooms with audio/​ video capabilities, a lecture and recital hall, screening rooms, open-​air concert space, and an inworld staff ” (Schwartz, 2009, p.  8). Further, its virtual island has been described as follows: Utwig includes areas (parcels) dedicated to each of the time periods of music history. Each parcel functions as a time capsule for a particular time period. Along with time appropriate music streams, exhibits include both written and visual information and web links that reflect the social and cultural context allowing visitors to glimpse the bigger picture for the music of a particular time period. For example, the Medieval Period is housed in Rosslyn Chapel; the Renaissance Period, Palazzo Strozzi; Baroque Period, J.S. Bach’s birth house; Classical Period, Independence Hall; Romantic Period, Lizzy Borden’s house; and the 20th Century in John Lautner’s Chemosphere. Each building’s content, including images of the art and links to salient political documents, is constantly growing. (Schwartz, 2009, p. 8)

Schwartz (2009) concludes that “Second Life is an amazing tool for reaching out and engaging folks who would otherwise never give classical music a second thought” (p. 14). While the Virtual Music Academy has limited its focus to European classical music, music of an array of genres from diverse cultural backgrounds is also becoming widely available in the virtual world of Second Life. Harvard University music professor Kay Shelemay’s ethnomusicology course on the theme of soundscapes has been offered in the Second Life environment (Condit, 2008, p. 28), and more courses and even entire programs will surely follow. In a recent technology in music education course at the University of Massachusetts, Lowell, pre-​service music educators spent two hours per week in residence at a local high school teaching digital music and class piano courses. Outside class time, pupils were encouraged to make use of a custom social network, YouTube, and Noteflight.com to explore, learn, and remix the diversity of musics enjoyed by the pupils in the classes. The pre-​service music teachers were able to interact and share their musical interests through posting videos and creating custom piano arrangements of popular tunes with the pupils via Noteflight. In this context the YouTube and Noteflight websites became parallel classrooms, where pre-​service students and high school pupils explored and created diverse musics together, inspired by a diversity of student-​shared musics, including Korean popular music, Liszt’s La Campanella, and the Beatles’ “Hey Jude.” In this context, much more time was spent engaging directly with music and with each other outside class time than in class due to the always-​on social network and unique context of participatory media.

268

S. Alex Ruthmann and David G. Hebert

Conclusion Marcelo and Carola Suarez-​Orozco (2009) have observed that “new information, communication, and media technologies are the main tools youth use to connect with one another instantaneously. These tools shape new cognitive and meta-​cognitive styles and social patterns of interaction” (p. 70). These authors also conclude that “schools need to take some responsibility for improving students’ information literacy, and helping them develop into discerning, savvy media consumers” (p.  72). Indeed, technologies are naturally favored by contemporary youth. These technologies also shape their learning styles, and teachers—​including music teachers—​share some responsibility for imparting an awareness of how to appropriately use new technologies, and how to critically evaluate their effectiveness. This may seem like a lot to ask of music teachers on top of all the other requirements typically faced in their demanding jobs. However, the first step in making schools into places where diverse students will want to musically engage, is to meet them where they are, honor their backgrounds and capabilities, and create spaces for their musicianship.

Reflective Questions







1. What kinds of musical learning can be effectively facilitated in online and virtual environments, and what kinds of musical activities are best suited to traditional face-​to-​face instruction? What reliable evidence serves as the basis for your answers to this question? 2. If music is a form of invaluable cultural heritage, and rich traditions are associated with how it is transmitted, to what extent might the introduction of new approaches (specifically, using new technologies) cause harm to these traditions? To what extreme could one’s position on the question of “authenticity” be taken?: Should Gregorian chant only be taught to men living in European monasteries, for instance? 3. Technology receives very little attention in most historical accounts of the field of music education (McCollum & Hebert, 2014), but to what extent is it fair to suggest that music teaching has often been shaped by the emergence of new technologies, from early metronomes and solfège hand charts to radios and phonographs, to the digital sound files and virtual/​ online courses of today? 4. How can music teachers most appropriately respond to students who use new music technologies in highly creative ways that not only challenge traditional aesthetic sensibilities but also push the limits of intellectual property legislation (e.g., reformatting and sharing of sound files,

Music Learning and New Media



269

construction of “mashup” collages and amateur videos synced to popular music tracks, etc.)? 5. How can music educators most judiciously respond to the complex ethical issues associated with commercial product promotion and online surveillance when integrating digital technologies into music learning for children and adolescents?

