How do you Teach Improvisation in Music Therapy?

A question that has perplexed me for many years, and an area I am working on is –  how do you teach improvisation?

And further more –  how do you teach improvisation in music therapy?

Scanning the literature … There are many approaches, often courses follow idiosyncratic teaching styles of individual tutors, for example Kratus (1991) created a course on free improvisation with levels of learning – exploration, process, product, fluid, structural and styles and Ford (1995) who thought about learning outcomes as improved collective decision making, enhanced communication or sustained concentration. In the world of music therapy teaching has focused the building of both technical and relational skills (Nordoff and Robbins, 2007, Wigram 2004), or breaking down into the elements (melody, harmony, timbre), (Alvin, 1966; Bunt and Stige, 2014).

Through my PhD research and a collaborative book I am currently working on, I have begun to think about the usefulness of teaching improvisation through themes.

Themes that arise out of improvisation itself, such as:

Risk

Role

Choice

Identity

It seems to me, taking our starting place as the components of improvisation, it is then possible include all the relevant material you might need to teach, like the role of the elements of music, use of intervals, instruments, music as social and relational or contextual role play of music therapy scenarios.

The next question is what areas of learning and teaching does the music in music therapy cover? I am thinking about it in terms of domains of learning … relational, technical and expressive, cultural and heritage etc.

I am in the middle of writing up my PhD, and hope to expand on some of these ideas in the near future

… so … watch … this … space!

Becky White copyright 9th March 2019.

References

Alvin, J. (1966) Music Therapy. London: Hutchinson & Co Ltd.

Bunt, L. and Stige, B. (2014) Music Therapy: An art beyond words. (2nd ed). London: Routledge.

Ford, C.C. (1995) Free collective improvisation in higher education. British Journal of Music Education, 12 (2), pp. 103-112.

Nordoff, P., and Robbins, C. (2007) Creative music therapy: A Guide to Fostering Clinical Musicianship. (2nd Ed). Gilsum, NH: Barcelona Publishers.

Kratus, J. (1991) Growing with Improvisation. Music Educators Journal. 78 (4), pp. 35-40.

Wigram, T. (2004) Improvisation: Methods and Techniques for Music Therapy Clinicians, Educators and Students. London: Jessica Kingsley Publishers.

 

 

Learning to Improvise Music: A PhD Project

Learning to Improvise The Music of Music Therapy: Freedom and Transformations

This week I am attending the Italian Music Therapy Conference in Trapani, Sicily. The Italian Association of Professional Music Therapists (AIM) is hosting the general assembly of the European Music Therapy Confederation (EMTC). The focus of the conference  is ‘the music of music therapy’, thus my research topic –  investigating how musicians and music therapists learn to improvise is very appropriate.

The phenomenological arts based study, involving 10 music therapy and postgraduate music students, looks into the lived experience of learning to improvise. Through a series of interviews and improvisations with my participants, I have investigated their first, special and current experiences in improvised music.

An important aspect of the project has been actually making music and improvising with my participants, which has given a richness and depth of quality to the data which words alone could not convey. Out of each improvisation I have created hand-drawn visual interpretations or graphic scores. These scores have been sent back to the participants, with the audio recording, for additional comments, creating new data. I intend to show some extracts of these scores in Trapani (see example below):

Participant 8 / Minute 3 / Purple shapes – Participant plays the Double Bass / Green shapes – Researcher plays the melodica.

The score above reads clockwise, the shapes are overlapping to show sounds occupy the same temporal space. It was created through free-drawing and then building a repertoire of shapes to donate different textures and musical events. Participants responses to the scores have been varied, with some adding many more extra comments, and others simply sending the score back with no further comments.

Learning to improvise can be construed as a misnomer, ‘how can you learn to improvise?’ But it can be thought about as a process in music which engenders social, cognitive, emotional and physical engagement (Rose, 2017). It is a complex  multi-layered process.

