Coming Soon: Grammy-Winning Music Teachers

TimberlakePortnowLast night during the televised 55th Annual Grammy Awards show, two big music celebrities joined Recording Academy President and CEO Neil Portnow on stage to announce the creation of the Music Educator Award, the presentation of which will begin in 2014. Justin Timberlake—who gave a highly entertaining performance during the show—and Ryan Seacrest offered some very supportive comments for the efforts of music teachers. Timberlake expressed thanks to those who taught him, and called teachers “the unsung heroes of our creative community” (note: “unsung” was probably not an intended pun!). Seacrest noted that for every Grammy winner, “there are thousands of great music educators, working behind the scenes to provide the inspiration, the passion, and the skills our young musicians need.” You can read a transcript of the announcement here.

As they concluded their message, the website www.grammymusicteacher.com was displayed on the screen. I soon visited the site and found some useful information, including several online forms for nominating people for the award. I also noted at the bottom of the site a statement that this new Music Educator Award is supported by the National Association for Music Education (NAfME), as well as the NAMM Foundation. While on the site, I clicked on and took a look at all the various nomination forms. The ones for school administrators, recording academy members, and the general public were all quite similar; they mainly ask for the contact info of the nominee and nominator. The music teacher self-nomination form, however, solicits much more information. I expect that teachers who are nominated by someone else will eventually be directed to this online location. The first page of the form requests contact info, as well as estimates of demographic data for the teacher’s school (e.g., enrollment figures, urban/suburban/rural classification, racial makeup). The second page gets very interesting. It presents a number of position statements about music teaching, to which the teacher indicates his or her agreement. Ones that particularly grabbed my attention include:

  • Large Ensemble performances are a major factor in determining the success of a music program.
  • A successful music program should be determined by the number of students who make music their career.
  • It is important to create musical opportunities that generate interest to a broader student population.
  • Competition events are essential for student motivation.

This page of the application also asks teachers to indicate how often their instruction provides opportunities for improvisation, audiation, and singing (in instrumental rehearsals), as well as attention to music theory, historical context, and the business of music.

The final page of the self-nomination form asks a series of yes-or-no questions about the teacher’s values and priorities in the classroom. For example:

  • Do you provide instruction in multiple genres despite the possibility or probability of overall performance quality suffering?
  • Do you place emphasis on helping students acquire life skills as well as musical skills?
  • Do you emphasize playing/singing by ear as central to becoming an excellent singer/player?
  • Do you emphasize the reading of music as central to becoming an excellent singer/player?

The last item on the entire form is a field into which the teacher can state, in 50 words or less, one compelling reason why he or she should be considered for the award.

The questions and items on the nomination form suggest that the Grammys will be considering some important things when choosing music educators to recognize with this award. I’m glad to see attention will be paid to some of the issues I care so much about, such as creativity/improvisation, playing by ear, student motivation, and broadening the musicianship of teachers and students. It remains to be seen exactly how the Grammys will use and evaluate the data they collect from teachers. It appears that they may be trying to identify music educators who successfully use innovative and more individualized approaches with their students. Of course, as much as I count myself as a progressive in the field of music education, I hope that teachers who also maintain excellence in traditional school music pursuits are not somehow excluded from consideration. The Grammy Music Educator Award FAQ says that initial applications will be electronically scored and ranked, then semi-finalists will submit supplementary materials which a screening committee will review. Then a “Blue Ribbon Committee” will select finalists and recommend a winner. I can find no indication of who will comprise the committee(s). Ultimately, I hope that “Grammy-winning teachers” are selected with much input of highly qualified music educators. Perhaps this is where NAfME’s involvement will come into play.

I encourage everyone to visit the www.grammymusicteacher.com website and nominate a music educator whom you know to be doing great things for students. There are plenty out there, and I plan to submit more than a few nominations myself. Of course it would be virtually impossible for the Grammys to identify the most deserving music teacher, even if one such person were to exist. But still I am looking forward to hearing about whoever is honored with the first Music Educator Award a year from now. Hopefully it will be someone whose story will inspire other teachers and students, and raise awareness of the great value of music education.

Copyright 2013 Robert H. Woody

Source of image: www.grammy.com – photo by Kevork Djansezian/Getty Images

Do Better-Looking Musicians Make Better Sounding Music?

Note: This post is cross-published on my “Live…In Concert” blog on the Psychology Today website.

