Music education at the grownups’ table

I was asked by Alison Armstrong to comment on this Time magazine op-ed by Todd Stoll, the vice president of education at Jazz at Lincoln Center. Before I do, let me give some context: Todd Stoll is a friend and colleague of Wynton Marsalis, and he shares some of Wynton’s beliefs about music.

Wynton Marsalis

Wynton Marsalis advocates for  jazz as “America’s classical music,” the highest achievement of our culture, and the sonic embodiment of our best democratic ideals. The man himself is a brilliant practitioner of the art form. I’ve had the pleasure of hearing him play live several times, and he’s always a riveting improvisor. However, Wynton’s definition of the word “jazz” is a narrow one. He thinks that jazz history ended in about 1965, right before Herbie Hancock traded in his grand piano for a Fender Rhodes. All the developments after that–the introduction of funk, rock, pop, electronic music, and hip-hop– have bastardizations of the music.

Wynton Marsalis’ public stature has given his philosophy enormous weight. His effect on jazz culture has thus been profound, but problematic. On the one hand, he’s been a key force in getting jazz the institutional recognition that it was denied for too many years. On the other hand, the form of jazz that Wynton advocates for is a museum piece, a time capsule of the middle part of the twentieth century. When jazz gained the legitimacy of “classical music,” it also got burdened with classical music’s stuffiness, pedantry, and disconnection from the broader culture. As the more innovative jazz artists try to keep pace with the rest of the culture, they can find themselves more hindered by Wynton than helped.

So, with all that in mind, let’s see what Todd Stoll has to say about the state of music education on America.

No Child Left Behind, the largest attempt at education reform in our nation’s history, resulted in a massive surge in the testing of our kids and an increased focus in “STEM” (science, technology, engineering and math). While well-meaning, this legislation precipitated a gradual and massive decline of students participating in music and arts classes, as test prep and remedial classes took precedence over a broader liberal arts education, and music education was often reduced, cut, or relegated to after school.

Testing culture is a Bad Thing, no question there.

Taken on face value, Every Student Succeeds bodes well for music education and the National Association for Music Education, which spent thousands of hours lobbying on behalf of music teachers everywhere. The new act removes “adequate yearly progress” benchmarks and includes music and arts as part of its definition of a “well-rounded education.” It also refers to time spent teaching music and arts as “protected time.”

That is a Good Thing.

Music and arts educators now have some leverage for increased funding, professional development, equipment, staffing, prioritized scheduling of classes, and a more solid foothold when budgets get tight and cuts are being discussed. I can almost hear the discussions—”We can’t cut a core class now, can we?” In other words, music is finally at the grown-ups table with subjects like science, math, social studies and language arts.

Yes! Great. But how did music get sent to the kids’ table in the first place? How did we come to regard it as a luxury, or worse, a frivolity? How do we learn to value it more highly, so the next time that a rage for quantitative assessment sweeps the federal government, we won’t go through the same cycle all over again?

Now that we’re at the table, we need a national conversation to redefine the depth and quality of the content we teach in our music classes. We need a paradigm shift in how we define outcomes in our music students. And we need to go beyond the right notes, precise rhythms, clear diction and unified phrasing that have set the standard for the past century.

True. The standard music curriculum in America is very much stuck in the model of the nineteenth century European conservatory. There’s so much more we could be doing to awaken kids’ innate musicality.

We should define learning by a student’s intimate knowledge of composers or artists—their personal history, conception and the breadth and scope of their output.

Sure! This sounds good.

Students should know the social and cultural landscape of the era in which any piece was written or recorded, and the circumstances that had an influence.

Stoll is referring here to the outdated notion of “absolute music,” the idea that the best music is “pure,” that it transcends the grubby world of politics and economics and fashion. We definitely want kids to know that music comes from a particular time and place, and that it responds to particular forces and pressures.

We should teach the triumphant mythology of our greatest artists—from Louis Armstrong to Leonard Bernstein, from Marian Anderson to Mary Lou Williams, and others.

Students should definitely know who black and female and Jewish musicians are. Apparently, however, our greatest artists all did their work before 1965.

Students should understand the style and conception of a composer or artist—what are the aesthetics of a specific piece, the notes that have meaning? They should know the influences and inputs that went into the creation of a piece and how to identify those.

