Fun music practice: a contradiction in terms?

There’s been a post-concert (I’ll come back to that later) lull in my viola playing, hence no blogging. In the meantime, I’ve been grappling with getting my oldest child to do her music practice. In the early weeks, she was delighted by the newness of it all and practice was still a novelty. Now, inevitably, I’m trying to strike the illusive balance between pushing her enough that she improves (and, in turn, gets more pleasure from playing) and not pushing her so hard that she gets bored and decide it’s all a bit too much like hard work and that she’d actually rather watch Pingu with her little sister.

Her teacher gave me a tip along the lines of: ‘as far as possible, make her feel practice is her choice  – give her ownership of it, offer her options etc…’. He told me how one set of parents had crafted a mini chest of drawers made from matchboxes, filled it with little notes detailing musical activities and left the kids to choose a draw. Worked a treat apparently. So over the holidays I channelled my inner Blue Peter presenter, and my daughter and I created this little beauty:

Enchanting I’m sure you’ll agree, but not complete without these:

Three Blind Mice, the Grand Old Duke of York, Pop Goes the Weasel, One of the Twinkle variations – I’ll leave you to work it out. We keep it really short, 5-10 mins, which is about as much as her concentration span and my patience can take. Seems to be working for now, watch this space.

Mini musicians


Little and large

This week is a big week for my daughter for several reasons, one of which is that she will play her first notes on the viola. She’s been attending Suzuki classes since the beginning of January and each week brings one private lesson (shared with another little girl), one group viola lesson, and one musicianship group. Quite a lot of lessons, so why, you might be wondering, has she not played a note yet? Half-way through the last lesson it all became blissfully clear.

She and her lesson partner are now handling their violas and bows comfortably, landing the correct part of the bow on the string, and then taking it off again. They’ve been told if their positioning is perfect next week they’ll be able to start playing. The two of them stood side-by-side, violas in position, teeny tiny bows resting on strings, quivering with barely contained excitement and exchanging conspiratorial glances. My daughter moved her bow a cm on her A-string and swung around wide-eyed to see my reaction.  And suddenly, I could see all the benefits of the protracted process. It’s obviously important that they get the basics right from the start – and in the meantime, they’re also learning rhythms, getting to know the parts of the instrument and watching others play – but it has the desirable side-effect of building their anticipation to dizzying heights.

Watching two four-year-olds wriggle and giggle in their little chairs made me realise I could learn a lot from their attitude to music. The novelty of just making a sound with the instrument is still fresh and exciting to them, and it’s very sweet to watch.

Running and rehearsals, stews and scales (plus some musical advice from Charles Hazlewood)

I often find myself drawing parallels between playing the viola and other things I like doing: running and orchestra rehearsals (you always feel significantly better afterwards even if you start out with very little enthusiasm); cooking and practice (sometimes fun, creative and rewarding, sometimes mind-numbingly pedestrian and functional).

Today’s parallel is with blogging: I’m about as good at that as I am at playing the viola, by which I mean that I’m only able to focus on one very small area at a time and I haven’t even really nailed that area. So, I can just about play the notes these days but thinking about posture, dynamics, vibrato, watching the conductor, turning the pages etc at the same time makes my head spin. And while I manage to squeeze in a blog post each week, two if I’m being ambitious – plankton-scale fry in the blogosphere – I struggle to simultaneously exchange witty soundbites with other musicians and bloggers via twitter, get people to ‘like me’ on facebook and keep abreast of all the other blogs I follow (they have a vortex-like power over me, once I start browsing I’m there for hours).

Most importantly though, I often miss out on really interesting content elsewhere online. Yesterday was a classic(al) example, I found out, too late, that Mumsnet had hosted a live webchat with award-winning conductor Charles Hazlewood about children and music. I’ve since seen the transcript and it’s definitely worth a read when you have a few minutes but in the meantime, I’ve posted a few of the points he made that particularly resonated with me.

Charles Hazlewood

The role of group playing:
“The issue of practice is… difficult because you want music making to be a joyous thing for your kids. BUT, you also know that if they put some graft in, they’ll get even more pleasure from it… really the best thing is to create opportunities for your kid to make music with other people. That will raise their game, remind them what an absolutely amazing thing music is, and cause them to learn stuff from the others…”

What makes a musician:
“Excellent musicianship comes about for a multitude of reasons. Some people just have the right genetic mix, and find music naturally easy. Others achieve brilliance through sheer hard graft, and many others are probably somewhere in between!

It’s very important though not to treat music like alchemy, or a kind of deep magic which only anointed people can access. We ALL have music in us, it’s just that most of us are unconfident about it.