SingingBeautyIn a week or so, two media-heavy music events will be upon us. Touted as “Music’s Biggest Night,” the Grammy Awards will be televised just one week following the musical-visual spectacle that is the Super Bowl halftime show. If you consider the musicians who’ll be at these events—Taylor Swift, LL Cool J, and Rihanna headline the Grammys, and Beyoncé stars at the big game—as well as other successful performers in the music industry, you might conclude that today’s audiences believe that the best music is offered by the best-looking people. Or perhaps they just prefer to open their ears to those who are also “easy on the eyes.” Of course, this is not just a modern phenomenon, nor is it limited to popular styles of music. The classical world has long featured performers who take the stage adorned in elegant gowns or suits, their appearance further ornamented by makeup, jewelry, and other accessories. Beauty, it seems, is a staple in most all kinds of music performance.

Research has established that what we hear in music—or perhaps more accurately, what we think we hear—is affected by what we see. Musicians (and producers) realize this and choose visual aspects of performance accordingly. As we saw over the recent holiday season, Christmas music usually comes with wintry images for the secular songs and religious ones for the sacred. New Years Eve performances are put on amid eye-catching party scenes. As for the performers themselves, facial expressions, bodily movements, and other visible attributes can heavily influence audience perception of musical quality. This includes the performer’s physical attractiveness.

It’s no secret that physical beauty can make people think and behave differently than they normally would. TV news programs seem to routinely run hidden video social experiments on how beautiful women affect the behavior of men (here’s one I came across recently). Typically, two people act as motorists stranded on the side of the road; one is an attractive woman and the other is…well…not. The cameras capture just how quickly men stop to help the damsel in distress. Of course, visual bias hasn’t always worked in women’s favor, as veteran symphony musicians can tell you. Female musicians were largely excluded from orchestras until behind-the-screen auditions were commonly instituted (Goldin & Rouse, 2000). Sexism notwithstanding, beauty bias seems to extend beyond our highways and into our concert halls, and often serves to advantage musicians who have the right look.

There is research that suggests that listeners hear music as more appealing when it comes from a more attractive musician. Over the last 15 years, an assortment of studies has shown that people tend to rate musical quality higher for performers who are judged to be physically attractive, as compared to those not judged as such (North & Hargreaves, 1997; Ryan et al., 2004; 2006; Wapnick et al., 1997, 1998, 2000, 2009). And it’s not just stage presence that’s more highly appraised. The quality of their sounded music is rated higher. This effect has even been found among highly trained musical evaluators (graduate level music study).

Simple physical beauty may have an effect, but there are other factors that influence how visually attractive a live performance will be. As I alluded to in a previous post, audiences are affected by the visuals cues of a performer’s wardrobe, bodily gestures, and stage behavior. We perceive the sights and sounds of a music performance together. These two forms of sensory input interact with each other (Kopiez & Platz, 2012), and both are filtered by our preexisting tastes and beliefs (e.g., the prestige effect). These cause us to form expectations for performance, which surely vary according to our knowledge of the performance conventions of different styles of music. What is considered attractive in terms of wardrobe and bodily gesture can differ greatly from one musical subculture to the next.

With this in mind, I would suggest that physical attractiveness bias in performance is not merely a matter of a musician’s absolute beauty (if there exists such a thing). Rather, we form expectations of what a “good musician” looks like, and we use them to judge whether particular performers look the part. The journal Psychology of Music recently published a research study smartly entitled “Posh Music Should Equal Posh Dress: An Investigation into the Concert Dress and Physical Appearance of Female Soloists” (Griffiths, 2010). As the title suggests, people’s opinions about the appropriateness of various performance attire—in this case jeans, a short nightclubbing dress, and a longer concert gown—were related to whether the performer played classical, jazz, or folk music. Judgments of appropriate dress coincided with higher ratings of musicality and technical performance ability.

The author of the “Posh” study says her research reinforces the idea that judgments of musical ability are connected to physical appearance. She makes specific application of her findings to the performance practices of female classical musicians. “Women wishing to project a body-focused image,” she writes, “should note that this may have a detrimental effect on perceptions of their musical ability” (p. 175). This research underscores the fact that attractiveness is culturally defined, and certainly different musical subcultures define it differently. It brings to mind the controversies that can be stirred up when classical musicians stray from traditional concert dress. The concerts of pianist Yuja Wang often yield reviews that spend just as much attention on her dresses as on her music making. And when critics have taken issue with her fashion sense, others have taken issue with that.