KEY SOURCES Allen, I. E., & Seaman, J. (2013). Changing course:  Ten years of tracking online education in the United States. Retrieved from http://​www.onlinelearningsurvey.com/​reports/​ changingcourse.pdf. Hebert, D. G. (2016). Technology and arts education policy. Arts Education Policy Review, 117(3), 141–​145 (editorial introduction, “Technology” special issue). Hebert, D. G. (2009a). On virtuality and music education in online environments. Parlando, 48(4). Retrieved from http://​www.parlando.hu/​2009-​4-​web-​Herbert-​Eng.htm. King, A., Himonides, E., & Ruthmann, S. A. (eds.). (2017). The Routledge companion to music, technology and education. New York: Routledge. Ruthmann, S. A., & Mantie, R. (eds.). (2017). The Oxford handbook of technology and music education. New York: Oxford University Press. Ruthmann, A. (2007). Strategies for supporting music learning through online collaborative technologies. In J. Finney & P. Burnard (eds.), Music education with digital technology (pp. 131–​141). London: Continuum.

WEBSITES http://​glomas.net. http://​sociomusicology.blogspot.com. http://​www.musedlab.org. http://​playwithyourmusic.org. http://​www.facebook.com/​groups/​musicpln/​ http://​soundtrap.com http://​noteflight.com

REFERENCES Allen, I. E., & Seaman, J. (2013). Changing course:  Ten years of tracking online education in the United States. Retrieved from http://​www.onlinelearningsurvey.com/​reports/​ changingcourse.pdf.

270

S. Alex Ruthmann and David G. Hebert

Ballantyne, J., Barrett, M., Temmerman, N., Harrison, S., & Meissner, E. (2009). Music Teachers Oz Online: A new approach to school-​university collaboration in teacher education. International Journal of Education & the Arts, 10(6). Retrieved February 5, 2010, from http://​www.ijea.org/​v10n6/​. Bamberger, J. (1991). The mind behind the musical ear: How children develop musical intelligence. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Bernard, R. (2009). Music making, transcendence, flow, and music education. International Journal of Education & the Arts, 10(14). Retrieved January 11, 2010, from http://​www.ijea. org/​v10n14/​. Bond, A. (2002). Learning music online:  An accessible program for isolated students. Kensington Park, SA: Australian National Training Authority. http://​www.ncver.edu.au/​ research/​proj/​nr1013.pdf [accessed September 2, 2010]. Bowman, Judith. (2014). Online learning in music: Foundations, frameworks, and practices. New York: Oxford University Press. Campbell, P. S. (2010). Songs in their heads: Music and its meaning in children’s lives (2nd ed.). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Condit, T. (2008). Summer 2008 projects report, Academic Technology Group. Cambridge, MA: Faculty of Arts and Sciences Information Technology, Harvard University. http://​isites. harvard.edu/​fs/​docs/​icb.topic739981.files/​PITF_​Report_​2008.pdf [accessed September 2, 2010]. Cooke, P. (1995). Interactive learning using HyperCard. In M. Lieth-​Philipp & A. Gutzwiller (eds.), Teaching musics of the world (pp. 227–​233). Affalterbach, Germany:  Philipp Verlag. Dillon, S. (2007). Music, meaning and transformation. Newcastle, UK: Cambridge Scholars Publishing. Feld, S. (1995). From schizophonia to schismogenesis: The discourses and practices of world music and world beat. In G. E. Marcus & F. R. Myers (eds.), Traffic in culture: refiguring art and anthropology. (pp. 96–​126). Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Fung, C. V. (2004). Perception of the need for introducing flexible learning in graduate studies in music education: A case study. College Music Symposium, 44, 107–​120. Hebert, D. G. (2016). Technology and arts education policy. Arts Education Policy Review, 117(3), 141-​145 (editorial introduction, “Technology” special issue). Hebert, D. G. (2009a). On virtuality and music education in online environments. Parlando, 48(4). http://​www.parlando.hu/​2009–​4-​web-​Herbert-​Eng.htm [accessed January 11, 2010]. Hebert, D. G. (2008a). Forms of graduate music education: A response to Kenneth Phillips. Research and Issues in Music Education, 6. Retrieved September 2, 2010, from http://​www. stthomas.edu/​rimeonline/​vol6/​index.htm. Hebert, D. G. (2008b). Reflections on teaching the aesthetics and sociology of music online. International Review of the Aesthetics and Sociology of Music, 39(1), 93–​103. Hebert, D. G. & Saether, E. (2014). Findings and implications from an evaluation of the Glomus Intercultural Music Camp, Ghana 2011, Music Education Research, 16(4), 418–​435. King, A., Himonides, E., & Ruthmann, S. A. (eds.). (2017). The Routledge companion to music, technology and education. New York: Routledge. Lebler, D. (2015). Future directions for assessment in music. In D. Lebler, G. Carey, & S. D. Harrison, (eds.), Assessment in music education:  from policy to practice (pp.1–​7). Switzerland: Springer. Lessig, L. (2008). Remix:  Making art and commerce thrive in the hybrid economy. New York: The Penguin Press.

