Sunday, February 28, 2016

An Essential (Jazz) Question

So, what types of American music should music educators be experts in? This is a very difficult question to answer, but I suppose I can boil it down to this. If I were to be an expert in an American form of music with the intent to teach it as an educator, I would choose what I feel is more artistically viable. That, without question, is jazz. History aside, jazz is art music and, as such, would be taught in my classroom.

But in what way? Aside from a jazz band, how can jazz be best incorporated into the band or orchestral classroom? Concert band arrangements of jazz pieces? Maybe something by Gershwin? In a performance setting, I personally would be more interested in seeking out orchestral literature potentially outside of the European idiom. If the goal is to feature pieces by American composers, there are tons of those. Charles Ives has orchestral arrangements of folk songs that can serve as repertoire for years.

The history of music is incredibly important, and in a general music class, or in tandem with another professor, an in depth analysis of folk music and its heritage and lineage and politics would be wonderful, not to mention the poetry found in song lyrics. Folk music also provides an extremely large catalog of music to teach children with based on its simplicity and tried and true forms. These forms can still be heard in popular music, so that is also a great way to try and tie in historical music with modern popular culture if need be. But, aside from those aspects, I do not see a lot of ways that being an expert in American folk music would be a necessity for an educator.

When examining repertoire for educational purposes, I like to cherry pick from Acton Ostling's Criteria for Determining Serious Artistic Merit, as referenced in Instrumental Music Education by Evan Feldman and Ari Contzius. In particular, Ostling's focus on a piece's unpredictability, ingenuity, and musical validity transcending historical or pedagogical importance generally support and highlight a purely artistic aspect of musical expression.

I feel like jazz is an incredible conduit to unadulterated musical expression. The form often wholly depends on it. The idea that a piece of music can (and should?) be different every time is, in and of itself, a great insight into music as art. I also feel like it is, far and away, America's greatest contribution to ("art") music in the world, to speak nothing of the history and the peoples behind the conception of the art form. But I really don't know if music educators need to be experts in jazz, either. It really just depends on what you want to teach and what you think your students could and should learn. There are many variables, and there are many avenues to explore regarding unappreciated forms of musical expression that all have a place in the classroom, should you want them.

Monday, February 22, 2016

On Reflection...

Here is my reflection on the teaching exercise in UB's Secondary Methods Class:

First of all, I was less nervous than I anticipated I would be, which is good since I have no experience with the clarinet. Having a group of my peers watching me certainly added to the anxiety, but I think I could have carried on with the lesson in a similarly confident fashion.

It is probable that the student didn't have an understanding of what my personal objective was. I could have done a better job being upfront with the procedure and maybe a little less laid back and conversational. Structure is very important in education, and I could probably attribute this observation to all I teach. I believe I listened to the student a reasonable amount, or at least made the attempt to, and tried not to talk "at" him. I was able to attain some important information regarding the student's background (family history and involvement in music making) that would help me gauge his motivation and attitude towards the instrument, and this was one of my goals. I do not believe I spoke of anything over the student's head, so I feel like my approach was that of a first band lesson.

Some other approaches from my classmates that I enjoyed were the people who were able to get the student to make sound through the mouthpiece or even instrument. Another good technique was making funny noises with the mouth in a effort to teach the specific approach to the instrument. Something I might have missed that other teacher's seemed to recognize was placing the case on the ground to lessen the probability of breaking the instrument.

Saturday, February 20, 2016

Making Flexible Musicians

My experience in middle school and high school band, as best I can recall, did not make me a flexible musician. It is also possible that I just wasn't looking for music at school to be anything more than what it was; a mostly academic experience. I had bands outside of school that were always practicing and performing, and I never felt much a kinship between the two experiences. I was writing, performing, changing, and arranging things on the fly in my basement. I was part of a musical community that valued Do-It-Yourself ethics. In school I marched in strict formations, played Mozart, and strived to emulate the style of Duke Ellington's drummers to the letter. I never tried to make that music mine. It didn't need me to.

I was one of the kids that Brandt Schneider, a music teacher and author of Creating Musical Flexibility Through the Ensemble, would say "floated" through music class. This does not mean I did not enjoy the experience, or that I didn't receive accolades for my playing. I just wasn't that personally invested in what I played in school. There was never a common link. Well, not until I heard John Coltrane's Giant Steps while at a record store. After that, I made the connection, and fell in love with jazz. Unfortunately, by this point, I was a senior. I had played jazz for 6 or 7 straight years in school and never heard Giant Steps. How could this happen?