The only important thing is to have extreme hunger for music. If you have that ‘burn’, you’ll become a great musician come what may.”

Classical music for a wider audience:
“I think more people would love orchestral music if it felt more open to them. Sitting in an arid concert hall staring at a full page in the programme which tells you all the things you’re not allowed to do, like cough, eat sweets, talk (and by extension, DON’T EVEN THING ABOUT BRINGING SMALL CHILDREN etc etc), surrounded by mildly smug people who ‘know’ how to be, this is their world, not yours. I hate all that. Music is for everyone… which is why I have throughout my career tried to create different kind of models…so the gig at the Festival Hall this Saturday is a great big hootenanny: a bloody amazing orchestra, some amazing young performers from Southwark, lots of chat, demonstrations, getting under the surface of what makes a great piece of music great.”

I’ll be taking my brood along to the Festival Hall in a couple of days time and am also tempted by the Orchestra in a Field event that he’s running this summer. The website promises an extraordinary line-up from Mussorgsky and Bizet to Rap Slam and a guitar orchestra led by Portishead’s Adrian Utley.

 

Why I need a Tiger Mum

I am determined that, for the first time in my life, next week, I will go to an orchestra rehearsal having prepared properly. But, when I say ‘determined’, while the spirit is willing, the flesh is pretty unreliable.

I’ve touched on this a lot but I can’t seem to learn the lesson myself so I’m going to risk monotony and repeat: you get out what you put in. Not rocket science I grant you, but the mind has ways of playing tricks…

To pluck an example out of thin air: you sit perched on the threshold of a brand new year, the festivities have more or less destroyed any semblance of a routine that you had put in place, you are struggling to get back on top of work, your children’s school routine, housework, thank you letters, family/friend commitments etc but, nonetheless, in the spirit of New Year Resolutions you commit to practising each evening. The first evening goes well, better than expected even, you find yourself clocking up two hours of practice. But, come the second night, you start up again and realise that there doesn’t seem to have been much of an improvement despite “all that effort” that you put in the night before. You tell yourself, “well, perhaps I’m just not cut out for this, if I had any real talent I’d sound a lot better than this by now, and also there’s something on the telly that I’d really like to watch and I could murder a nice glass of wine or several”. And thus, another hobby slowly bites the dust.

I’m sure I’m not the only person to have been a little in awe of the mums on Meet Britain’s Chinese Tiger Mums, which aired tonight on BBC2. Quite mad in parts, yes, and I’m not about to sign my almost 2-year-old up to Kumon maths classes but I did agree wholeheartedly with the message that sustained effort reaps rewards. In fact, I found myself wondering if one of those Tiger Mums would take me in hand and ensure that I spent all my leisure time practising scales and partaking in other improving activities. I just don’t have the self-discipline to do it myself. But, the truth is there is no short cut, if you want to get better at something, you have to put the time in. As my husband helpfully said to me the other day: “if it was easy, I’d be doing it”.

‘SING, SING, SING…’ and other ways to introduce children to music

Gerry Mannion knows a thing or two about how to get very young children singing. Almost 20 years ago, she set up Tick Tock, a music group for under-5s in Islington, London. It’s run by professionally trained actors and singers and has been a rip-roaring success – there are now branches all over London and beyond. There’s a big element of performance to each session: the team of three perform a new routine every week and it generally involves several instruments, half a dozen costume changes and an eclectic repertoire of songs from ‘Old King Cole’ and ‘Wind the bobbin up’ to ‘Feed the birds’ and ‘All the nice girls love a sailor’. We’ve been going along for three years and in that time I’ve seen cartwheels, robotic dancing, and some surprisingly convincing animal impressions – the energy of the team is something to behold.

I asked Gerry some questions about children and music. And this is what she said:

What can music, song and rhyme do for very young children?
Listening to music can transport you to another place immediately. In the early years, singing and playing music help to develop your child’s listening skills. The repetition of songs and nursery rhymes increases their vocabulary but also helps them to think imaginatively and sensitively, while different sounds and rhythms encourage musicality and song identification. And of course, it’s so much fun!

What do they get from attending music groups?
A sense of belonging and making music together; enjoying and engaging in role play and gaining confidence with encouragement from the group; learning awareness of others, how to participate as part of a group and understand the role they can play as individuals.

And if they seem reluctant to join in?
Remain positive and respect their decision on what they want to be involved with. If they sit and listen and watch, then they are absorbing it and will probably talk about it or certainly return to it during the week. We will always gently encourage the quieter members to engage. If your child seems unresponsive don’t worry, sometimes songs and rhymes are repeated, sung and enjoyed months later.