Music Learning and New Media

271

Mahabir, N., Thomas, J., & Ramasmmoj, R. (2000). A virtual classroom to teach Hindustani music. In The Proceedings of the Information Systems Education Conference 2000, vol. 17 (Philadelphia): sec. 916. Retrieved from http://​proc.isecon.org/​2000/​916/​ISECON.2000. Mahabir.pdf. Manabe, N. (2008). Ring my bell:  Cell phones and the Japanese music market. In E. M. Richards & K. Tanosaki (eds.), Music of Japan today (pp. 257–​267). Newcastle, UK: Cambridge Scholars Publishing. Mathur, R., & Oliver, L. (2007). Developing an international distance education program: A blended learning approach. Online Journal of Distance Learning Administration, 10(4). Marsh, K. (2008). The musical playground: Global tradition and change in children’s songs and games. Oxford: Oxford University Press. McCollum, J. & Hebert, D. G. (2014). Advancing historical ethnomusicology. In J. McCollum & D. G. Hebert (eds.), Theory and method in historical ethnomusicology (pp.361–​383). Lanham, MD: Lexington Books. Reimer, B. (2003). A philosophy of music education (3rd. ed.). Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall. Ruthmann, A. (2008, November). Guerilla musicianship: Harnessing collective musicianship in a (re)emerging read/​write culture. Unpublished paper presented at the Interdisciplinary and Creative Arts Education Summit, Hong Kong Institute of Education. Ruthmann, A. (2007). Strategies for supporting music learning through online collaborative technologies. In J. Finney & P. Burnard (eds.), Music education with digital technology (pp. 131–​141). London: Continuum. Ruthmann, A., & Bizub, S. (2006). The Internet and the nature of collaborative experience:  Cross-​cultural composing among students in Japan and the United States. Paper presented at the International Society for Music Education World Conference, Kuala Lumpur. Ruthmann, S. A., & Mantie, R. (eds.). (2017). The Oxford handbook of technology and music education. New York: Oxford University Press. Saether, E. (2008). When minorities are the majority: Voices from a teacher/​researcher project in a multicultural school in Sweden. Research Studies in Music Education, 30(1), 25–​42. Schroeder, R., & Bailenson, J. (2008). Research uses of multi-​user virtual environments. In N. G. Fielding, R. M. Lee, & G. Blank (eds.), Sage handbook of online research methods (pp. 327–​342). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage. Schwartz, D. T. (2009, April). Second Life and classical music education: Developing iconography that encourages human interaction. Journal of Virtual Worlds Research, 2(1). Retrieved January 11, 2010, from http://​journals.tdl.org/​jvwr/​article/​view/​392/​456/​. Smith, G. D., Moir, Z., Brennan, M., Kirkman, P., & Rambarran, S. (eds.), (2017). Routledge research companion to popular music education. New York: Routledge. Suarez-​ Orozco, M. M., & Suarez-​ Orozco, C. (2009). Globalization, immigration, and schooling. In J. A. Banks (ed.), Routledge international companion to multicultural education (pp. 62–​76). New York: Routledge. Trulsson, Y. H., Burnard, P. & Söderman, J. (2015). Bourdieu and musical learning in a globalised world. In P. Burnard, Y. H. Trulsson, & J. Söderman (eds.), Bourdieu and the sociology of music education (pp.209–​222). Farnham: Ashgate. Tuttle, T. T. (1995). The melodic analysis package. In M. Lieth-​Philipp & A. Gutzwiller (eds.), Teaching musics of the world (pp. 234–​238). Affalterbach, Germany: Philipp Verlag. U.S. Department of Education. (2009). Evaluation of evidence-​based practices in online learning:  A meta-​analysis and review of online learning studies. Washington, DC:  U.S.