Though some may disapprove of her wardrobe choices, I imagine that fewer people would dispute that Yuja Wang is an attractive young woman. As mentioned above, a musician’s physical attractiveness can contribute to favorable evaluations of her performing. But could it be that some people actually become better musicians because they are better-looking than others? There is some evidence to suggest this. The studies by Wapnick and colleagues indicated some bias toward attractiveness even when the performers were not seen. In these cases, the performances rated highest in audio-only conditions tended to be those of more attractive musicians (as judged separately). In explaining this, the researchers have theorized a deeper bias: as young musicians develop through training and other performance experiences, those who are more attractive garner more attention, opportunity, and encouragement. “It is conceivable,” they write, “that the effects of attractiveness on progress in music may begin early in life, may be long lasting, and may be profound” (Wapnick et al., 1998, p. 519).

Be it from a natural human mixing of sensory signals or the pervasiveness of beauty-driven media, there clearly exists an attractiveness bias in our modern society. It should not surprise us that it is so evident in music. Though music may primarily be an aural phenomenon, it is well established that visual elements are quite consequential in the appraisal of musical quality. In a meta-analysis of studies on audio-visual music perception, Kopiez and Platz (2012) conclude that the visual dimension is “not a marginal phenomenon…but an important factor in the communication of meaning” and it “exists for classical as well as pop and rock music” (p. 75). It seems that many of the top musicians of today understand this and stage their concerts accordingly. Perhaps with music, audiences shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but research suggests that it’s an awfully hard habit to break.

References

Goldin, C., & Rouse, C. (2000). Orchestrating impartiality: The impact of “blind” auditions on female musicians. The American Economic Review, 90(4), 715-741.

Griffiths, N. K. (2010). ‘Posh music should equal posh dress’: An investigation into the concert dress and physical appearance of female soloists. Psychology of Music, 38(2), 159-177.

Kopiez, R., & Platz, F. (2012). When the eye listens: A meta-analysis of how audio-visual presentation enhances the appreciation of music performance. Music Perception, 30(1), 71-83.

North, A. C., & Hargreaves, D. J. (1997). The effect of physical attractiveness on responses to pop music performers and their music. Empirical Studies of the Arts, 15(1), 75–89.

Ryan, C., & Costa-Giomi, E. (2004). Attractiveness bias in the evaluation of young pianists’ performance. Journal of Research in Music Education, 52(2), 141-54.

Ryan, C., Wapnick, J., Lacaille, N., & Darrow, A. (2006). The effects of various physical characteristics of high-level performers on adjudicators’ performance ratings. Psychology of Music, 34(4), 559-572.

Wapnick, J., Campbell, L., Siddell-Strebel, J., & Darrow, A. (2009). Effects of non-musical attributes and excerpt duration on ratings of high-level piano performances. Musicae Scientiae, 13(1), 35-54.

Wapnick, J., Darrow, A., Kovacs, J., & Dalrymple, L. (1997). Effects of physical attractiveness on evaluation of vocal performance. Journal of Research in Music Education, 45(3), 470-479.

Wapnick, J., Kovacs-Mazza, J., & Darrow, A. (1998). Effects of performer attractiveness, stage behavior, and dress on violin performance evaluation. Journal of Research in Music Education, 46(4), 510-521.

Wapnick, J., Kovacs-Mazza, J., & Darrow, A. (2000). Effects of performer attractiveness, stage behavior, and dress on children’s piano performances. Journal of Research in Music Education, 48(4), 323-336.

Copyright 2013 Robert H. Woody

Source of image: PianoNOLA on Flickr Creative Commons

When Passion is a Prison

Note: This post is cross-published on my “Live…In Concert” blog on the Psychology Today website.

Musicians are often highly driven people. Their drive and passion sustains them as they practice long hours, spend evenings and weekends at various performance gigs, and do the many other things required to build and maintain a music career. Being a musician is rarely a nine-to-five job. It’s more like a way of life. Research has shown that musicians, more than those in many other lines of work, tend to wrap up their personal identity within their occupation. And while the rewards can be great, they also require effort and can come at the expense of other things. So while music is an art for everyone, for those who make it their life’s focus, it’s also a discipline.