Very good idea. I’m a strong believer in the evolutionary biology model of music history. Rather than doing a chronological plod through the Great Men (and now Women), I like the idea of picking a musical trope and tracing out its family tree.

There should be discussion of the definitive recording of a piece, and students should make qualitative judgments on such against a rubric defined by the teacher that easily and broadly gives definition and shape to any genre.

The Wynton Marsalis version of jazz has turned out to be a good fit for academic culture, because there are Canonical Works by Great Masters. In jazz, the canonical work is a recording rather than a score, but the scholarly approach can be the same. This model is problematic for an improvised, largely aural, and dance-oriented tradition like jazz, to say the least, but it is progress to be talking about recording as an art form unto itself.

Selected pieces should illuminate the general concepts of any genre—the 6/8 march, the blues, a lyrical art song, counterpoint, AABA form, or call and response—and students should be able to understand these and know their precise location within a score and what these concepts represent.

Okay. Why? I mean, these are all fine things to learn and teach. But they only become meaningful through use. A kid might rightly question whether their knowledge of lyrical art song or AABA form has anything to do with anything. Once a kid tries writing a song, then this information suddenly become a lot more pertinent.

We should embrace the American arts as a full constituent in our programs—not the pop-tinged sounds of The Voice or Glee but our music: blues, folk, spirituals, jazz, hymns, country and bluegrass, the styles that created the fabric of our culture and concert works by composers who embraced them.

This is where Stoll and I part company. Classical pedagogues have earned a bad reputation for insisting that kids like the wrong music. Stoll is committing the same sin here. Remember, kids: Our Music is not your music. You are supposed to like blues, folk, spirituals, jazz, hymns, country and bluegrass. Those are the styles that created the fabric of our culture. And they inspired concert works by composers, so that really makes them legit. Music that was popular in your lifetime, or your parents’ lifetime, is suspect.

Students should learn that the written score is a starting point. It’s the entry into a world of discovery and aspiration that can transform their lives; it’s deeper than notes. We should help them realize that a lifetime of discovery in music is a worthwhile and enjoyable endeavor.

Score-centrism is a bad look from anyone, and it’s especially disappointing from a jazz guy. What does this statement mean to a kid immersed in rock or hip-hop, where nothing is written down? The score should be presented as what it is: one starting point among many. You can have a lifetime of discovery in music without ever reading a note. I believe that notation is worth teaching, but it’s worth teaching as a means to an end, not as an end unto itself.

These lessons will require new skills, extra work outside of class, more research, and perhaps new training standards for teachers. But, it’s not an insurmountable task, and it is vital, given the current strife of our national discourse.

If we can agree on the definitive recording of West Side Story, we can bridge the partisan divide!

Our arts can help us define who we are and tell us who we can be. They can bind the wounds of racism, compensate for the scourge of socio-economic disadvantage, and inoculate a new generation against the fear of not knowing and understanding those who are different from themselves.

I want this all to be true. But there is some magical thinking at work here, and magical thinking is not going to help us when budgets get cut. I want the kids to have the opportunity to study Leonard Bernstein and Marian Anderson. I’d happily toss standardized testing overboard to free up the time and resources. I believe that doing so will result in better academic outcomes. And I believe that music does make better citizens. But how does it do that? Saying that we need school music in order to instill Reverence for the Great Masters is weak sauce, even if the list of Great Masters now has some women and people of color on it. We need to be able to articulate specifically why music is of value to kids.

I believe that we have a good answer already: the point of music education should be to build emotionally stronger people. Done right, music promotes flow, deep attention, social bonding, and resilience. As Steve Dillon puts it, music is “a powerful weapon against depression.” Kids who are centered, focused, and able to regulate their moods are going to be better students, better citizens, and (most importantly!) happier humans. That is why it’s worth using finite school resources to teach music.

The question we need to ask is: what methods of music education best support emotional development in kids? I believe that the best approach is to treat every kid as a latent musician, and to help them develop as such, to make them producers rather than consumers. If a kid’s musicality can be nurtured best through studying jazz, great! That approach worked for me, because my innermost musical self turns out to have a lot of resonance with Ellington and Coltrane. If a kid finds meaning in Beethoven, also great. But if the key to a particular kid’s lock is hip-hop or trance or country, music education should be equipped to support them too. Pointing young people to music they might otherwise miss out on is a good idea. Stifling them under the weight of a canon is not.

