Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Practising the Perfect Way
A Way to Practise Passage-Work, by George Kochevitsky
from Clavier magazine 13 (8): 19-20 Available in the library: ML1.C53 MUSI 1974
Summary:
Very little is written specifically about practising piano and the best way of approaching a particular piece of music. So even though it was written in 1974, I found this article to be extremely relevant and interesting. Kochevitsky discusses a procedure for practicing the piano targeting overcoming technical difficulties in specific pieces of music.
In his opinion, it is very helpful to construct the symmetrical inversion of a complicated passage in one hand for the other hand (as in mirror reflection) and to practice both hands together. There is a physiological explanation of this. What is thought to be the development of piano technique is in actuality, the development of the nervous system. Owing to the connections between the identical points in both hemispheres of the brain, the nervous processes taking place in one hemisphere are reproduced in the analogous points of the other. The proprioceptive sensations (those sensations from the movements of the pianist's playing apparatus) have a decisive influence on the development of the piano technique, and are intensified in this way.
Playing softly is important because this minimizes arm activity and allows the finger activity to be perceived more clearly in the cortex cells. Further the right hand, usually better developed, helps to overcome the difficulties encountered in the left hand part. The process is reversed with left-handed people.
The author also discusses a Chopin etude (op. 10 no. 12) in detail and demonstrates with specific musical examples where and how this technique can be applied as an ideal practise method.
Reflection:
A few years ago, I performed one of Chopin’s etudes (op. 10 no. 4) for a piano competition, and I remember having a relatively short time to learn and polish it. This particular etude had much difficult and extremely technical passagework; in retrospect, it was composed in the same parallel, mirror-reflection style as in the etude Kochevitsky discusses. At the time, I remember asking my teacher the best way to practise in order to make the most of the little time I had. She emphasized the importance of practising the parallel passages with both hands, and slowly. I discovered that this method was extremely successful.
My teacher did not actually tell me the reason why this approach worked as well as it did. Perhaps she did not actually know. For her, it may have been simply an intuitive instruction, based on years of experience practising and performing the piano from a very early age. And at the time, I never thought to wonder why; I was just happy that it worked. Following that experience, in learning other repertoire, I found frequent occasion to utilize this practising strategy but still never thought much of the reason it worked until I recently, when I discovered Kochevitsky’s article.
One other thing that my teacher stressed was that in addition to practising softly in such passages, it was important to play slowly and accurately as well. Accuracy is important for the same reason as playing softly – in essence, the fingers are being trained, and not just the brain. Playing something incorrectly not only affects the fingers, but how it is learned in the brain. From this perspective, I entirely agree with Vince Lombardis in his statement that “Practice does not make perfect. Only perfect practice makes perfect.”
Albert Einstein on Music
Albert Einstein on Music
Article from einsteinuniverse.com, a website featuring internationally acclaimed letures written by Professor Brian Foster.
Written by: Brian Foster, Experimental Particle Physicist at the Department of Physics, Oxford Univeristy, United Kingdom.
http://www.einsteinsuniverse.com/PWJAN05foster.pdf
“If I were not a physicist, I would probably be a musician. I often think in music. I live my daydreams in music. I see my life in terms of music.”-Einstein
In an article entitled “Einstein and his love of music”, Professor Brian Foster of Oxford University discusses a lesser known side of Einstein- his life as a violinist. At the age of six, Einstein began to learn the violin. He took lessons until the age of thirteen, then continued on to devote a lot of time to music when living in Switzerland. Not only was he an exceptional violinist, he was a pianist and a hearty improviser. Throughout his life, Einstein befriended many great artists, including pianist Artur Rubinstein, cellist Gregor Piatigorski, and violinist Bronislaw Huberman, who also founded the Israel Philharmonic, of which Einstein was a huge supporter. Many people have commented on the passion and sincerity of his playing, including his friend Janos Plesch, who wtote, “There are many musicians with much better technique, but none, I believe, who ever played with more sincerity or deeper feeling”.