Being a passionate musician doesn’t always mean the same thing. Two people who are equally driven may have very different motivations underlying their drive. The key to a rewarding musical life is not just being extremely motivated or dedicated to your music. Some musicians’ passion may be driven by their infatuation with the creative and expressive potential of the art. Others’ passion may be characterized by their being wholly committed to their success as a professional. An emerging line of research is suggesting that the type of passion that musicians have can determine their potential for long-term fulfillment in the field. I believe that even for the most dedicated among us, there’s benefit in examining the motivation that’s at the root of our drive.

To date, the go-to research on musician passion is a study conducted by Bonneville-Roussy, Lavigne, and Vallerand (2011), published in the journal Psychology of Music. Drawing on the prior research of Robert Vallerand and colleagues (2003, 2008), this study of advanced classical musicians provided evidence for a Dualistic Model of Passion. This model indicates two types of passion: (1) harmonious passion, characterized by unpressured choice to engage in an activity, and the experience of positive emotions during and as a result of engaging in it; and (2) obsessive passion, typified by an unmanageable compulsion to carry out an activity, even through negative consequences. Harmonious passion (HP) musicians show a flexible persistence, and are able to balance their music activities with other aspects of life. Obsessive passion (OP) musicians are driven to practice and perform to attain the approval of people in their lives, or to maintain a self-esteem that is contingent upon musical success.

From the descriptions above, it’s probably not surprising to know that in the Bonneville et al. study, as well as others, harmonious passion seemed to facilitate a number of desirable outcomes. HP has been linked to the use of mastery goals (practicing to accomplish something, rather than to avoid failing), more productive practicing behaviors, overall performance level, and psychological well-being (self-reported satisfaction with life). Obsessive passion has been found to be unrelated to these. In contrast, OP is associated with the use of performance-avoidance goals (e.g., practicing to avoid an embarrassing concert) and the experience of guilt feelings when not practicing or improving “enough.”

I first became aware of the research on passion when I was invited to be a part of a “Music and Motivation” session at the International Conference on Motivation a couple years back. Like the research study reviewed above, the presentations there were compelling and led me to think much about this. The drawbacks of an obsessive passion orientation figured heavily into my suggestion in a previous blog post that practicing less might actually foster more musical growth. Fellow Psychology Today blogger Jeanette Bicknell also was moved to write about this line of research when she asked her readers, “Can you be too passionate about music?

As Dr. Bicknell suggests in her post, musicians can be too passionate about their pursuits. Or perhaps they can come to rely on a type of passion that is not optimal for them. But before oversimplifying it as “obsessive passion = bad” and “harmonious passion = good” let me point out some aspects of the OP approach that may at times serve a productive purpose. First, OP musicians often practice to attain the acceptance or approval of their instructors and others. Of course, among children who are beginners on a musical instrument, this kind of extrinsic motivation is very common. Music teachers provide incentives for at-home practicing, and parents add in their own rewards (or punishments) as part of their highly influential support (Creech, 2009). These things are considered by many to be necessities for young musicians to progress through the earliest levels of skill development. Second, it’s been reported that OP musicians experience guilt feelings when they miss practice sessions. Recall, though, that there are two kinds of guilt feelings. One is the proper outcome of your conscience if you actually do something wrong. If young musicians have taken on the responsibility to practice, and they choose to skip it, I’d say guilt feelings are a healthy response.

Note that I’m suggesting these two aspects of obsessive passion—desiring the approval of others, and experiencing guilt feelings—are not so bad if they’re present in young musicians’ lives. As they develop, however, they should depend less on such things for motivation. More and more, they should do music for themselves. They don’t practice because they have to, in order to please others or to avoid guilt feelings—especially if they’re the other kind of guilt feelings, i.e., those stemming from an imagined offense of some kind. Developing musicians ideally learn to practice because it’s become personally meaningful to them. Their musicianship has become an integral part of their identity. They don’t practice and perform out of pressure, or to avoid failure. They do it because they choose to, and because it’s who they are (see my earlier post about Self-Determination Theory).

Especially once they have outgrown the supervision of parents and teachers, even the most driven musicians should not be operating from a sense of compulsion, avoidance of shame, or fear of failure. Being driven by a harmonious passion may not be second nature for many, but the long-term benefits can be great. As mentioned above, HP musicians experience a sense of choice and feelings of enjoyment in their activities. They apply a flexible persistence to their practicing and performing, and are able to balance it with other things in their lives. Those who find the HP approach elusive may want to take stock of their musical activities, and identify sources of anxiety and guilt. They may also look for positive experiences that are missing from their music making, perhaps some that they once enjoyed. Transitioning to a harmonious passionate orientation may feel strange for some, but it may be the key to receiving the best rewards of a musical life.

