BY STEPHANIE ESLAKE
When I was in high school, I was encouraged to apply for a scholarship which would provide me with a year’s worth of private instrumental tuition. I had been told that in previous years, students who did not win the scholarship had completely given up on their instrument, and my teacher warned me that no matter what should happen, I should keep playing. For me, the idea of giving up based on a potential failure was incomprehensible. But for a lot of students who are in the early stages of their musical life, this sort of confidence and support from their teachers plays an extremely important role in their attitudes toward music and, consequently, their goal of a professional musical career.
String publication The Strad recently published an article titled ‘How to advise a student that music is not the right career’ (May 2, 2014). The story is a compilation of advice from professional music teachers in some of the world’s most famous schools, including the Royal Northern College of Music, Paris Conservatoire, the London Royal College of Music, and Julliard. Toby Appel, who teaches at the latter institution, told The Strad that he would break it to a student by saying, “you can always find a way to have music in your life…in a second- or third-tier orchestra, a community orchestra or chamber music with friends”. Writer Vicky Hancock comments that “although this kind of conversation is tough on both parties, it can be for the best”.
But in reality, is it ever in the best interest of the student to advise that their passion is beyond their capabilities? When is it ok to tell a student to give up on their dreams and ambitions?
There has been a lot of bad press lately about the attitudes in Australia of teachers being too soft on their students. The Herald Sun last December (in ‘It’s time for teachers to be honest about our childrens’ school achievements’ by Rita Panahi) referred to a “cotton wool approach” by Australian schools, saying that “it is imperative to cut with the gobbledygook and tell it like it is”. The Australian level of skill in relation to school subjects such as reading and mathematics certainly leaves a lot to be desired, but should a subject as creative and personal as music performance be approached in the same way?
In my opinion, advising a child to give up on anything in life will only teach them that it’s ok to drop out when the going gets tough. To tell a student to abandon a career they have not had the chance to attempt is a decision that a single teacher, or a single person, should not be responsible for.
I believe that students of any kind should be nurtured and supported until they are able to make their own life and future decisions. Whether or not music is their path, it is important for the individual to understand and accept the responsibility for themselves. This is particularly true in students of the arts, where their work is so often based on the subjective opinions of the public. What do any of us really have in life if we can’t strive to achieve our goals, if we are told to shut them down by the very people we trust to help us reach them?
There is a saying: there are no bad students, only bad teachers. While it is widely accepted that professional musicians have a ‘gift’ from birth, I do not believe that a biologically predisposed knack for playing an instrument, if it so exists, cannot be equalled by a student who works hard to acquire the same skills. Music isn’t about biology, it’s about dedication and passion – and if a student possesses these qualities, they should never be encouraged to abandon them.
Where do you stand? Read the article here.
Image: Tulane Public Relations (Flickr: Music Lessons) [CC-BY-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
Late reply that I’ve been meaning to write for ages… it gets a bit rambly, I apologise…
I would never tell someone they had something they didn’t or try to pump them up or feed unrealistic expectations. But my pet peeve is when students tell me of some teacher in their past (usually a primary school or highschool music teacher running a choir) told them not to sing, or that they COULDN’T sing. GRRRRR. Those teachers need a good slap.
This article is speaking mostly about this in the context of a student having a dream of a successful full-time career in music. How would I approach this? To be honest, I don’t think I would encourage ANYONE, no matter how amazing they were, to expect that a full-time career in performing is a definite possibility. It’s a very difficult dream to achieve and hinges on luck and business smarts (and a multitude of other factors) as much as talent or skill. I would encourage any student to have multiple strings to their bow, figure out how they can serve others (find out what people need and sell them that) keep learning, have a plan B… but never would I recommend that anyone give up on their dream. Doesn’t matter who they are or how good they are or aren’t, I’d give them the same advice – to be an optimistic realist. Something could take off or it could be a complete flop, and it often doesn’t have anything to do with how good you are.
But if you LOVE singing/playing/learning music, I don’t see any reason to ever stop!
For me, teaching singing is just as much about the enjoyment of the act itself as it is about reaching a particular standard – everyone comes to lessons with different aims, all want to improve, some have lofty goals and dreams but others just want to sing because they enjoy it, and want to sound as good as possible while doing so. I have never yet come across a student who could not improve their singing at all with what I have to offer. If I couldn’t help someone improve, I would refer them to a teacher with greater skills than me or who might be more suited to that student’s particular style or needs.
Every student is going to come to me with different goals in music – just enjoyment, some improvement, basic performance, career, world class ability, etc. Every student is going to have different levels of experience, natural ability, motivation to practice, desire to improve, and ambition to achieve at higher levels. All those factors at different levels in each person will contribute to how fast they will progress, and the nature of the way a teacher should teach them.
There’s a point at which lessons potentially become pointless – I have one student in particular who has been coming to me for some time now, I have taught them all the mechanisms and techniques which I know will improve their singing in the ways they want to improve it. We went from weekly lessons to fortnightly lessons… and now at this point I am starting to feel that a lot of the time I am just repeating the same instructions to them over and over. They know the 5 or so mechanisms they need to practice and keep an eye on in order to maintain their good vocal strength, range, versatility, etc. They are not looking to become world-class or megafamous, and their goals for their singing mainly involves doing shows around town in various styles, performing their originals as well as covers, and developing unique sounds. They don’t have specific performances they are preparing for or specific repertoire they are looking to polish to perfection. In a short time from now, they might start to get bored with lessons with me and I might get bored of teaching them and saying the same things over and over. At that point, if they want to continue having lessons, I will suggest they try a different teacher to see if a different perspective could offer them some new insights and greater improvement. With students who are in that middle ground of having brought their voice up to a very decent level of ability and control, but don’t have a desire to be exceptional, there comes a bit of a stalemate like that.
With students who have loftier goals of world class performance/fame/specific productions or performances they are rehearsing for, I would take my teaching to a deeper level, focusing heavily on individual phrases of each song, crafting them in an artistic as well as technical way, challenging them to work harder and practice more. But if a student is not inclined to that much precision, doing this kind of work would be a bit pointless perhaps, and probably boring to them.
If I had a student who was really abysmal at singing, and was showing no signs of improvement after many lessons… to be honest I would be extremely surprised to meet such a person… and if I could not help a student improve at all I would think it much more likely it was a failing on my part than on their part, or a fundamental incompatibility between us, and again I would send them on to a different teacher.
If a student was practicing enough and being taught useful stuff, and not improving, that would be surprising… and also probably pretty disheartening/de-motivating, so I would expect it would cease to be enjoyable, and at some point they would probably give up of their own accord.
My bottom line here is: I would never be dishonest with someone and tell them they were amazing if they weren’t, try to pump them up or give them false expectations.
BUT It doesn’t matter how bad someone was; I would never recommend they give up music. If they don’t improve with my lessons, I would send them to someone I thought could help them better. If they don’t improve with any lessons, they could join a choir or something in order to continue to enjoy music in a casual context.
And if they have bigger dreams than simply enjoying doing music for its own sake – it doesn’t matter how unrealistic their dreams seem to be to me; I would never recommend they give up their dreams. Who the heck am I to claim to be the all-seeing wisewoman who is certain they will fail? Pffff. I would give realistic advice on how to ensure they were not wasting their time and could look at many different ways of fulfilling their passion for music. I would encourage them to have other plans to fall back on. I would tell them honestly my thoughts on how difficult their dreams may be to accomplish. But I would never say, “sorry, I really think you should give up on this.” That is definitely not my place.