The focal points of Einstein’s taste in music were Bach and Mozart. He tolerated but did not adore Beethoven, and was not a huge lover of Schubert, Schumman and Brahms. Einstein stopped playing towards the end of his life, but never lost his love of the violin or of music. He once said, “I know that the most joy in my life has come to me from my violin”.
Reflection: The part of this article that interested me with regards to this course was the quote from his second wife Elsa, who said that music helped him when he was thinking about theories. According to Elsa, Einstein would retreat to his study, return to the piano and play a few chords, then return to his study eager to write more ideas down. I found this intriguing because when we think of Einstein, a brilliant physicist is usually the first thing that comes to mind for most people. It is intriguing to contemplate what tools Einstein used to encourage his own thinking and creativity. It seems that music was one of these tools. Therefore, I wonder- did music inspire Einstein? Did it relax and soothe him, particularly when he was tense and anxious in the midst of his work? Was music helpful to him because it offered such a different means of expression as compared to his career’s work? Perhaps there is something inherent within music that helped him think more clearly. This makes me question what exactly it is about music that provides inspiration for so many. I have heard (but have not confirmed) about recent studies that show nicotine to improve concentration and fluidity of thought processes. Perhaps music works in a similar way for people consumed by work in other areas. Some writers listen to music for inspiration and to aid in concentration. Perhaps what artists (writers, painters, etc.) do and the thought processes they need to do it are not all that different from what scientists too. It is highly likely that the great thinkers of our time have suffered from a “writer’s block” effect, or have sought out various ways to jump-start or perpetuate creativity.
Music has many connections to physics, in that harmonic motion of a string is a physics-based law, and sound exists on a physical level. The two fields are tightly interwoven, but one does not depend on knowledge of the other. For example, you do not need to understand the laws of physics in order to be a great musician. On the flip side, you do not need to be a proficient, emotionally expressive and/or creative musician to be an innovative physicist. Still, it may make either experience all the richer to have a basic understanding of both sides, because of how intimately related they are to each other.
Going under the knife? Make sure your iPod is charged!
Cooke, Marie, Wendy Chaboyer, Philip Schluter, and Maryanne Hiratos. “The Effect of Music on Preoperative Anxiety in Day Surgery.” Journal of Advanced Nursing 52 (2005): 47-55
Summary:
This study was designed to determine whether day surgery patients who listen to music while waiting before surgery have lower levels of anxiety than those who do not. This was accomplished by assessing levels of anxiety before the patients listened to music and then again after listening. Their participants were randomly divided into three groups of 60 people each, the intervention, placebo, and control groups. The intervention group were allowed to choose the type of music they would listen to, the placebo group wore earphones without music being played, and the control group received only routine care. Results showed that those in the intervention group (who listened to music) showed considerably lower levels of anxiety than those from the other groups. The authors suggest that with the improvements in surgical techniques and anaesthetics there will be an increasing number of day surgeries, and that nursing staff will need faster options of helping patients with preoperative anxiety. Listening to music can be entirely self-driven by the patient.
Reflection:
I found this study to be particularly interesting and relevant as just last year I had to undergo a minor operative procedure under local anaesthetic. I had been quite nervous during the consultation when the surgery date was booked and was thus extremely nervous on the day of the actual surgery. I remember being in the waiting room beforehand with other patients waiting in various stages of anxiety, experiencing the tense atmosphere, and reaching into my bag for my iPod. I put on the headphones and some favourite music and managed to calm myself until it was time for the surgery. I am quite sure that the act of listening to music minimized my anxiety levels while waiting. My own experience agrees with the hypothesis of this particular study.
I would be curious to know if any of the research regarding anxiety and day surgery looks into the effect of listening to music during the surgery itself. During my surgery, the surgical staff in the operating room were playing some type of medieval chant. I have very clear memories of listening to the music and being very grateful for the opportunity to focus on music rather than what was occurring. I would imagine that the music was played more for the benefit of the surgeon, but it had the added result of helping me.