I will be presenting a poster looking at the theme of freedom and transformations, which has been particularly prevalent in the PhD data analysed so far (using Interpretative Phenomenological Analysis). Participants have described learning to improvise (in music in general and in music therapy) as: eliciting feelings of personal freedom; as a means of relating to music more creatively; transforming their view of music or helping them to increase in social confidence. One student described to me their struggle to ‘re-learn’ improvisation skills on a music therapy course, and how improvisation in music therapy had challenged their pre-conceptions.  A particular quote that stands out, is that of a participant relating to his first experiences in improvising on placement in music therapy, as alike to ‘giving away the freedom’. He had experienced feelings of personal freedom and liberation when he had first began to improvise, then when he played with clients he felt as if he was ‘giving away the freedom’. I am very curious about this phrase, and as I enter into the next stage of my PhD, shall continue to wonder and ponder on its meaning.

It is clear that improvisation in music is not straight forward, but involves many layers, and suggests different ways of being in music. I hope to uncover the understanding of some of these layers as the PhD project progresses.

 

 

Italian Music Therapy Conference

Learning to Improvise The Music of Music Therapy: Freedom and Transformations

This week I am attending the Italian Music Therapy Conference in Trapani, Sicily. The Italian Association of Professional Music Therapists (AIM) is hosting the general assembly of the European Music Therapy Confederation (EMTC). The focus of the conference  is ‘the music of music therapy’, thus my research topic –  investigating how musicians and music therapists learn to improvise is very appropriate.

The phenomenological arts based study, involving 10 music therapy and postgraduate music students, looks into the lived experience of learning to improvise. Through a series of interviews and improvisations with my participants, I have investigated their first, special and current experiences in improvised music.

An important aspect of the project has been actually making music and improvising with my participants, which has given a richness and depth of quality to the data which words alone could not convey. Out of each improvisation I have created hand-drawn visual interpretations or graphic scores. These scores have been sent back to the participants, with the audio recording, for additional comments, creating new data. I intend to show some extracts of these scores in Trapani (see example below):

Participant 8 / Minute 3 / Purple shapes – Participant plays the Double Bass / Green shapes – Researcher plays the melodica.

The score above reads clockwise, the shapes are overlapping to show sounds occupy the same temporal space. It was created through free-drawing and then building a repertoire of shapes to donate different textures and musical events. Participants responses to the scores have been varied, with some adding many more extra comments, and others simply sending the score back with no further comments.

Learning to improvise can be construed as a misnomer, ‘how can you learn to improvise?’ But it can be thought about as a process in music which engenders social, cognitive, emotional and physical engagement (Rose, 2017). It is a complex  multi-layered process.

I will be presenting a poster looking at the theme of freedom and transformations, which has been particularly prevalent in the PhD data analysed so far (using Interpretative Phenomenological Analysis). Participants have described learning to improvise (in music in general and in music therapy) as: eliciting feelings of personal freedom; as a means of relating to music more creatively; transforming their view of music or helping them to increase in social confidence. One student described to me their struggle to ‘re-learn’ improvisation skills on a music therapy course, and how improvisation in music therapy had challenged their pre-conceptions.  A particular quote that stands out, is that of a participant relating to his first experiences in improvising on placement in music therapy, as alike to ‘giving away the freedom’. He had experienced feelings of personal freedom and liberation when he had first began to improvise, then when he played with clients he felt as if he was ‘giving away the freedom’. I am very curious about this phrase, and as I enter into the next stage of my PhD, shall continue to wonder and ponder on its meaning.

It is clear that improvisation in music is not straight forward, but involves many layers, and suggests different ways of being in music. I hope to uncover the understanding of some of these layers as the PhD project progresses.

 

 

The Use of the Treble Recorder in Music Therapy

This week I am excited to present guest blogger Elizabeth Coombes on the use of the treble recorder in music therapy.

Elizabeth Coombes is the Course Leader of the MA Music Therapy at the University of South Wales.  She qualified as a music therapist in 2000, after working for some years as a community musician.  She has worked with a wide range of client groups, and still manages to keep up clinical work with young people with Learning Disabilities, End of Life Care and Asylumseeking families.  She is also on the Advisory Panel of Musica s Therapy International, and works on projects supporting their work in Palestine and the UK. Elizabeth writes:

‘Oh what great and heavenly contemplation is in this trifling thing…’ (Fludd, 1617)

‘I’ve been recommending my students read Becky’s blog; I’m certainly finding food for thought in the series of posts written about the instruments we use in our work.