7 thoughts on “Music education at the grownups’ table

  1. Thanks for taking me up on my request! This week I’m filtering through a bunch of music teaching ideas and taking bigger and better steps away from scores and I’m just starting to take some of my students on the journey to be producers, not consumers. One obvious task for me is to start listening to their music, but I’m still so weighed down by how I was taught music, it’s difficult to move beyond that. I’ve been doing @jameshumbers MOOC “music education in the 21st century” this week, and it’s given me an excellent reminder of how only the few succeed in music education and that those few perpetuate a cycle of music education. Todd Stoll’s opinions really only serves those few, but I still have so much to think about to serve the many!

  2. “The question we need to ask is: what methods of music education best support emotional development in kids? I believe that the best approach is to treat every kid as a latent musician, and to help them develop as such, to make them producers rather than consumers.”

    We have access to technology tools that allow children to be producers. Why wouldn’t we want encourage them to create their own genre or style unique to their experience?

    As a lifelong musician, and 20 year music educator, I’ve experience these trends in education first hand. It has been a difficult and heartbreaking journey. I wonder what effect the recent legislation will have on the classroom, if any at all.

  3. Thank you for this post! The Time piece seems like one long argument for “western” (“classical”/notated) side of the western music vs African music debate (http://www.scirp.org/journal/PaperInformation.aspx?PaperID=18775), which is pretty ironic considering the historical aspects of the development of jazz.

    It is interesting to think of 1965 as a tipping point for western popular music to move toward a more “African” form of music – primarily non-notated (passed along via fake books and three barre chords), more emphasis on rhythm, more participatory or part of everyday life? Certainly joining a (garage) band to play rock, punk, hip-hop, even producing techno in your bedroom seems more community related – if even an online community – than traditional orchestral/classical practice. Would the explosion of the Beatles be a catalyst?

    In my day-to-day life, I work in US public education helping teachers and administrators to use educational data for developing and delivering better student instruction. While I don’t support increased levels of standardized testing for students for state and federal accountability purposes, there is data available from many forms of educational testing that is critical in meeting the needs of all students. The range of education available, or more specifically not available, to children – even in an objectively “well developed” nation like the US of 2016 – is astounding.

    Using the (sensible and expected) backlash to No Child Left Behind to forward another separate agenda is disingenuous and even a little sneaky. I could argue everybody wants more access for children to music and the arts – and I would add physical education and mental health – but using standardized testing as the scapegoat is a convenient shortcut and misguided.

    The “more testing = less arts” relationship is correlational, not causal. The reasons for the changes in public education over the past 20 years toward capital A “Accountability” are a complex web of politics, science, and economics. A renewed focus on a curriculum of European music theory and practice won’t untangle any of it. To baldly imply it will – and now is the time! – is both reckless and foolish. And hey, who is going to test our kids on all that notation and musical history and biography anyway?

    We need to promote the value of music, art, and health for a thriving society. You talk clearly about this idea in many other posts – like the one on “consuming” music. Stoll also touches on this directly in the Time article. It is proven we benefit from music directly in many ways. But it should be about the value of the arts in our lives and culture, not for the gain of those with a specific – and really, pretty narrow – agenda. It’s not an either/or, or an “our way or the highway” approach. A balance of varied arts education and “the three Rs” is still needed.

    • And thank you for the comment. There’s a lot to think about here. I agree with you that accountability is important, and that we have to keep some kind of a handle on what’s going on out there. I don’t really believe that testing and the arts are in direct opposition, but the arts are emblematic of the kind of experiential learning that is really hard to assess quantitatively. This bears a ton more discussion, and I’m glad to have you here doing the discussion.

  4. He lost me here: “We should define learning by a student’s intimate knowledge of composers or artists—their personal history, conception and the breadth and scope of their output.” I agree with you: we should define learning by what they are creating. I think people should have knowledge of composers or artists and the context in which they create, but starting with that is like getting a little league team together, but not letting them play the game until they have Babe Ruth’s stats memorized. Something which would never ever happen in sports education. But somehow that’s what we are expected to do as music educators, because that makes it more accessible. Baloney.

    • “like getting a little league team together, but not letting them play the game until they have Babe Ruth’s stats memorized” – perfect, mind if I quote you on that?

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