I was in a public school system that had a very good music program, and therefore performed annually in festivals and the like. I had the experience that Schneider refers to in his article as being a member of a "repertoire machine". And I really didn't learn a ton about music. This absolutely cannot be entirely laid at the feet of the music program I was a part of, but it certainly does speak to Schneider's thoughts regarding redefining what a music program can, and maybe should, teach its students.

When considering core standards, music education does need to be rethought, or at least rearranged, significantly. Schneider puts forth a wonderful example of integrating concepts like composition and exceptional technique into his lessons to the point that his band really did "own" their music and the instruments they used to make it with. To me, this is a very inspiring and heartening testament to all the ways in which we can enrich the lives of our students and community with music. A plaque from a competition doesn't have to be the ultimate goal.

As someone looking to become a music teacher, my public school musical experience sometimes defines what I feel I'm expected to perpetuate. That scares me a little. Not because I feel like it didn't work, but because if music wasn't so important to me personally, would I have kept digging until it all made sense? That being said, I had some fantastic role models as music teachers, and they did what they did well. I feel like I need to find the common connection, much like I did as a senior in high school, that will allow me to integrate myself into what I feel should be taught as well as what I'm expected to teach. 

Saturday, February 6, 2016

An Introduction


Hello, reader. My name is Thomas Hogan. I am not sure who I am now, but I think I am different from the person I was up until September 3, 2014, the day I lost my wife, Abby, to lymphoma.

Before that day, I had been a musician. I spent a lot of time drumming in bands that played some iteration of rock music while growing up in Connecticut and during the 5 years I lived in California after I graduated from college. When I moved to Washington D.C. I began to instead spend my musical energy composing music via MIDI and selling it to various web sites and production companies with mixed success. I was also a sound designer and music composer for a company that made audio books. I would produce the theme music to certain titles, usually doing my best imitations of Morricone or Elfman. It was a very promising job, I felt at the time, and I certainly saw growth in my skills as a composer and producer from piece to piece. It was also the most fulfilling job I had ever had, previously having worked in hotel AV for far too long in both Santa Barbara and the district.

I felt like I was finally gaining some momentum with my composing hustle when Abby got sick. Looking back, I am not sure if I would be on the same path I am now had things gone differently. I had taught music in New Haven and in Montecito, and I even remember telling my guidance counselor in high school I wanted to be a music teacher. But these "teaching" experiences taught me little more than how to survive to the next day. I would prepare as best I could, and only permit myself to move a little out of my comfort zone, scared of where that might lead me, not confident in my abilities to deal with the unknown. 

I have recently come to terms with the fact that much of my entire life was lived with the same survivalist mentality. Living life in the moment was a foreign concept. Embracing the full spectrum of emotions that life conjures was beyond my grasp. Reexamining why I felt or acted a certain way, or possibly changing my perspective, just didn't cross my mind. I never truly understood that I didn't really know how I actually felt about anything until I lost my best friend to cancer.

I am trying now to really invest myself personally into what I can share with others in this life. While I was very fortunate to have some great music teachers in public school, I feel that I am a long way away from following in their footsteps. My current skill set might be be better aimed at exposing children to music as an interactive art form and cultural phenomenon then training the next Yo-Yo Ma. I am patient and empathetic, and I would like to use these attributes to help in the community. I think teaching is the way.

I believe that all children should learn about music regardless of whether or not they intend to become a musician. I believe music is a powerful force that supersedes entertainment or commoditization. I believe music, as an art form, is an integral piece of the essence of being human. I believe music can help build communities. I believe music can speak to us all and change lives through the enrichment of emotional expression and the exchange of ideas. If I can facilitate this in any way, I will be honored.

Right now I am concentrating on classroom management and getting a feel for teaching in an inner city school. Therefore, concepts found in Teaching Music With Purpose like reactive versus proactive discipline, consistency in teaching breeding standards and expectations, and inconsistency breeding contempt, varying your routine, and using "when..." instead of "why" all resonate the most with me right now. In time, I'm sure other ideas and advice from the book will prove extremely useful.

Music has taken me all over the world, given me my best friends, and accompanied me through the highs and lows of life. Music has effected me so profoundly that it would be dishonest to think I could share anything more personal with the world. My path is now to find out how I can share this best.