272

S. Alex Ruthmann and David G. Hebert

Department of Education, Office of Planning, Evaluation, and Policy Development. Retrieved September 2, 2010, from http://​www.ed.gov/​about/​offices/​list/​opepd/​ppss/​ reports.html. Wang, J., & Humphreys, J. T. (2009). Multicultural and popular music content in an American music teacher education program. International Journal of Music Education, 27(1), 19–​36. Wenger, E. (1999). Communities of practice:  Learning, meaning, and identity. Cambridge, U.K.: Cambridge University Press.

Index

A accessibility, 242–​243 adapted technology, 124–​125 ambiguity, 27, 29, 35 amusia, 134–​135 anthropology, 42 See also culture appreciating performance, 242 art for art’s sake, 207 arts partnerships. See partnerships assessment criteria for, 91 exemplar programs, 76–​89 exemplar tasks, 77–​82, 92 international perspectives and practices on, 74–​94 music technology for, 128–​130 practices, 16, 75–​76 summary and analysis, 89–​92 theoretical background, 75–​76 at-​risk schools, 66–​70 Audacity software, 152–​156 Australia example assessment programs, 79, 80, 85–​86, 86–​87 music education policy and practice, 85 B blended learning general, 257–​259 in Europe, 261–​262 synergies in, 259–​260 in United States, 262–​263 blogging, 264 brain scanning, 137–​138 bricolage tradition, 43 brilliance: music technology for assessing, 128–​130 bulumakalang, 45–​47

C C.A.L.M. project, 66–​70 Cantonese opera case partnership project, 101–​102, 109 CDs (compact discs), 164 celebration: mass media as, 208–​211 ceremonial or ritual music, 207–​208 character education, 244 children: empathic creativity, 30–​35 choral music case partnership, 99–​100 classroom settings, 59–​60 club culture, 5–​6, 6–​7 collaboration, 243–​244 C.A.L.M. project, 66–​70 collaborative creativity, 16 collaborative digital media performance, 236–​253 communal creativity, 65–​66, 71 democratic, 65–​66, 71 family, 14–​15 with generative music systems, 236–​253 technology for, 192–​193 See also partnerships collective participation, 56, 70 colleges and universities C.A.L.M. project, 66–​70 online doctoral programs, 261 collegial pedagogy, 212–​213 commercialism, 206 communal creativity, 15–​16 C.A.L.M. project, 66–​70 classroom settings, 59–​60 conceptual framework, 68 as expression of pedagogical values, 65–​66 key principles, 58–​61 learning and teaching principles, 61–​66 learning culture, 61–​62 musical polyphony as a conversation of multiple voices, 63–​64

274Index communal creativity (cont.) for social transformation, 60–​61 as sociomusical practice, 56–​70 students teaching students, 59–​60 teaching environments, 59–​60 theoretical framework, 57 communication conversation of multiple voices, 63–​64 learning culture of conversation and transgression, 61–​62 See also language communities of practice (COP), 173–​175 community life, 47 compact discs (CDs), 164 componential model, 14 composition case study, 32–​35 empathic creativity in, 30–​35 example projects, 99–​100, 101–​102, 103–​104, 106–​107, 108 computers, 241 See also digital media performance; technology confrontations, 39 continuing education. See lifelong learning convergence culture, 212 conversation learning culture of conversation and transgression, 61–​62 of multiple voices, 63–​64 COP. See communities of practice copying. See imitation counterpoint, 63, 64–​65 creativity assessment of. See assessment collaborative, 16 communal, 15–​16, 65–​66 componential model, 14 culturally embedded practice, 15 cultural production, 5–​6 defined, 75 domains of, 13, 17 empathic, 15, 16, 22–​38 as expression of pedagogical values, 65–​66 fields of, 13, 17 as five-​step process, 13 in group music practices, 22–​38 for individuals, 17 intercultural, 15, 39–​55 international perspectives and practices, 74–​94 of the lone genius, 4–​5 musical, 3–​21