It is notable that the participants in this study were allowed to select their own type of music rather than the researchers using one type of music for everyone. I imagine that music’s anxiety reducing effects would be greatly affected if you strongly disliked the music being played. It was interesting that the authors of this article decided to use three groups in their research. The article pointed out that other studies of this subject area have only used two groups: the intervention group and the control group. This could potentially have some effect on the way that the nursing staff treat the patients and could affect the results. Having a placebo group obviously wearing earphones but without hearing any music was an intelligent way of removing this problem.
The authors of this article suggest that day surgery units should encourage patients to listen to their own music while waiting for surgery. Day surgery units send out informational materials to patients when the date of surgery is booked, it seems that a helpful idea would be to include information about the benefits of listening to music while waiting and suggest that patients bring something that they enjoy listening to.
Hard Rock Therapy for Young Rebels
Reference:
Lehtonen, Kimmo. (2008). Hard Rock Therapy for Young Rebels. Soundeffects, 5 (1), 10-14. Retrieved December 5, 2009 from http://www.soundeffects.wlu.ca/newsletter/vol_05_issue_01.pdf
Summary:
This article is written by a music therapist in Finland and describes his music therapy work with teenagers. Dr. Kimmo Lehtonen works at the Family Rehab Centre and Special School in Turku, Finland, where he works with high-risk teenagers. These teenagers usually have difficult backgrounds including problems with family, school, and drugs and alcohol, and often demonstrate anti-social and aggressive behaviours. At the institution, these teenagers work with family therapists, music therapists, music teachers, and music-club leaders.
Dr. Lehtonen leads music therapy sessions using improvised hard rock music. He employs psychodynamic theory of music and compares his work to play therapy in the way it creates opportunities to work through psychic conflicts. He sees his work as providing experiences of achievement and of ego mastery; experiences that can then be applied to other situations. Dr. Lehtonen views musical improvisation as an activity based heavily in bodily communication and rhythmic experience that hearkens back to the life of the infant.
The process Dr. Lehtonen uses in his music therapy sessions is simple and straightforward. He typically begins by improvising with the client, usually featuring himself on the electric guitar and the client on the drums. In order to provide an experience of togetherness, Dr. Lehtonen allows the client to lead and follows wherever they go, constantly working to make the client sound as great as possible and empower them. In working with the teenagers, Dr. Lehtonen uses aggression and encourages the clients to express emotions of hatred and frustration. He tries to show music’s capacity for catharsis and allows raw and extreme emotions to be expressed.
Dr. Lehtonen’s work with high-risk teenagers has been compared to the highly respected El Sistema, a music program in Venezuela that provides street children with free classical music training. While many classical music lovers are quick to point out that it is classical music that is used with El Sistema, Dr. Lehtonen argues that any type of music can be used to achieve similar results. What is most important is the manner in which the music is introduced.
Dr. Lehtonen also relates the role of music in his life. In the sixties, he was drawn to the electric guitar, and though he studied classical music for years, he always felt out of place with it and eventually returned to jazz and rock. This is the music that speaks to him, and he shares this passion with his clients.
Outside of Dr. Lehtonen’s music therapy sessions, the teenagers at the institution are given opportunities to build their own instruments and are encouraged to join the bands formed at the school. In addition to describing some of the amazing resources available to the students, Dr. Lehtonen relates some inspiring stories from his work with these teenagers.
Reflection:
When I saw the title of this article, I was immediately interested by the idea of using “hard rock therapy” with teenagers. While I have never been particularly enthusiastic about hard rock, I can see that it could create great opportunities when used with teenagers. When I was a teenager, classical music was not the common musical passion among my age group, and I doubt that the situation has changed much since then. I feel that as a teenager, the idea of “needing therapy” does not necessarily help one’s peers to view one in a more favourable light. Classical music therapy on top of it all might be a tough sell.