References

Bonneville-Roussy, A., Lavigne, G. L., & Vallerand, R. J. (2011). When passion leads to excellence: The case of musicians. Psychology of Music, 39(1), 123-138.

Creech, A. (2009). The role of the family in supporting learning. In S. Hallam, I. Cross & M. Thaut (Eds.), The Oxford handbook of music psychology (pp. 295-306). Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press.

Vallerand, R.J., Blanchard, C.M., Mageau, G.A., Koestner, R., Ratelle, C., Léonard, M., Gagné, M., & Marsolais, J. (2003). Les passions de l’âme: On obsessive and harmonious passion. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 85, 756–767.

Vallerand, R.J., Mageau, G.A., Elliot, A.J., Dumais, A., Demers, M.A., & Rousseau, F. (2008). Passion and performance attainment in sport. Psychology of Sport and Exercise, 9, 373–392.

Copyright 2014 Robert H. Woody

  

Source of image: Daniel DJL248 on Flickr Creative Commons

Entertainment is Not Just Entertainment

Music educators often worry about their subject matter not being taken seriously. Other subjects like math, English, and science seem to be especially valued in our society. Most everyone agrees that it’s important that our children receive an education in these things. The subject of music, however, is sometimes relegated to the status of a frill. In many schools, music—and the other arts, for that matter—is seen as an extra-curricular or enrichment activity for students. It seems that in the minds of many, school music exists merely to provide entertainment for school assemblies, sporting events, and occasional concerts.

RockwellTrumpeterSo perhaps as music teachers and arts advocates, we need to take forth the message that music is not just entertainment. I certainly agree with this point, and support efforts to make it better known to school administrators, parents, and student musicians themselves. But I also believe we need to be careful how we go about refuting the perspective of “music as mere entertainment.” We can stray from the true nature of the arts when justify music’s place in schools through its contributions to other skills like abstract reasoning, language acquisition, math proficiency, self-discipline, and spatial intelligence. Although I believe that such transfer effects exist (some of them anyway), I’m not sure if they really make for a compelling argument. I mean, if I discover that my child is struggling with math, will my first response be to find more music opportunities for her? More likely, I’ll look to have her provided with some better math instruction.

Of course it would be silly to take the position that music is not entertainment. For many people, myself included, music is a top form of entertainment in modern life. We spend many hours of our everyday lives listening to music. We take in concerts and other events with our families and friends. And my personal favorite, we make music together…in community auditoriums, church and temple sanctuaries, park amphitheaters, and also in our living rooms, garages, and around the dinner table! These activities can be so important in our lives. Perhaps, in fighting the perception that music is just entertainment, we have missed a larger truth: entertainment is not just entertainment.

This became evident to me over the holiday season as I spent time with my family and friends. Sure, we exchanged gifts and had a few meals together (okay, more than a few). We also enjoyed some very rewarding moments together “entertaining” ourselves. Some of what we did was spectator oriented: we watched televised sporting events, saw a movie, and took in New Years Eve music performances on TV. And some of what we did I would call more participatory: we played cards and board games, sledded down a snowy hill, and even went to an indoor trampoline park. Musically, there was singing, piano and guitar playing, and I even offered up a midnight rendition of Auld Lang Syne on my trumpet when 2012 became 2013. (My friend Joel even tried his hand at deejaying on a new keyboard synthesizer that he bought for his kids, but we won’t talk about that…deadmau5 he is not! :) )

These times of entertainment with family and friends are not just throw-away moments in our lives. They don’t matter less than time spent at our jobs or in carrying out the mundane tasks of home life. In fact, these times of entertainment may be the most important moments of our lives. Often this is when we feel most connected with others, when we grow and solidify relationships, and when we know that we matter to the people in our lives. And even our entertainment in solitude—our alone time listening to music, watching television, or making music for pure enjoyment—can be important moments to us as human beings. These can be critical opportunities for identity development and intrapersonal nurturing. By the music and other entertainment we choose, we can learn about ourselves, and better establish who we are.