musical empathic, 36 in partnerships, 95–​112 as practice, 46 as practice to make the familiar strange, 59–​60 as sociomusical practice, 56–​73 sociopersonal perspective on, 13–​14 of technosphere, 6–​7 theoretical background, 75–​76 vignettes, 4–​7 creativity policy, 96–​97 critical listening, 224–​225, 226 cue sheets, 227–​228 culture club culture, 5–​6, 6–​7 convergence culture, 212 creativity of cultural production, 5–​6 cultural diversity, 43 cultural relevance, 244–​246 intercultural creativity, 15, 39–​55 “junior” cultural practices, 245–​246 multicultural societies, 50–​51 remix culture, 264 See also diversity curricula case partnership project, 101–​102 for networked learning, 192–​193 relationship between technology, pedagogy, and curriculum content, 186 technology in, 165–​166, 168–​173 D Dance Dance Revolution (DDR), 225 databases, 247–​248 data capture, 247–​248 DDR (Dance Dance Revolution), 225 definitions creativity, 75 empathy, 24–​25 partnerships, 96–​97 delineated meaning, 244 democratic collaboration, 65–​66, 71 digital audio, 126 digital “expats”, 194–​195 digital immigrants, 194–​195 digital instruments, 241, 242–​243 digital media performance audiovisual aspects, 241 case study examples, 248–​250 collaborative digital media performance, 236–​253 cultural relevance, 244–​246

Index data capture, 247–​248 educational advantages, 241–​248 generative music systems, 236–​253 media integration, 246–​247 See also media; technology digital natives, 150–​151, 194–​195 directing, 242 disc jockeys (DJs), 226, 246–​247 discourses, 7 disembodiment, 260 disinterest, 29 disinterested pleasure, 27, 35 dissociation, 39, 41–​43 diversity, 41–​43, 50 cultural, 43 rationales for diversification of music education environments, 255–​256 See also culture DJ Hero, 226 DJs (disc jockeys), 226, 246–​247 DLC (downloadable content), 218 doctoral programs, online, 261 downloadable content (DLC), 218 E education, online, 261–​264 education reform agenda, 144–​145 educators modding, 230–​231 role in video games and virtual worlds, 221–​222 technology and, 143–​161 See also teachers electric guitars, 164 electronic instruments, 240 embodying, 242 emotion maps, 227–​228 empathic creativity, 15, 16 generally, 22–​38 case study, 32–​35 in children’s song composition, 30–​35 history of idea, 23–​24 musical, 36 musical interaction program for, 28–​30 musical interaction that inspires, 26–​27 theoretical framework for, 23–​25 empathy defined, 24–​25 development of, 23–​24 in group music practices, 22–​38 empowerment student, 60–​61

275 technology as, 256–​257 engagement engaged and critical listening, 224–​225, 225–​226 modes of, 242–​243 England example assessment programs, 76, 77, 84–​85 music education policy and practice, 76–​84 enriched live performance, 248–​249 ensemble performance generally, 240–​241 collaborative digital media performance, 236–​253 ensembles, mixed, 249–​250 entrainment, 26–​27, 29, 35 environments online. See virtual and online environments rationales for diversification of, 255–​256 unfamiliar and familiar classroom settings, 59–​60 virtual. See virtual and online environments equilibrium: breaking of, 39, 52–​53 evaluation, 242 exclusion, 44–​50 “expats,” digital, 194–​195 exploitation of unique possibilities, 258 exploration, 242 F familiarity problem, 59 family collaboration, 14–​15 flexibility, 27, 29, 35 floating intentionality, 27 future directions learning approaches, 184–​185 for technology, 179–​198 for video games and virtual worlds, 232–​233 for virtual and online environments, 264–​267 G gaming. See video games and virtual worlds generative music systems, 236–​253 genius, 4–​5 global music, 50 “glocalimbodied”, 260 glocals, 135–​136 The Golden Tiger, 103–​104 group practices empathy and creativity in, 22–​38 peer-​to-​peer learning, 63–​64 in recording studio, 174–​175 Guitar Hero, 225