Nicky Haire wrote recently about bringing one’s musical history into a session, including an embodied knowing of our instrument. This has spurred me on to write about my relationship with the recorder, the first instrument I learned to play when I was around 8 years old. I remember the sheer thrill of being inducted into the mysteries of learning to read music; all those little symbols and signs translated miraculously into sound!   And it was such a great feeling showing I could finger B, A and G, holding the descant recorder aloft with 30 other children, vying for teacher to see us.

My parents bought me a wooden descant recorder and my own copies of books 1 and 2 of a ‘How to Play the Recorder’ book. I spent hours in my bedroom, working my way through these.   Then in the final year of Primary School I was given a treble recorder by the music teacher, and this brought fresh challenges. It wasn’t until many years later, while working on a music therapy project in Palestine that I was to realise the potential of this instrument in music therapy.

In the Tudor era, the recorder was beloved of kings and common folk alike, with Henry VIII supposedly having 76 recorders of varying types in his collection. Every home had a least one recorder enthusiast, and the sound of these instruments in their many forms was a popular way of providing home entertainment. Much recorder music was marked ‘ad tabulam’, meaning it could be played ‘at the table’ accompanying mealtimes with its dulcet tones. By the late 17^th century, though, it had reached its heyday, and subsequently was sidelined by the more brilliant and flamboyant-sounding flute.

For me, part of the charm of the recorder, and particularly the treble, is its inherent simplicity. A wooden pipe with fingerholes, and with many recorders having no keys to manipulate, it is deceptively easy to play. It can have a tone that is mellow, evoking the countryside, or bright and birdlike with a silvery ethereal sound. When used in Renaissance theatre music it often heralded the appearance of a magical being, or something out of the ordinary happening. In my view, then, the treble recorder can add something very special to the musical experience that can be offered in music therapy.

In 2011 I travelled to Palestine to work on a skillsharing project with teachers and social workers. I was taken to a small special needs school where some 20 children were ushered in to a room in which I had been ensconced. I was told it was their ‘rest time’, and that usually music from Youtube was played while the children lay on cushions. Could I play something for them? I had no idea of how I could play culturally authentic music on the treble recorder, but pushed these concerns to one side and focussed on making music in the moment for them. I allowed myself to feel the atmosphere in the room and see the children lying there on the cushions at my feet, some peeking at me, some more obediently closing their eyes in response to the teachers’ commands. Slowly and with growing confidence I explored the sounds of the recorder. I used some of the lower notes to provide a more containing space. Higher brighter sounds were added to the simple, clear melody. One child moved up against my leg and pressed himself against me, looking up at me with big eyes, drinking in the sound. It seemed as though there was a synchronisation of breath and feeling in the room for the few minutes the music lasted.

Ever since that day, I have never been without my treble recorder in a music therapy session. It isn’t always appropriate to use it, but it is ever present. It’s an instrument on which I know I can be congruent and authentic, as Luke Annesley discussed in his post in this series, and that is something that is vital to a music therapists therapeutic skillset’.

 

 

 

‘Finding a voice’: The saxophone in music therapy.

 

This month I am very excited to introduce Luke Annesley as a guest, to the series on the use of instruments in music therapy. Luke is a jazz saxophone player and music therapist. He works for Oxleas Music Therapy Service (with children and young people). He has a quartet with trumpet player Jim Howard called ‘Moonscape’ (you can find some of their music at https://soundcloud.com/user-931488122 ) and he plays with The John Wilson Orchestra. He also produces and presents the BAMT podcast ‘Music Therapy Conversations’. and frequently lectures at GSMD. Luke also has a blog site found at https://www.jazztoad.blogspot.co.uk. Luke writes:

In jazz, the saxophone puts you out front, ‘expressing yourself’, carrying the melody, getting all the glory, putting across your individuality, your musical personality. For this you have to develop a ‘personal sound’. A ‘good tone’ is not enough. Being a jazz saxophone player is a journey of self-discovery, in which your relationship to the tradition must be addressed, followed by the integration of stylistic influences, leading to a mythical moment when you ‘find your voice’. Paradoxically, the great saxophone players in jazz, Pres, Hawk, Bird, Trane, Rollins, Getz, Wayne Shorter, were/are great musical personalities, who seem to be expressing something beyond the instrument, and beyond themselves. There’s a weight of expectation on the saxophone that perhaps is not carried, in the same way, on rhythm section instruments, but then I would say that. On the other hand, you also have to play for the band, which sometimes means playing 2^nd alto.