In contrast, I feel that by using hard rock, the music therapist can potentially meet the client closer to their comfort level. While I am not at all familiar with popular culture among the youth of Finland, at least here in Canada, I suspect that the average teenager is more familiar with hard rock than with classical music. Even if many are not familiar with hard rock exactly, they are likely more comfortable in the presence of electric guitars, bases, and drums than say violins, French horns, and bassoons. Most teenagers can probably name a band, or even just a few songs, that they like that use electric guitar and drums. Dr. Lehtonen also allows his clients to choose the style of music they wish to play and follows their lead. Ultimately then, this approach creates an opportunity for the teenagers to be in a layout they are familiar with, creating music that they enjoy.
This choice of instruments and music genre also provides an opportunity for expressing intense negative emotions and simply expelling energy. I was interested by Dr. Lehtonen’s writing about encouraging emotional expression, even when working with extreme emotions of aggression, anger, and frustration. Dr. Lehtonen refers to the fact that we rarely are given the opportunity to express negative emotions but rather are encouraged to keep them quiet and work around them. I feel that I am more familiar and consequently more comfortable with this approach, but while this technique works well for some, I can imagine it does not appeal to everyone. Dr. Lehtonen specifically refers to encouraging his clients to “beat the drums as though they are the cause of your problems.” I find it compelling that he so actively encourages a physical expression of negative emotion and can imagine that many of his clients feel a tremendous sense of release afterward as a result.
In reading this article, I was struck by the tremendous human and material resources made available to the participating teenagers. Music education is taught in conjunction with music therapy, and the students can have almost ten hours of music instruction and therapy a week. The institution has two well-equipped music studios, and the students have access to a teacher qualified in instrument making to guide them in constructing their very own instrument, should they choose. The students also have opportunities to play in bands. Dr. Lehtonen talks about some of the benefits of playing in a band, including learning from peers, learning about responsibility, and learning to trust and respect your colleagues while collaborating and compromising. I feel that playing in a musical ensemble offers a tremendous opportunity for learning and personal growth, and am quite impressed by this description of the program made available to these youth. All in all, this article almost makes me wish I was a teenager living in Finland.
Listening in Music Therapy
Reference:
Arnason, Carolyn L.R. (2002). Musical Listening: Giving Audience to the Music and Our Clients. Voices: A World Forum for Music Therapy. Retrieved November 29, 2009, from http://www.voices.no/mainissues/Voices2(3)arnason.html
Summary:
This article explores the concept of listening in music therapy by looking at research the author conducted with music therapists on the topic, as well as by examining the author’s own clinical work. Dr. Carolyn Arnason wrote this article while conducting a research study on how music therapists listen to improvised music. The research consists of interviews (in person or by e-mail) with music therapists from various countries who are active clinical improvisers using a music-centred psychotherapy approach and who also listen to recordings of their improvisations.
The underlying research question of the study is “What is musical listening?’ Dr. Arnason structures the interviews around six topic areas, addressing the listening that occurs both in and after improvisations, ideas of analyzing and interpreting improvisations, and the context or background from which these improvisations come. From this research and her own clinical work, Dr. Arnason identifies a number of levels of listening, including the client and his/her music, the music therapist and his/her music, the interpersonal relationship between the two and their co-created music, verbal dialogue, silence and space, and the intangible or spiritual.
In addition to relating ideas from her research, Dr. Arnason draws heavily on her experiences working with Sarah (pseudonym), a 51-year-old woman with severe cerebral palsy with whom Dr. Arnason had worked for three years when writing this article. Sarah’s movement and speech are quite limited and thus instead of engaging in active instrumental playing or verbal dialogue, Sarah engages in intent listening. Dr. Arnason explores what it is that she is listening for in her work with Sarah, and what factors affect this listening.
Reflection:
I really appreciate how Dr. Arnason addresses the issues of listening and of silence in music therapy. Not being a music therapist myself, I often have an inaccurate vision of a music therapist walking into a room and initiating a musical of sorts, in which everything from “real life” is incorporated into music. I was interested by what Dr. Arnason wrote about primarily playing for and not with Sarah. Even though I know that in many instances active participation in the traditional sense by the client is not possible, I suppose I had not given due consideration or respect for other ways in which clients can be actively participating. Dr. Arnason refers to Sarah as being “remarkably available through her listening presence.”