276Index H harmonic activity, 63 higher education C.A.L.M. project, 66–​70 online doctoral programs, 261 high-​risk schools, 56, 70 hip-​hop music, 6–​7 historical perspectives mass media as celebration in the 1960s, 208–​211 media as intrusion in the 1930s, 205–​208 “musicking” timeline, 120–​124 new media as transformative in the 1990s, 211–​213 on technology, 180–​181 technology timelines, 122, 123 Hong Kong example assessment programs, 81, 82, 88–​89 example partnership project, 101–​102, 108 policy agenda, 100 policy and practice, 87–​88 “horseshoe nails”, 151–​152 humanity, 116 hybrid platforms, 265–​266 I ICT (information and communications technology), 144–​145, 186 identity community life, 49 palace metaphor, 48–​49 virtual, 260 vocal, 132–​134 imitation, 26, 35 immigrants, digital, 194–​195 inclusion, 36, 136 information and communications technology (ICT), 144–​145, 186 innovation, 76 instructors. See teachers instruments computers as, 241 digital instruments, 242–​243 electronic, 240 playing games and instruments, 223 intentionality floating, 27 shared, 24, 27, 30 interactivity, richly synchronous, 257–​258 intercultural creativity, 15 generally, 39–​55 approach in use, 51–​52 key principles and approaches, 52–​53

modes of transmission, 51 palace metaphor, 47–​50 theoretical framework for, 41–​43 intermediate technology, 143, 149–​151 Audacity case study, 152–​156 international perspectives and practices, 74–​94 Internet. See video games and virtual worlds; virtual and online environments intersubjectivity, 27, 30 Ireland case partnership project, 99–​100, 108 policy agenda, 98–​99 J jali families, 40, 45–​47 “junior” cultural practices, 245–​246 K knowledge: relocating, 190–​192 L language new language of music, 189–​190 See also definitions learning in conversation and transgression, 61–​62 future approaches, 184–​185 lifelong, 210, 212 networked, 192–​193 and new media, 255–​257 peer-​to-​peer, 63–​64, 70, 174–​175 in recording studio, 174–​175 with technology, 114–​198 ubiquitous, 212 in video games and virtual worlds, 217–​218, 220–​221, 222–​230 in virtual and online environments, 254–​272 lifelong learning, 210, 212 listening, 25, 31–​32 engaged and critical, 224–​225, 225–​226 literacy, new, 219–​220 local music, 50 M managed learning environments, 150 massively multi-​player online games (MMOG), 219 mass media, 208–​211 meaning ambiguous, 27, 29, 35 delineated, 244

Index media generally, 201–​272 art for art’s sake, 207 as celebration, 208–​211 collaborative digital media performance, 236–​253 collegial pedagogy, 212–​213 ensemble performance, 240–​241 as extensions of man, 209 gaming. See video games and virtual worlds generative music systems, 236–​253 as intrusion, 205–​208 mass media, 208–​211 multimedia performance examples, 248–​250 music as, 204–​205 new media, 211–​213, 255–​257 participatory, 264–​267 phonograph effects, 211–​212 social media musicianship, 264–​267 video games. See video games and virtual worlds “visual music”, 241 See also technology; virtual and online environments mediated musical experiences, 257–​260 MIDI (musical instrument digital interface) technology, 136–​137, 164, 219 minimalist technology, 149–​150 mistakes, 47 mixed ensembles, 249–​250 mixed styles, 50 MMOG (massively multi-​player online games), 219 mobile technologies. See technology; virtual and online environments modding music education, 230–​231 multicultural societies, 50–​51 multimedia performance examples, 248–​250 music as media, 204–​205 new language of, 189–​190 online music and music teacher education, 261–​264 as social behavior, 25 musical creativity generally, 3–​21 diverse forms, 7–​10 diversity, 17, 18 empathic, 36 literature on, 3–​4 macrosystems, 10

277 mesosystems, 10 microsystems, 10 as practical socialization, 58 as practice, 3–​4 as practice to make the familiar strange, 59–​60 research perspectives, 10–​14 systems model of, 11–​12 types of, 8, 9 vignettes, 4–​7 See also creativity musical humanity, 116 musical identity. See identity musical instrument digital interface (MIDI) technology, 136–​137, 164, 219 musical interaction, 26–​27, 28–​30 musical polyphony as conversation of multiple voices, 63–​64 as metaphor, 64–​65, 71 musical tasks, 90–​91 music curriculum technology in, 165–​166, 168–​173 See also curricula music education in postperformance world, 213–​215 rationales for diversification of environments, 255–​256 teachers. See teachers music-​focused video games, 219 musicking, 4, 31, 35–​36 timeline of, 120–​124 music learning blended, 257–​259 and new media, 255–​257 music making creating music in the game environment, 228–​229 creating original video game music, 228 new hybrid platforms for, 265–​266 online, 265–​266 music teachers online education for, 261–​264 technology and, 143–​161 See also teachers music technology. See technology N networked learning, 192–​193 networking. See social networks Network Jamming, 239 new hybrid platforms, 265–​266 new literacies, 219–​220