What can you do at home to encourage them to develop an interest in music?
Play lots of music, anything you like from pop to classical, and talk about the instruments and how the music makes them feel. Make your own instruments using saucepan lids and wooden spoons and rice and beans in jars. Have a music box to keep instruments in. Encourage them to sing and play percussion and tap out rhythms. And SING, SING, SING to your child. Make up your own songs about getting dressed, having breakfast, walking down the street, anything!

What do you like most about what you do?
The children: watching them week by week grow in confidence and musicality, seeing their imaginations grow and developing as little people. Over the years we’ve have had incredible feedback on how the sessions have inspired and initiated a love of music and drama, which has led to enjoyment and success in playing of an instrument and in some cases some fulfilling careers in the arts.

 

 

The Suzuki Method – what’s it all about?

I’ve always liked the sound of the Suzuki method. Until recently I had only a very vague notion of what it actually entailed but had heard about the emphasis on group playing, which sounded fun and sociable. For the uninitiated, Suzuki is often described as ‘the mother tongue’ method – children start very young (from 3.5 upwards) and the emphasis is on immersion, repetition, listening and support in the home. This page explains it very clearly, and here, is the wiki link. Generally speaking, opinion seems to be divided: I know several professional musicians who learnt this way themselves and are complete devotees, and others who don’t see the value in children beginning formal instruction at such a young age.

Shinichi Suzuki

Anyway, my oldest child is almost four and so, if it’s the right thing for her, now is the time to start. The process begins with observing some classes and we went along to our first one earlier this week: it was impressive and, initially, a little daunting. We walked in (late) and found three impeccably behaved 4-year-olds sitting on their respective mats, listening attentively to the teacher and playing musical games (stand up when you hear xx rhythm, sit down when it stops again). Behind each little musician was a mother on a chair scribbling notes. Later, the children took turns to trot up to the front and practise their solo (bowing before and after). When I say solo, they are at the very, very early stages so it’s basic one-note stuff but the structure and organisation were quite formidable considering the age of the children.

I didn’t think we’d last 5 minutes before one or other of my children started kicking off but they seemed pretty gripped by what was going on and even 21-month-old who’d come along for the ride, sat quietly on a chair for the duration of the lesson (it may actually be the longest she’s sat still in her whole life during waking hours). There was a 10-minute break before the second half of the class, which was all about musicianship and looked a lot more like the other kinds of music groups we’ve been to but a tad more structured: sitting in a circle, singing your name, learning to shake in time etc The difference, for me, was that my normally shy daughter joined in like she’d been doing it her whole life.

The things I liked about it:
(a) The children seemed to be having a really good time, not one of them complained, asked when the session was finishing or looked fed-up
(b) Despite being highly structured, the atmosphere of the classes was very gentle. The teachers were enthusiastic, funny, unpatronising and incredibly good at keeping control of the very young children they teach without being overbearing
(c)  There’s a big emphasis on attention to detail: correct positioning of instrument, bow hold etc is constantly being reinforced so that it becomes second nature
(d) ‘performing’ in front of other people is a very regular (and therefore presumably unscary) occurrence, which must be beneficial later in life in any context
(e) It was a warm environment: lots of toys in the main waiting area, younger siblings tottering about, picnics being had.

The drawbacks:
(a) It is (relatively) expensive. There’s a transparent breakdown of costs here (as you’ll see if you click on that link, the Hackney Suzuki Hub that we went to offers discounts to people who are struggling with the cost.)
(b) It requires a really big time commitment – one 90-minute group lesson plus a 30-minute private lesson every week – so, when you factor in the travel time each way, it’s not for the faint-hearted.
(c)  It requires a lot of input from the parent: you are your child’s ‘home teacher’, which means you have to attend all the lessons, take notes and supervise daily (albeit brief) practice sessions at home. I’m hoping this will work out quite well for me because I might learn something along the way but if you don’t have any personal interest in music it might be a turn-off. Also, I’m freelance and work flexible hours so attending lessons will mostly be feasible for me but would be tricky in families where both parents work full-time 9-5.

I’m already hooked so now it’s down to my daughter to decide over the next few weeks of observation whether she is too.

children and concerts

Part of my motivation for returning to music has been child-related – it’s both a way of escaping from them at times and a way to encourage them to play themselves. When all this began, I signed us up to a host of musical events and activities (treading that fine line between enthusiastic, stimulating parent and scary tiger mum). And so it was that yesterday I took them to one of the LSO’s lunchtime concerts for the under-5s. It was led by a lady called Harriette Ashcroft – she’s terrific, full of quirk and bounce with some great tunes to boot. She and a team of five musicians gave playful introductions to each of their instruments: guitar, piano, violin, flute, trombone and double bass. There was a classical variation on twinkle twinkle, a Slavonic dance, a delightful toy owl who swooped through the audience, and a bit of dancing.