Recently I went to hear the great alto player Geoff Simkins play at The Vortex in Dalston. He plays with unstinting inventiveness, all the time, while connecting to the tradition, playing melodically, lyrically, recalling at times Lee Konitz or Paul Desmond, or Ornette Coleman, but always being himself. He was playing with a group of younger musicians (Tom Ollendorff on guitar, Connor Chapman on bass, James Maddren on drums), all at the top of their game and fully ‘up-to-date’ in their approach. There was no discernable musical generation gap. But there’s not the remotest hint of Geoff striving to be hip, or being a ‘daring innovator’. There’s no ‘image’ or agenda. He’s just playing, with total honesty and commitment, and playing really really well. I realised that it’s not really about striving to ‘find your voice’. Who you are will come through, probably, but, in any case, who cares? As a listener, I just want to hear the music clearly.

In music therapy, for me, using the saxophone always has a question mark attached. Very often there’s an internal dialogue along the lines of ‘Obviously the saxophone wouldn’t be appropriate in this context. Or would it?’ The starting point is not to play, because it might overwhelm the client, or I might tip towards satisfying my own musical needs, or it’ll just be too loud. But if I lose my connection to the saxophone in music therapy sessions then I do, in a sense, lose my connection to my musical self. It’s my main conduit, if I’m really expressing something, and what’s the point in playing, either performatively or ‘clinically’, if you’re not going to express something?

And I’ve found it useful in surprising situations. Working in groups with under 5s, the saxophone can raise the bar. It might be a sound the children have never heard before. (‘Sleeping bunnies’ works well in the middle register, by the way, maybe written G or F.) Working with older children or young people, I often find the saxophone useful for improvising with drums. We can get into a free jazz/improvised music space, which can become an exciting musical dialogue. Or the saxophone can provide a clearer alternative to using my singing voice, which has a limited range. In an improvising group, it can be useful if I need to cut through the chaos, perhaps provide a melodic thread to suggest musical connections. I use it sparingly, but I couldn’t do without it. It’s the instrument on which I can be the most congruent, which I suppose is what ‘finding your voice’ might be about.

 

 

 

Is the Trombone Useful for Music Therapy?

 

The trombone is a uniquely flexible and useful instrument for music therapy.

My very first encounter with music therapy, largely involved the trombone. I was on a music therapy under-graduate placement working at a large UK hospital institution. In a group for people with learning disabilities, I vividly remember opening the trombone case and immediately attracting the focused attention of older women. She had a background in the salvation army and made a bee line for the instrument. She wanted to touch it, for me to play it. The introduction of this instrument had a powerful effect on her, week after week she would sit close to me, and want to put her head in the bell as I played. For this women, the instrument was associated with her life history, with something positive, although she was unable to articulate and tell us what this was. It was expressed in her actions and how she related to both me and the instrument. I was nineteen at the time, and for a teenager it was a very overwhelming and profound experience.

Over the years I have used the trombone in different guises. It is an impact instrument, both visually and sonically. It can be used to gain attention or create an exciting event within a session. The slow opening of the case and putting together of the piping, can be done with anticipation. As any trombonist can witness, it is an extremely versatile and flexible instrument. The trombone is not restricted to the western tonal system, if a child is vocalising ‘off key’ you can easily join them in micro-tones, and the vocal nature of the timbre makes it excellent for matching or mirroring voices. However, it can easily dominate a session situation, because it is a large presence instrument. It could overpower others music, and needs to be used with the utmost sensitivity and care.

I often use low, soft breathy notes to create a holding effect under a group’s music, sometimes it is possible to obtain an almost imperceptible sound which can be felt and just heard. Breathing or speaking into the instrument amplifies sounds. In contrast volume and timbre of the trombone can cut through chaotic group sounds. I have experienced children holding onto the slide as it has been played, putting their head in the bell, holding onto the tuning bolt.

The children that remain in my mind who have responded to the trombone, have often been children who are very-very withdrawn, have disabilities which mean they are extremely isolated or find it difficult to relate. It is with these children that the instrument has come into its own. I have used it to create connection, to create interaction and interest, which has been difficult to make previously.  It is these sorts of experiences, working especially with these children that has convinced me that the trombone is a gem of a instrument (to be used with care and consideration) in music therapy.