278Index new media music learning and, 255–​257 in virtual and online environments, 254–​272 Norway case partnership project, 103–​104, 108 policy agenda, 102–​103 O online environment. See virtual and online environments opera, 4–​5 case partnership projects, 101–​102, 103–​104, 106–​107, 108 orchestral composition, 99–​100 the Other, 39, 43–​44 other-​directedness and other-​directed behavior, 25, 28, 36 P palace metaphor, 47–​50 participatory media, 264–​267 partnerships generally, 95–​112 case projects, 97–​107, 108 as creativity policy, 96–​97 defined, 96–​97 summary and conclusions, 107–​109 See also collaboration pedagogy collegial, 212–​213 communal creativity as expression of pedagogical values, 65–​66 relationship between technology, pedagogy, and curriculum content, 186 peer-​to-​peer learning, 63–​64, 70 in recording studio, 174–​175 students teaching students, 59–​60 performance appreciating, 242 collaborative digital media performance, 236–​253 ensemble, 240–​241 expanding notions of, 223–​224 with generative music systems, 236–​253 multimedia, 248–​250 playing games and instruments, 223 video game and virtual world, 222–​223, 223–​224 See also postperformance personal music identification. See identity phonograph effects, 211–​212 PianoBar, 136–​137 policy, 96–​97

polyphony as conversation of multiple voices, 63–​64 as metaphor, 64–​65, 71 pop music as empowerment, 256–​257 musical creativity in, 5–​6 postperformance, 203–​216 postproduction, 172–​173 power relationships popular music and technology as empowerment, 256–​257 student empowerment, 60–​61 practice creativity as, 46 discourses as practices, 7 to make the familiar strange, 59–​60 musical creativity as, 3–​21 musical creativity as practical socialization, 58 recording studio, 169 for social transformation, 60–​61 sociomusical, 56–​73 practice theory, 58 preproduction, 169–​171 primary school assessment programs, 77, 79, 81, 84, 85–​86, 88 production, 171–​172 postproduction, 172–​173 preproduction, 169–​171 stages of, 169, 170 professional development, 143, 145–​149 online, 263–​264 pure music, 50 R recording studios, 166, 167–​168, 209–​210 group work and peer learning, 174–​175 practice, 169 roles and communication, 173 task-​related issues, 174 recording technology, 209 reflexivity, 43–​44 remix culture, 264 research agenda, 231–​232 rhythm action games, 219, 222–​223 ribbon controllers, 130–​132 ritual music. See ceremonial or ritual music S “schizophonia”, 260 secondary school assessment programs, 76, 80, 82, 84–​85, 86–​87, 88–​89 Second Life, 267

Index shared intentionality, 24, 27, 30 singing brain scans of singers, 137–​138 technology for evaluating, 130–​132 skills: relocating, 190–​192 sociability, 42 social behavior communal creativity as practice for social transformation, 60–​61 music as, 25 practical socialization, 58 Usability of Music for the Social Inclusion of Children (UMSIC), 136 social media musicianship, 264–​267 social networks, 192–​193 social perspectives, 13–​14 sociomusical practice C.A.L.M. project, 66–​70 classroom settings, 59–​60 communal creativity as, 56–​73 conceptual framework, 68 key principles, 58–​61 learning and teaching principles, 61–​66 learning culture, 61–​62 to make the familiar strange, 59–​60 students teaching students, 59–​60 teaching environments, 59–​60 theoretical framework, 57 sociopersonal perspective, 13–​14 song composition case study, 32–​35 empathic creativity in, 30–​35 SoundJunction, 135–​136 Sounds of Intent project, 135 specialist and adapted technology, 124–​125 spectograms, 126–​128 spiritual music. See ceremonial or ritual music students empowerment of, 60–​61 music-​making with technology, 162–​178 students teaching students, 59–​60 subject cultures, 185–​189 supertechnology, 150–​151 synthesizers, 163–​164 systems model of music creativities, 11–​12 T teachers online music teacher education, 261–​264, 263–​264 online professional development, 263–​264 professional development for, 145–​149, 263–​264