The manner in which Dr. Arnason refers to Sarah’s active, intent listening inspired me to reconsider my view on what constitutes active participation. I have worked as a camp counsellor leading small discussion (or “counselling”) groups and usually strive to get all campers contributing to the discussion with their ideas. I often feel as though I have not succeeded in creating a comfortable environment for all campers when some hold back and remain silent. Even though I can at times see that the silent campers are quite engaged in the discussion, it is hard not to wish that they would speak up. This article stimulated in me a reassessment of this situation.
I can see in myself a certain degree of discomfort with silence, and feel that this is fairly common in our society. When someone is silent we are quick to ask what is wrong, and frequently refer to the “awkward silence” that sometimes occurs in our conversations. I find it quite interesting having conversations with people who incorporate silence in their speech. My first response is to attempt to fill in words for them if they are mid-sentence or make a statement myself if they are between sentences. With some people I know, it has taken me a long time to feel entirely comfortable with these moments of silence without trying to fill them. When I finally stop trying to fill in the silences, I find it remarkable how easy the conversation becomes and how natural a flow it takes on.
I wonder what this tendency away from silence means for our music making. In observing masterclasses, I’m sure we have all seen the ever-common scenario of the coach trying to encourage the student to “take more time” at a certain point of the piece, or allow for a break in sound that is longer than a few milliseconds. As performers we seem to have trouble getting an accurate sense of how long a break we are making and feel uncomfortable in this momentary pause.
I once took an improvisation course in which our professor frequently reminded us of the option of silence in an improvisation, particularly when playing with others. We can easily get caught up in what we are doing or in trying to respond to what others are doing. We may forget that we are still participating in an improvisation if we put down our instruments for a while and let other voices speak more freely. In music, are not the silences between sounds as important as the sounds themselves?
In her research, Dr. Arnason explored the idea of what music therapists listen for both during a session and also after when reviewing the session tapes. As I read, I began to wonder about what could be gained by recording a lesson. As performers we often record ourselves performing to get a more objective view of what is coming across to the audience. We may also ask to record a lesson or masterclass performance to remind ourselves of what we were coached on and again, to get a more objective view of the results of this coaching. I feel it is less common for teachers to ask to record a lesson that they are teaching. Though perhaps it is not as useful as for the music therapist, I suspect that we would still be able to see much about our interaction with our students, giving us a better perspective on how we come across and how our students respond to our comments and actions.
I find it remarkable that Dr. Arnason refers to listening for “Sarah’s intense listening to the music” in their improvisations. I also find particularly poignant the way that Dr. Arnason phrases one of her clinical aims with Sarah as giving her “an aesthetic and relational experience in music that would otherwise be denied her because of her disability and isolation.” Though I’m sure most of the desired implications of this article for music therapy were entirely lost on me, I found the article to be both thought provoking and somehow beautifully reassuring.
Exploring the Musical Brain
Reference:
Leutwyler, Kristin. (January 22, 2001). Exploring the Musical Brain. Scientific American. Retrieved December 1, 1009 from http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=exploring-the-musical-bra
Summary:
The title of this article, “Exploring the Musical Brain,” is wonderfully appropriate as the article explores research investigating where music occurs in the brain and looks to the brain to help identify the origins and purpose of music. In this article, Leutwyler cites research attesting to the amazing power and universality of music, and also its tremendous capacity to baffle scientists with some of the most fundamental questions surrounding its very existence.
The study of music and function is explored, and Leutwyler presents the idea that music, like language, activates various areas of the brain in conjunction with the concept that there is no one part of the brain dedicated exclusively to music. This information is stated through referencing a few examples of scientists’ work in the area and shows that even the very general finding that the right hemisphere is more dominant in musical activities is contentious when considering all the various functions involved in perceiving music.
To further compound matters, Leutwyler cites studies showing that even the visual cortex is activated during the act of perceiving music. Findings suggest that areas of the brain previously understood in terms of our “imagination’s canvas” are involved, perhaps suggesting that the brain creates a symbolic image from which it can better decipher changes in pitch.
