20 July 2008

Music of the Ages


A year ago I completed a small ethnographic study of local amateur music in eastern Iowa. My research and involvement in the project led me to ask the question, “What inspires amateur musicians to love their music so much?” My status as an amateur folk musician and professionally trained Euro-classical musician placed me in a situation where I was able to study and pay careful attention to what made amateur music different from professionally performed music, and to what role it plays in society and in the life of the individual. At the end of my project, I concluded that the motivation of professional musicians and amateur musicians was different. Amateur musicians create music for the pure love and enjoyment of the experience. This realization was in stark contrast to my own experience as a musician professionally trained in the Euro-classical tradition, where music is made to be performed and in cases to earn money, status, and/or recognition.

Today I ask, what is the role of local amateur music in a society that champions professionalism?

Almost one year after the completion of my project I found myself again involved with the community orchestra that I had participated with in the study. At the start of the first rehearsal, without realizing it, I found myself a bit frustrated--the music sounded terrible and the musicians were bad. I quickly recognized the pessimistic attitude building up inside me and started looking into the faces of the people playing the music. They weren’t faces of people concentrating on playing perfectly who were afraid of making mistakes. They showed something entirely different. I saw the faces of children playing together and having fun. They weren’t worried about anything. They were enjoying themselves--something that I was never fully able to do, especially not in a more professional orchestral setting. I was reminded of the story told by Charles Ives, about a young man whose musical sense had been “limited” by intensive study at the Boston Conservatory. The young man commented on the bad singing of one of his father’s friends. To this his father replied, “Look into his face and hear the music of the ages. Don’t pay too much attention to the sounds—for if you do, you may miss the music.” It wasn’t until that moment when I understood the meaning of this quote. The music doesn’t come from notes played beautifully and in tune; it is rooted in something much deeper.

Throughout the past year I have participated in other settings of amateur music making. In September I was put in contact with a small group of woodwind players at the Iowa City Senior Center who were looking for a bassoonist to play in their woodwind quartet. I agreed to “help them out”. I attended the first rehearsal expecting to provide practice and performance suggestions along with the addition of my bassoon playing. My actual experience (which continues to this day) has been quite the contrary. As I meekly add my contribution to the music I sit, listen, and watch these seniors as they enjoy chatting with one another about their lives and their families in between songs. I hear exclamations like “that’s such a fun piece to play!” and “I’m going to need a rest after that chop-buster.” I have yet to hear complaining (or even recognition of) their missed and out-of-tune notes. they are not expecting me to give them any councel or advice for improvement. They only want me to enjoy playing music with them.

This spring I completed a three-year assistantship with the University of Iowa Arts Share program. A couple of years ago I started Service Learning, a program that allows faculty and students from the School of Music perform at underserved facilities in Iowa City such as hospitals, retirement communities, and other assisted living centers. These performances are completely volunteer. I have advertised the program to students and faculty as being an opportunity to do a practice-performance of one’s recital before the actual recital. But my real motivation behind creating the program was to bring musical enrichment to people who are unable to leave their residences to experience it. It has been interesting for me to witness professionally trained musicians (including myself) have the experience of performing for no monetary or scholastic reward. In almost every case, the musicians have thanked me whole-heartedly for the opportunity to perform for such “wonderful” “kind” and “loving” people and everyone who has participated in the program has expressed interest in continuing their involvement. While these professionally trained musicians are not quite receiving an amateur experience, I believe the fact that they are performing for no monetary or scholastic reward requires them reach out of themselves and draw their motivation from something they may not have experienced since they first started learning their instrument.

In my experience most amateur musicians salute the ensembles and individuals who are their professional equivalents. They pay money and make considerable efforts to see and hear these musicians perform. I have rarely encountered amateur musicians who feel their music is demeaned by the Euro-classical tradition of professionalism. In some cases there do arise feelings of inferiority, but usually the amateurs are quite content with their status as being non-professional, even though some may be quite as skilled as those who perform for money. These musicians know that they are doing it for fun and they would like to keep it that way. It is not much different from someone who does math for a living and someone who does it for fun. This is usually the case unless and until a musician of amateur stature decides that he or she would like to make the transition to becoming a professional musician. In this respect the worlds of professional and amateur musicians in the Euro-classical tradition are separate and distinct.

My friends in the community orchestra gathered together to play music with one another and even though some were quite skilled and others were only beginners, these and other small communities of amateur musicians are usually warm and inviting to their members (with out respect to ability level) and enjoy coming together to build relationships and share with one another. The community orchestra musicians challenge themselves intellectually and artistically and enjoy having a break from their daily struggles. They enjoy socializing and sharing musical experiences with one another, and in doing this, build and strengthen their micro-community and relationships with one another. The musicians at the Iowa City Senior Center enjoy these same joys and challenges but on a much more intimate level. They have in a sense created a small familial unit—each person having his or her individual place and contributing to the group in a unique way. The musicians who participate in my Service Learning program share their beautiful music with good-hearted audience members and learn that even they can participate in music purely for the love and experience of making it.

A year ago my argument was that the amateur musicians I learned from participated in music for the love of doing it. I reemphasize that statement and add to it that these musicians and ensembles are essential to the upholding of social and family-like constructs in a society. By enjoying the experience of music rather than the end product, they succeed in building and strengthening family and community relationships in an intense, subjective, human practice.

