Pass It On and Let It Go

My takeaway from the last two courses I’ve taught is to keep reminding myself to give the whole show over to the group and let them fly. I’m pretty sure I routinely do this, but as anyone who knows me and my work can testify, I have a lot of material, a lot of ways to think about teaching and developing material, a lot of understanding as to how to sequence and scaffold it all and a lot of pleasure in the simple acts of playing games, singing songs and playing music. In short, I love to sing in the ring with the group as one participating member of the community and also am quite comfortable being the sage on the stage sharing what others have called wisdom in regard to this lifetime work in music education. No need to rank those roles, but the proof of success in the two just named is when I shift to the guide on the side and so happily witness the excitement and bubbling energy in the room as the kids—or adults in the workshop– take it on themselves to create something together. 

 

And I felt it just before lunch as I announced their afternoon project, that shift from listening attentively, respectfully, with interest and intrigue to whatever I’m presenting to the explosion of energy as they began to already form groups. Their task is threefold:

 

1)   Take something they know— a Chinese rhyme/ song/ dance/ musical piece— and creating a performance of it. 

2)   In so doing, they should apply something they didn’t know before and now have learned— for example, the principles of elemental orchestration or the integration with body percussion or movement or including their newly-learned recorder skills. 

3)   Finally, they should include something they don’t know, something that bubbles up from the imagination as they improvise musically or trade ideas compositionally or let the material suggest a way forward. 

 

All of this is routinely included in Orff workshops and widely acknowledged as a great practice. However… Many times the teacher skips the stage of actually teaching something new that can now enter their compositional/ choreographic project. Far too often, a teacher throws a little idea out and says, “Go off into small groups and make something up.” I, for one, often find this profoundly unsatisfying, as we simply charge ahead with the way we already think. Without the step of being led by a master teacher/ musician who has been further down the path, it feels a bit indulgent. And yes, if the sage never steps off the stage, that’s a problem in a different direction. But sometimes one I prefer over the superficial small group brainstorm. 

 

After three and a half days of offering so much new information and material and ways of developing material and structures that build dependable foundations for the creative instincts, I’m fairly confident that the results will be stunning. Especially as by singing songs embedded in the cultural tradition, the sense of their ancestors entering the room will probably be palpable. As I’ve often commented, I’m fine being the perpetual outsider with just enough understanding about how particular musical styles work to get some dynamic music-making out into the air. But a simple folk song sung in the voice that should be used in that style is always a moving moment for me. 

They’re working now while I write. I’ll report back later. 

 

PS In choosing the title for this post, I was thinking how this dynamic is the workshop microcosm of our life’s task. To pass on what’s worthy of our attention to the next generation and let them re-create it in their own time and their own voice. The history of jazz is a great example of that process at work. But the current climate of disdaining elders because they’re not on Tik-Tok and not looking to them or expecting the necessary wisdom to keep the human experiment evolving is a grave mistake. As it would be for the elders to expect the young to preserve their work as museum pieces. Both sides must do their proper work. As the oldest guy in the room almost everywhere I teach (though found a participant today born the same year as me!), I feel great pleasure in both passing it on and watching the next generation begin to run with it.