 

 

 

 

Is the Bass Guitar useful for Music Therapy?

Redwood Acoustic Bass

I first thought about learning to play the bass guitar in the mid-nineties. A friend played a Warwick fretless, and the sound entranced and enthralled me. It had a similar quality to the trombone (which I already played) with the ease of timbre, flexibility and freedom of tonality. In 2002 I bought a Dean Fretless (a heavy metal instrument) and Calsbro 50 Watt amp. The dean had a beautiful, deep lush sound and I spent evening after evening investigating its mellow tones, I was hooked.

The bass guitar soon became a staple part of my practice as a music therapist with children with special needs. It is a deceptively simple instrument, but like all things which look simple, it has a complex underlayer. You can do a lot with a little on the bass. Just sonically holding a group’s music, can involve playing a few long notes on the E string, underpinning whatever sounds. But in addition you can take the bass out of its traditional box and throw away the rule book. The bass has hidden talents which are untapped.

As music therapists we have an improvisatory approach to instruments. The bass is no exception, it can be used in a melodic role, playing soaring melodies or short riffs that provide musical glue between people. It can leave harmonies wide open,  playing two notes of a chord in a large register that spans opportunities for sounds between the notes. It can be a percussive instrument, twanging the strings, hitting the body. The timbre can be changed simply by placing your hand on different parts of the strings, the sound widens (becoming potentially double bass like) if you play on the neck, or narrows if you play by the bridge. You can hit, pluck, scratch your fingers over the strings, like a world within a bass world.

The instrument you choose might depend on the needs of the client you are working with. Use a large acoustic bass if you want to be independently mobile, have a child sit on it whilst you play, or run their hands over the strings. Or use an electric if you want the sounds to be more resounding, louder and enfolding.

All of this makes it a fascinating instrument to utilize as a music therapist. The sonic possibilities attend to the acute flexibility required. It has been an under-used instrument in music therapy, but one which has great possibilities and potential.

PhD as Improvised Mountain Walking

 (Photo  – Reaching the top of the mountain Meeknoken on Averoy, West-Coast of Norway).

Taking the high road, taking the low road, the research map is not set but improvised, keep writing, wondering and climbing.

I am nearly half way through this PhD journey, it still excites me and requires an inordinate amount of determination to keep going. Having walked many mountains in Wales and Norway during my twenties, I often think of research like walking. The top of the mountain constantly looks closer than it is, there is always a point when you need to push yourself, it’s important to have provisions and to drink from cool mountain streams.

Having now completed seven interviews, transcriptions, graphic scores and analysis, the participant’s voices resound in my head, like musical leitmotifs. I can conjour up the sound of their voices in a moment. Their experiences fill my mind and I keep wondering where exactly this research is taking us. I feel I am finally starting to understand what the research journey is about; listening, wondering, going backwards and forwards, round in circles, letting the map change and being prepared for your knowledge and life view to expand.

I am sure in the future I will look back and see just how much this research journey is changing me personally. Curiously I find my creativity expanding, a new flexibility in my bass-playing fingers, and the art work more fluid and loose. As an accompaniment to this journey new songs have been written and art work bubbles away underneath. I hope to reach the top of the PhD ‘Meekknoken’ in a couple of years, but know rain, brambles, swarms of insects and unmarked paths are all the hazzards along the way!

 

The Reflexive Researcher

An aspect of research I have grappled with is developing a ‘reflexive’ stance. As an experienced arts therapist I am familiar with the practice of the ‘reflective practitioner’, using self awareness to understand the experience of others. But according to Etherington (2004) reflexivity is about a deeper process, moving into our inner core of responses, and high-lights the hidden places of our thoughts and feelings when working with others in research.

In phenomenological research, whilst working on data,  we are asked to ‘bracket’ off thoughts and feelings, putting them to one side (Moustakas, 1994). An important question is whether it is possible to successfully ‘bracket’ personal responses and maintain these as separate. Through doing interviews I realise that my experiences are interwoven with the PhD project. It is inevitable that personal responses will become part of the research, for me it is important, if not ethical, to acknowledge this.