So yes, let’s continue to get the word out that music is not merely entertainment. And let’s also not forget that entertainment itself is not just entertainment.

Copyright 2013 Robert H. Woody

Source of image: Norman Rockwell on WikiPaintings.

My Vote Against Partisan Musicianship

With the American political season culminating (finally!) in November with election day, I couldn’t help but identify some musical equivalents of the campaigning and posturing that had been going on. It occurred to me that some people speak about their preferred music with the same fervor that political devotees crusade for their preferred candidate. And much like it is with party loyalists, often touting a favored style of music can go hand in hand with condemning whatever’s perceived as the opposition. While I’m not interested in entering the political arena with my blog, I will offer a position about partisan musicianship: it does not serve anyone’s best interest for music people—be they performers, teachers, or listening connoisseurs—to disparage other musicians and styles in an effort promote their own.

Let me be specific. I don’t believe that the long-term success of classical music depends on convincing enough of the general public that popular music is comparatively inferior. Similarly, attendance at jazz concerts will not likely grow through its supporters taking to Facebook to mock the musicianship of performers like Justin Bieber and Nicki Minaj. And toward the other side of the aisle, I’d say that no one is in a position to dismiss classical music and jazz as boring or weird before making an effort to understand the cultures, values, and purposes of these styles.

Musical exclusivists can easily condemn non-preferred styles if they judge all music by the same set of standards. Comparing apples to oranges is a well-known no-no, but unfortunately it’s still done in music circles. “Quality” is defined differently across the diverse styles that make up Western music. Classical music tends to value precise performance of a notated score; compositions are largely judged by things like harmonic and textural sophistication and extended structural development. Jazz places a premium on harmonic complexity and rhythmic variation, with improvisatory performance being an important hallmark. Popular music typically values creativity outside of harmonic complexity, instead relying on sound (timbre) combinations, rhythmic groove, and melodic memorability; live performances are expected to have a strong visual component, through facial/bodily expression, gesture and dance, and performer-audience interaction. If you apply the values of one musical style to another, you can quickly reject it as bad music. Calling a pop song bad music because it uses only three chords is like calling a classical composition bad music because you can’t sing along to the melody after one hearing. Yes, the crisp texture of an apple makes for a really bad orange.

Several months ago, in the throes of the political campaigning, I commented on Facebook that it was easy for me to dismiss people’s opinion of what is the best thing—be it a political party, social cause, or musical style—when that thing corresponds exactly to what’s familiar and deeply assimilated by them. In such cases, I wonder whether they ever adopted that thing because they were convinced of its merits, or whether they “just know” it’s the best because it’s what they’re used to. What gets my full attention, however, is when someone espouses a thing in which they do not have such an obvious vested interest. I don’t often encounter this. It’s far more common to find people making cases for what is personally dear to them, sometimes doing so in pretty unpleasant ways. When followers of a cause defend it so harshly, I suspect that they’re actually hindering the advancement of it.

Perhaps it’s human nature, when considering unfamiliar things, to compare them to what we already know and are comfortable with. In response to my comment on Facebook, my friend Chris Varga offered me an excerpt from the book The Jazz Musician’s Guide to Creative Practicing, by David Berkman. In it, this highly accomplished musician encourages his readers to listen to music without deciding whether or not they like it. Berkman says:

That’s difficult to do. For many people, deciding whether or not they like a piece of music is the first thing they think of when they hear a new piece. Often younger players have strong ideas about who they like and who they don’t. I still have favorite players…but I am more appreciative of more players now than when I was younger. A lot more of them are just too good not to like, even if you don’t want to sound like them yourself.

I’d like to see more musicians striving to be pluralists, accepting and even applauding those whose music making is different than their own. And here’s where I acknowledge that my musical-political analogies eventually break down. I recognize that in politics, there are important moral issues and governmental policies being debated, and that there truly are positions in opposition to each other. But I think this is very rarely the case in music. People are capable of enjoying a huge variety of musical styles, and they can all coexist on our iPods! So though I’m skeptical about every seeing much bi-partisan action in the political arena, I hold out much greater hope for music.

Copyright 2012 Robert H. Woody

Source of image: junsjazz on Flickr Creative Commons.

Do You Hear What I Hear?

Note: This post is cross-published on my “Live…In Concert” blog on the Psychology Today website.