My study and experience with amateur Euro-classical music has helped me come closer to a realization and understanding of the true essence of music. I have found immense pleasure in experiencing music with amateur musicians and hope to someday be able attain the love of an amateur in my own professional setting.

14 comments:

Anonymous said...

Wow, Michele! Can I share that with my family?? I love your thoughts and reflections on this topic. Your experience with the 'old-folks' sounded so fun and I love your observation of your students and colleagues who went and play just for free and how they had a great experience doing that. My favorite part was your conclusion about these amateur groups and how they are essential...loved that!! Nice job!

merrilykaroly said...

Wow, what a thoughtful post. I think you really hit home on the essence of some important things. Maybe I agree too much with the 'playing for fun' and that is why (for now) I have decided not to pursue my professional musical education further. Of course, sometimes it can be difficult to play in an ensemble where people don't make the effort to play professionally when that is all you are used to...

By the end of my bachelor's in oboe performance, I didn't know why I played the oboe. But I play the piano for fun.

Unknown said...

Even though I know this is unrelated to some degree, this reminds me of a thing my voice teacher taught me. He said there are two kinds of voices in this world: ubu, and ooops. Ooops is "the one and only opulent sound." A beatiful, round, pear-shaped, perfectly-vibratoed,voice. Ubu is a voice that is pure entertainment, or pure character.

Most of us are somewhere in-between. Which means, in truth, there are a LOT of kinds of voices, not just two. Lol.

Anyway, accepting my ubu voice has helped me to develop my ooops voice better. Which, I think, relates to your post in that both have a place: music as pure fun, culture, and entertainment; an "experience," and music as a skill or an art.

Sami Dara said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Sami Dara said...

michele, ryan and and i got your invite for your concert tomorrow. we will try our best to make it. i work but i may get off in time. anywho, we REALLY want to come. and i posted jody's MTC address on my blog.

Unknown said...

sorry, forgot to add that the acronym "ubu" is ugly but useful. :)

George Marie said...

I think that T.M. probably gave this essay an extremely favorable review. I really liked how you described the situation of the orchestra rehearsal. When you looked around the room, you noticed that people were really into the music and enjoying the experience. A lot of different people throughout the history of philosophy have tried to describe this event. Words, phrases, and terms including "intrinsic value" and "unintended moment" get thrown around quite a bit.

Intrinsic value is found wherever we can look into a moment in time, and see that moment for all of its beauty, just because it is a moment in and of itself.

When I play piano, more now so than ever because I only play for enjoyment now, I often forget about the world around me. I don't become totally oblivious to my surroundings, however my spiritual, musical, and emotional sensations are heightened. I realize that this moment in time exists with God, the music, and myself (as well as whoever is with me in the room) and it exists dependent upon nothing else.

Whenever we lose sight of this, especially in professional situations, the moment's intrinsic value is compromised.

sallysue said...

Umm, my comment was becoming too long. I made a post. :)

And, I'm sad I didn't get to say goodbye to your, nor see Maria. That's what I get for not toughing it out.

Travel safe to Atlanta.

George Marie said...

Hey Michele~

Here is a thought, it's kind of random so take it for the salt that it is worth. What if you scrapped your dissertation (assuming you can do this at this point) and write about the different ways that people come into being through music. Perhaps you can incorporate your research of Himie into this. Think about it: all of his life, he earned degrees outside of music while keeping it central to his life.

Sometimes I wonder what his contributions to music academia really were: for example, we have to get a doctorate now to be marketable. I don't necessarily like that, but it's interesting. What if he was really working for a way so that we could keep music at the center of our lives? That may have been something he wanted, but was not necessarily able to have.

Then on the other hand, what about his other accomplishments. What about all the research he did for his degrees in engineering? Obviously he had to set those aside so he could focus on music.

That's a really random train of thoughts, but re-reading your post made me think of him.

merrilykaroly said...

So today on TV someone said that the word "amateur" comes from the root "amore" (Italian) or "amar" (Spanish); in other words, "to love." I thought that was cool, and quite appropriate in the context of this discussion.

michele said...

George!! You're always coming up with new ideas for my dissertation. first it was a book about extended techniques for electric bassoon, and now you want me to write about this???

Well, I seriously think that the UI school of music would be upset with me if I bagged the Himie Voxman biography. I have more information than anyone else, and he is probably going to pass away soon, so I think I'm the only one who can do it. But maybe I will expand this paper and try to get it published??

Anonymous said...

Gosh. I agree with all you have said about this. So why are you only just realizing this now, after doing an official "study" in someone else's community orchestra? You have known this your whole entire life. You have lived it, in a family who has lived it. That is why you are who you are. That, and the exceptional training you have had. That is what is going to make you a great university professor, perhaps teaching music and technique for reasons beyond the motivations of academia.

George Marie said...

Have you ever wondered about virtuosity? I was thinking about this as I was learning guitar. I will never be a guitar virtuoso...however, there are plenty of performers who never attain virtuoso status. Classical, "professional" musicians attain this status because they have to. Amateur musicians practice every day because they love to. Can they attain a virtuoso status...without ever having to take a lesson at all?

michele said...

George, I think it would be really hard.