The great thing about the LSO concerts is that they really do seem to accept the realities of an audience of under-5s. The concerts last 45 minutes, the atmosphere is very relaxed and the musicians incredibly good-humoured about the chatter and fidgeting, the widespread munching of organic snacks and the occasional toddler wandering through their ensemble.

Despite all that, it doesn’t always work out taking small children along to these things. Our first attempt a few weeks back was not an unqualified success: tears and tantrums aplenty, and they were far more interested in whether there were chocolate chips in the snacks I’d brought along than any of the patient demonstrations by members of the LSO. This time was better, the three-year-old seem to take quiet pleasure in it, sung along to some of the songs, followed the actions, did a little dance. The one-year-old swung between rapt attention and tearing around the hall generally making a nuisance of herself, but on the whole she seemed to be having fun. So, it gets easier.

 

 

Why do people give up playing an instrument?

I know dozens and dozens of people who played an instrument as a child, but I can count on one hand those who’ve kept it up in adulthood. It seems such a shame that all those years of work should go to waste. Over the past month, I’ve received lots of enthusiastic feedback from people who used to play an instrument and would like to get back to it but never have. I’ve also heard a fair few poignant stories from parents whose children used to play well but have given up and can’t be persuaded to get back to it. And I’d love to hear more from you about this.

A few things contributed to the gradual fizzling out of my playing, including: leaving home and wanting on some level to establish my independence by not doing anything I didn’t ‘have’ to do (rather shot myself in the foot there), being distracted by university life and a bundle of other, new commitments, getting to know ‘proper’ musicians and realising I’d never be one of those. Mostly though, for me, it was just laziness. Others have cited embarrassment, uninspiring teachers, and, most commonly, lack of time.

What made you give up and what, if anything, would encourage you to pick it up again? And if you or your child has come back to music what was the catalyst?

What it’s like to watch a symphony at a train station

So, following on from my last post, I dropped everything, grabbed a travel pass and small child, and made it to the BBC Symphony Orchestra’s ‘Pop-Up’ rendition of the finale of Beethoven’s 9th Symphony just in time to see the four soloists glide down the escalator and join the waiting orchestra on the lower concourse at St Pancras station at 1pm today.

(My photos don’t really do it just justice but, in my defence, I was balancing a three-year-old on my right hip so that she could see the orchestra, and snapping with my iPhone in my left hand.) We managed to get a spot very close to the action and there was a terrific buzz in the air. The concert itself was every bit as joyful as you’d expect the Ode to Joy to be – and all the more captivating for the fact that the soloists and orchestra were obviously having such a great time. The woman next to me was almost in tears by the end – she’d just stumbled across the concert after seeing her boyfriend off on a train.

Here are a couple of very short video clips (warning: very wobbly filming, may cause motion sickness):

Tenor Allan Clayton in action

The choir – supplemented by some passers-by who the BBC invited to join in at the last minute – singing that famous bit:

And finally, here’s a shot of Simon Russell Beale, who introduced the event and presents the BBC series, conductor David Robertson, and soloists Ailish Tynan, Daniela Lehner, Allan Clayton and James Rutherford.

From left: Allan Clayton, Ailish Tynan, David Robertson, Simon Russell Beale, Daniela Lehner and James Rutherford

Ailish Tynan and Daniela Lehner were very sweet and offered to have their photo taken with my daughter, Jess, but she came over all starstruck at the last minute and buried herself in my coat. I think it’s a lunchtime escapade she’ll remember anyway. I certainly will.

The BBC’s Symphony series starts at 9pm tomorrow on BBC4.

 

Noisy toy with a silver lining

This is the guitar that a malevolent well-meaning guest gave to my daughter at her third birthday party.

I’m sure you can imagine the noise it makes. Naturally she and her younger sister are completely enchanted with it and would happily play with nothing else if I didn’t occasionally ‘lose’ it for weeks at a time.

Anyway, the point is, children will always love things that produce a big noise and, much as it pains me to say it, it probably all helps to reinforce the idea that making music is a lot of fun. For the sake of your sanity it’s worth erring more on the side of tinkly triangles than lurid pink electric guitars during the early years, but you know which one your children will enjoy most.

Coming soon: some more constructive thoughts from a professional on how to give your children a good musical start in life