Having described how certain brain structures are involved in certain higher-level processing tasks associated with music, Leutwyler shifts the attention to the most basic level of processing. The limbic system, seat of our emotions, is also affected by music. Leutwyler explains that emotions produced in the limbic system generate a series of well-documented physiological responses (for instance, the tendency for heart rate to increase as a result of fear.) A number of scientists have determined that listening to music can evoke physiological changes known to be associated with certain emotions, consequently indicating that music can directly elicit a range of emotions.
The limbic system is evolutionarily an ancient part of the brain, present in many other members of the animal kingdom. Research showing that this ancient system is strongly influenced by music suggests to some scientists that music may have come into existence before humans. This proposal leads to the final section of this article, which explores the use of music by other species and the potential evolutionary advantage of music.
The first member of the animal kingdom whose music is analysed is the humpback whale. In citing Gray and colleagues’ work, the article mentions a variety of musical qualities that are characteristic of both human and humpback whale music. These qualities include rhythms, phrase lengths, use of themes, length of music, range, tone qualities, and even form. Humpback whale music apparently even makes use of rhyme.
The other natural choice of animal in discussion about music is the bird. The same scientists who analysed the music of the whales also identified the presence of Western classical scales in the calls of certain species of bird. The canyon wren is said to sing in the chromatic scale (as well as perform a trill cascade down the musical scale that resembles the opening of Chopin’s ‘Revolutionary’ Étude), while the hermit thrush sings in the pentatonic scale. The existence of these musical universals across species has led some scientists to postulate that there may in fact be some kind of musical universal, as of yet undiscovered.
The final topic of the article is the evolutionary purpose of music. Leutwyler quotes Daniel Levitin’s account of the two oppositional views relating to the evolutionary purpose of music: that music is “an evolutionary accident piggy-backing on language,” compared to the idea that music “must have some ancient and important function.” Possible ancient and important functions that are suggested by Levitin include music as a demonstration of fitness to a potential mate, music as communication, music as a means to stimulate our primitive timing mechanisms, and finally music as a means to stimulate our drive to find patterns in the environment. Leutwyler concludes the article stating, “to be certain, researchers won’t agree on the purpose of music anytime soon which fortunately shouldn’t stop any of us from enjoying it.”
Reflection:
This article, though brief, covers an impressive number of topics and issues relating to the origin and purpose of music, along with its relationship to the brain. Leutwyler explores research from a variety of related fields to get various perspectives on the mysteries of music. I found this article quite interesting, even if the broad number of topics meant that not many of them were explored in tremendous depth. Concepts that were explored, however, proved to be quite intriguing.
I was admittedly rather dumbfounded while reading the passages referencing the work of Gray and her colleagues. I was unaware of the fact that the music of humpback whales had been studied from a Western classical music perspective, and certainly did not realize that these analyses had yielded such strong parallels between the techniques used by “humpback composers” and “human songwriters.” The assertion of the existence of ABA form in whale music was interesting and the claim that “humpback whale songs include repeating refrains that rhyme” was even more entertaining, though my favourite line was likely the one that stated, “as a recent study showed, whale songs are often rather catchy.” It is admittedly tempting to disregard these claims as an example of overzealous anthropomorphizing, but these statements appear to indeed be well supported.
The proposition that music may have originated before humans came as a bit of a surprise to me. Since I first studied music from more of a psychological perspective, I have viewed music, like language, as a uniquely human creation. In the same way as I came to believe that the complexity and variety of our languages are unique to humans, I quickly accepted a similar view of music. This article has made me question my views of music and language, and even my views of humans. I wonder where one draws the line between holding a human-centric view of the world or having a perceived sense of human superiority, and stretching the definition of activities or qualities that many consider human creations such that they become interspecific universals.