My methodology is a combination of reflexive thinking with ‘Interpretative Phenomenological Analysis’ (Smith, Flowers and Larkin, 2009). In a heuristic circle the emphasis is on ‘interpretation’, the researcher tries to understand the inner world of the participants, how they are experiencing their lived world. A useful comparison for musicians is it could be like playing Beethoven. Beethoven provides the text and the performer creates the interpretation, trying to understand the inner world of Beethoven, the music becomes a co-creation between Beethoven and the performer.

I have taken detailed reflexive notes on personal responses to the interviews, a skilled practice developed as a music therapist. Before beginning the analysis the reflexive notes are present, but put to one side on the desk, as the analysis process starts. My understanding is that the reflexive notes and analysis eventually become merged in an interpretation of the participant’s lived world. There is a possible ‘interaction’ between my material and the participant’s which could be revealed in the writing. How much I reveal remains to be seen, but the aliveness and spark of working with participants to create something new, speaks to the creative musician in me, who is constantly seeking connection with others through the joint making of sounds, only this time it is words and sounds in a research frame.

References:

Etherington, K. (2004) Becoming a Reflexive Researcher: Using Our Selves in Research. London: Jessica Kingsley Publisher.

Moustakas, C. (1994) Phenomenological Research Methods. London: Sage Publications.

Smith, J.A., Flowers, P., and Larkin, M. (2009) Interpretative Phenomenological Analysis: Theory, Method and Research. Los Angeles: Sage Publications.

An Improvisatory Approach to Learning Instruments

How do we learn to play musical instruments? For those of us who have been through exam systems we are provided with a stepped set route of pieces, scales and graded music. But for the individual who wishes to explore creating their own music this may not necessarily be the only or best way. For the improvising musician the instrument is a means to discover sounds, both their own voice and that of the object. It is double sided, a dialogue between instrument and musician. I own a cheap acoustic bass guitar, to some it might be inadequate, have too many flaws, feedback, rattles and buzz. But to me, I have taken time to discover its peculiarities, its unique sounds. I play with and around those noises and make them my own. Some of the best music lessons I’ve had over the years, have been those which have allowed me to find my individual path on an instrument, my own unique way of playing, my own fingering, my own touch, my own breath.

‘Searching for an individual sound’ is the job of the improvising musician (Frisk, 2014). This involves trying to get away from existing schemas and ways of playing. Discovering new means to produce a sound or turning to a new instrument. The saxophonist Ornette Coleman picked up the trumpet and violin in order to extend his musical resources, deliberately playing instruments he had no or little skill on to explore increasing amounts of freedom. Sometimes playing an instrument that you are unfamiliar with forces you to be more explorative, to move away from the usual ways of playing and to re-learn.

I recently attended the abstract expressionism exhibition at the Royal Academy in London. Included were photos of Jackson Pollock  dripping paint onto canvas. The photos speak of the artist finding his visual voice with materials, they are dynamic, kenetic and demonstrate the embodied nature of an artist manipulating objects.

Figure 1 Jackson Pollock painting No. 32, 1050, photographed by Rudolph Burckhardt (Anfam, 2015)

The same process occurs for the musician, trying to tease noises out of an object and through this process of learning the musician becomes embodied with the instrument.

LaBelle writes that in music improvisation the ‘instrument functions as a partner in the unfolding of musical expression, where an individual and object are integrated, becoming a single body driven by choreography of movement and energy, precision and improvisation, skill and its reciprocal gestures’.

Learning to play an instrument as an improviser is so much more than set pieces, regular techniques and sounds, it is a journey of discovery of the self and the peculiar sound world of the chosen object.

References:

Anfam, D. (2015) Abstract Expressionism. 2nd ed. London: Thames and Hudson world of art.

Frisk, H. (2014) Improvisation and The Self: To Listen To The Other. In Schroeder, F., and O’ hAodha, M. (2014) SoundWeaving: Writings on Improvisation.Cambridge: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, pp. 153-169.

LaBelle, B. (2005) Museum of Instruments. Exhibited at the Museum of Contemporary Art, Roskilde Denmark. September 30-December 18, 2005. Available at http://soundartarchive.net/WORKS-details.php?recordiD=1106. (Accessed November 10 2013)