279 students teaching students, 59–​60 technology and, 143–​161 teaching future approaches, 184–​185 methods, 47 palace metaphor, 49 with technology, 114–​198 teaching environments, 59–​60 See also virtual and online environments technological humanity, 116 technology generally, 114–​198 for assessing brilliance, 128–​130 Audacity case study, 152–​156 CDs (compact discs), 164 communities of practice (COP), 173–​175 in curriculum, 165–​166, 168–​173 digital “expats”, 194–​195 digital immigrants, 194–​195 digital natives, 194–​195 for educational collaborations, 192–​193 for educators, 143–​161 electric guitars, 164 as empowerment, 256–​257 for evaluating singing, 130–​132 extension of knowledge and skills, 190–​192 future directions, 179–​198 gaming. See video games and virtual worlds historical perspectives, 180–​181 for identifying amusia, 134–​135 information and communications technology (ICT), 144–​145, 186 intermediate, 116–​117, 143, 149–​151, 152–​156 key principles, 180 MIDI (musical instrument digital interface), 136–​137, 164, 219 minimalist, 149–​150 misunderstandings of music-​technology education, 119–​142 music learning and teaching through, 114–​198 music-​making with, 162–​178 online. See virtual and online environments postperformance, 203–​216 professional development, 143, 145–​149 recording, 166, 209–​210 for reinstating vocal identity, 132–​134 relationship between technology, pedagogy, and curriculum content, 186 specialist and adapted, 124–​125 spectograms, 126–​128 supertechnology, 150–​151 synthesizers, 163–​164

280Index technology (cont.) teaching with, 184–​185 timelines, 122, 123 tweaking with “horseshoe nails”, 151–​152 “tweak to transform”, 147–​148, 152 “user friendly” technologies, 254 video games. See video games and virtual worlds virtual studio, 150–​151 visualizations, 126–​128 web-​based. See virtual and online environments See also media technosphere, 6–​7 tensions, intercultural, 39–​55 terminology. See definitions “trading zones”, 185–​189 transaction spaces, 188 transcendence, 257, 258–​259 transformation communal creativity as practice for social transformation, 60–​61 new media as transformative in the 1990s, 211–​213 transgression, 61–​62 “tweak to transform”, 147–​148, 152 U unique possibilities: exploitation of, 257 United States blended learning, 262–​263 case partnership project, 106–​107, 108 policy agenda, 105–​106 university collaboration project C.A.L.M., 66–​70 Usability of Music for the Social Inclusion of Children (UMSIC), 136 “user friendly” technologies, 254 V video games and virtual worlds generally, 218–​219 creating music in the game environment, 228–​229 creating original video game music, 228 discussing related issues, 229–​230 downloadable content (DLC), 218 educator’s roles, 221–​222, 230–​231 future directions, 232–​233 in-​game, in-​room and in-​world experiences, 221 learning through, 217–​218, 220–​221, 222–​230

massively multi-​player online games (MMOG), 219 MIDI (musical instrument digital interface) technology, 219 modding music education, 230–​231 multimodal affordances of, 225–​226 music, 227–​228 music-​focused video games, 219 performing, 222–​223, 223–​224 playing games and instruments, 223–​224 research agenda, 231–​232 rhythm action games, 219, 222–​223 vocal parts, 223 See also virtual and online environments video jockeys (VJs), 246–​247 virtual and online environments generally, 254–​272 examples, 267 future directions, 264–​267 mediated musical experiences, 257–​260 new hybrid platforms, 265–​266 online doctoral programs, 261 online music and music teacher education, 261–​264 online music teacher education and professional development, 263–​264 qualities of virtuality, 257–​259 synergies in blended learning, 259–​260 themes and concepts, 257–​260 virtual studios, 150–​151 See also video games and virtual worlds virtuality, 257–​259 virtual musical identities, 260 virtual studios, 150–​151 See also virtual and online environments visualizations, 126–​128 “visual music”, 241 VJs (video jockeys), 246–​247 vocal identity, 132–​134 Vygotsky, Lev, 41–​43 W websites. See virtual and online environments Whisper of Ghosts partnership project, 99–​100, 108 worldviews, 52–​53 Y youth music, 256