Music and the Brain: The Mind of an Artist
Reference:
Music and the Brain: The Mind of an Artist
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NwzUPQKesVI&feature=PlayList&p=485B60074AC6BB7F&index=14
Summary:
This pre-concert lecture, arranged through the Library of Congress, was given jointly by Dr. Michael Kubovy and Dr. Judith Shatin. Dr. Kubovy is a cognitive psychologist and Dr. Shatin is a composer, both of whom teach at the University of Virginia. The lecture is divided between the two speakers, with Dr. Kubovy giving some examples of research on music and the brain, followed by illustrations of some of the ideas presented, led by Dr. Shatin.
Dr. Kubovy begins his portion of the lecture with a discussion of the rich and long-standing topic of meaning in music. Historically music with extramusical connotations has been debased or considered less than pure. Dr. Kubovy and Dr. Shatin oppose this view and claim that music that does not provoke associations of one kind or another is extremely unlikely to work. This view is supported throughout the lecture with findings from a number of studies, many of which showing the relationship between music and language
We have mechanisms in our brain which we have no control over, some of which play a role in music. Dr. Kubovy illustrates this with the classic exercise of asking the audience to state the colour of the font of the words presented. The words are of course names of colours which, after the first two lines, do not correspond with the colour of their font. Dr. Kubovy explains that there are two processes occurring in our brains in this activity, one of which (identifying the colour of the words) is voluntary, while the other (reading the content of the words) is not.
This example illustrates the idea that the mind consists of at least two systems. The first system consists of implicit knowledge and is not under our control. It evolved in order to trigger responses to danger and consequently responds quickly, automatically, is not amenable to our control, and learns slowly. The second system consists of explicit knowledge which is designed to evaluate signals from the implicit system, and learns quite quickly.
Dr. Kubovy introduces the idea of priming by referencing two studies of varying complexity that demonstrate the effect of priming. The first experiment involves generating a list of words and asking the participant to read off works as quickly as possible. It is found that the participant will read a word more quickly if the word immediately preceding it is somehow related, ie. couch followed by sofa. The explanation behind this phenomenon is that when we see one word, our associative network is immediately activated, priming things which are associated with that word, and consequently making it possible for us to access this information more quickly (and say the word faster).
In addition to timing how long it takes a participant to say a primed vs. non-primed word, scientists can study the effects of priming with the use of EEGs. When studying EEGs, one can look at the Event Related Potential (ERP) at a point that occurs about 400milliseconds after an event (called N400) to identify how the brain is responding to that event. The more unexpected an event is, the greater the N400. Dr. Kubovy’s example? The phrase “I like my coffee with cream and dog” will give a greater N400 than “I like my coffee with cream and sugar.” It logically follows that a word preceded by a related word will give a smaller N400.
To relate this all to music, Dr. Kubovy references an experiment by Koelsch in which the word “wide” or “wideness” was primed to see its effect on the way either music or text was perceived. The results related to text were as expected, in that a phrase that incorporated the idea of wideness yielded a smaller N400 than a phrase that did not. This trend, however, was also apparent with music, where the response to a clip of music by Strauss which suggested “wideness” yielded a smaller N400 than a clip of some foreign sounding music which did not suggest “wideness.” Dr. Kubovy’s conclusion is that there was the same magnitude of effect with music as with language on the amount of processing you need to do of a word, and consequently that music and language are far more closely related than one might have expected.
Some musical meaning works by imitation while other meaning works by association. The fact that the brain areas activated by music and language overlap quite a bit, and hence are using similar resources, further seems to justify the strong connection between these two disciplines.
Dr. Kubovy ends his portion of the lecture with one final audience participation exercise in which he shows two shapes, one rounded and one more geometric, and asks whether the top shape (a squiggle which resembles two slightly deformed ovals) is called takété or mallooma (spelling is approximate). This exercise acts as an indication of the strong interconnectedness of sound and visual shapes.
In Dr. Shatin’s section of the lecture, she explores ideas mentioned by Dr. Kobovy using some of her compositions. Through five examples, including purely instrumental as well as vocal works, Dr. Shatin looks at ways in which she has attempted to create certain images or convey an idea to her audience through musical means. In her vocal works, she illustrates specific examples of direct word painting, as well as more general mood ideas. She concludes the lecture with the assertion that there are infinite ways in which composers can speak to us about our experiences through music, even when we are not aware of what exactly is being accessed.
Reflection:
When I first saw the title of this lecture, The Mind of the Artist, and that it was given jointly by a cognitive psychologist and a composer, I was intrigued. My expectations regarding the topic of the lecture, however, were inaccurate and the topic chosen, by my interpretation, would be best described as investigations into how an audience perceives extramusical elements of a musical work.
One of the elements of the lecture I found quite interesting was the idea of dealing specifically with priming in relation to music. Though I have considered the role of expectation in music, I had not thought in terms of priming, per se, and its potential implications. I thought the examples given, however, were somewhat weak.
Wideness is perhaps an awkward word to try to represent musically, as it could be thought of in many ways, for instance the round, hefty sound of a tuba in its lower register could be described as wide. In contrast, a slowly moving, broad line with a sense of forward direction or a line slowly unfolding over time could give the impression of wideness, while the most literal interpretation might be a texture in which instruments are widely spaced across registers, or even a single instrument covering a wide range.
Another element of the study I had difficulty with was the choice of musical examples. The first example, by Strauss, sounded to me like a classic example of what one might think of when one thinks of Western classical music. The sound was familiar in that the instruments (and their arrangement in an orchestra) are well known to me and I am familiar with the harmonies employed. In contrast, the second example came as much more of a surprise to me. I did not immediately identify the instrument or the scale in which it was playing, and the harmonies were not what I was expecting. All in all, it was an unfamiliar and foreign sound to me.
I cannot but think that my unfamiliarity with the second example would greatly affect my N400 upon hearing the example. I suspect that the fact that the music does not express wideness in some way has a significantly smaller impact on my N400 than the fact that I am unfamiliar with and surprised by the music. Depending on who the participants were for this study, I can imagine that they too could have experienced a similar, stronger response, to the second example than to the first.
Finally, I do not feel as though this study truly indicates that music and language are closely related. I do not doubt that music and language are connected, however, I feel that similar results could have been obtained using other modalities, though perhaps to a lesser extent. I suspect that had the study explored smell or taste instead of music, the researchers may have had fewer relevant words to choose from as primers, but likely would have found a smaller N400 to smells that were primed by related words. I believe that when we understand an experience, we are able to express it, or relate it to, experiences in a different modality from that in which we originally encountered it.
I feel that we can, however, learn much from this study, particularly in the field of music education. This study serves as a reminder of the power of cross-modal teaching. When teaching music, we are often dealing with concepts that can seem quite foreign to our students. By using too much technical language that is unfamiliar and overwhelming, we may at times put up barriers for our students. By contrast, we can connect with them by incorporating ideas that they encounter in their non-musical life (for instance, by using visual imagery or other physical activities that use similar motions to those we are trying to encourage on their instrument.) I feel that this approach can help better integrate music into their life and also encourage them to bring experiences from their lives into their music.
One final point I found very interesting was raised in the question and answer period at the end of the lecture. An audience member inquired about the connection between visual content and music, citing the fact that both speakers had spoken extensively of shapes. Dr. Kubovy answered the question referencing a study in which participants were shown that behind a screen, there were a variety of loudspeakers reaching from the floor to the ceiling. The screen was then replaced and a pitch was played by the speakers (all the notes came from the middle speakers). Each participant was then asked which speaker the sound came from. The results clearly showed that participants who heard higher pitches pointed higher than those who heard lower pitches. Dr. Kubovy used this as an example of the power of cross-modal influences.
I would take this one step further and argue that this also demonstrates the power of labels we apply to music. While most of us taught according to the Western classical tradition are quite familiar with the concepts of high and low sounds, these descriptions are essentially arbitrary labels which we apply to help us describe different sounds. Sounds are not inherently “high” or “low,” and consequently these descriptors are not found consistently across cultures. I feel that this example further attests to the power of associative language in music education.