In many ways, the label “self-taught musician” is a misnomer. Even those who learn from YouTube videos avail themselves of the musical models of others. Most people who become skilled musicians only do so with the involvement of other people such as teachers, mentors, and musical peers. One of the most important functions they serve is giving feedback. Whether in the formal contexts of school classes or private lessons, or in more informal settings like a friend’s garage or basement, budding performers learn a lot about their musicianship from other people’s evaluation and advice.

At some point in their development, young musicians become less dependent on the appraisals of others and engage more in self-evaluation. Accurately hearing one’s own performance, however, is not always a straightforward process. In fact, self-awareness may not be a strong suit for some performers. I was recently asked about this by someone in audio production and engineering whose experiences had led him to believe that many musicians are poor judges of their own work. He wondered if there’s a psychological phenomenon by which performers mentally replace what is actually sounded with a version from their “mind’s ear.”

I think he’s onto something. In my own research, I’ve had numerous experiences in which musicians I’m working with are unaware of aspects of their own performance. In some ways, this is hardly noteworthy. Many of the expressive features that musicians put in their performances are done fairly automatically, presumably the result of much musical enculturation and practice. In one experiment (Woody, 2003), I asked advanced pianists to play a “deadpan” version of a melody—one with no expressive variations in tempo or loudness—and found that they were consistently unable to do it. But what’s more interesting are times when performers believe they have added certain expressive features in their music, when in fact they have not. It would seem that their musical intentions interfere with their ability to accurately hear their performance.

To understand this phenomenon better, I offer up a model of cognitive skills used in music performance (I believe it also can be applied to other types of skilled performance such as sports, but I’ll stick to music here). When people make music, there are three kinds of cognition going on:

  • Goal imaging is the ability to generate a clear idea of what the music should sound like. Because music deals with sound, this “image” is primarily aural, but it may also include some visual or conceptual aspects (e.g., focusing on a “high point” in a phrase). While most everyone holds goal images of music in memory—it’s how people can decide whether a particular rendition of a familiar song sounds good or bad—skilled musicians create precise images to guide their own performance.
  • Motor production is the ability to carry out the physical movements and responses needed to sing or play a particular instrument. At first thought, this ability might not seem cognitive in nature, but remember that “muscle memory” resides not in the muscles but in the memory (i.e., the mind). Learning a physical skill involves remembering the “feel” of it. New motor skills start off requiring much conscious effort, but with adequate repetition, they can reach a level of automaticity.
  • Self-monitoring is the ability to accurately hear one’s own performance. This is not always easy to do, which is why musicians can be surprised when they hear recordings of themselves (“Did I really sound like that?”). The importance of self-monitoring is seen in the research showing that musicians’ motor learning is significantly impaired when they cannot hear their performance (e.g., Brown & Palmer, 2012).

It is the interaction between these three skills that accounts for improvement made in musicians’ practice sessions. With a clear idea in mind of what they’re trying to sound like (goal image), musicians can compare it to how they do sound (self-monitoring). Identifying discrepancies between the two should guide them in adjusting their technique (motor production).

Especially when performing unfamiliar music, carrying out these cognitive skills can demand all of a musician’s attention. It may, in fact, demand more. Performers can cognitively “max out” just from concentrating on what they’re trying to sound like and on executing the physical skills required. They may not have attentional resources available to accurately hear the results of their efforts (see also Keller, 2001). This is why younger musicians can be so dependent on the feedback of others to know whether they performed something well. They simply cannot encode into memory both the goal and the outcome of performance. More experienced musicians may become so focused on the expressive intentions of their performances that they forget—or simply do not want to be bothered—to listen objectively to the sounds they’re producing. Instead of comparing the products of goal imaging and self-monitoring to guide their performance, they linger over the goal.

This model can be useful to musicians as they attempt to diagnose their performance problems. It can also be useful to teachers—perhaps even music producers—when they are trying to get performers to change something about their playing or singing. The key comes in pinpointing where a breakdown is happening. Does the musician not have a good idea of what he or she is supposed to sound like? If so, goal imaging can be built through additional listening, both to recordings and expert models (certainly school band directors would have an easier time in rehearsals if their students actually listened to band music). Alternatively, some musicians’ practice sessions may be ineffective because they are unaware of what they truly sound like. Perhaps they are practicing music that so challenges them technically that all their cognitive resources are devoted to merely producing the desired sounds on an instrument. In this case, I’d recommend they audio record their practicing and listen carefully upon playback.

By proposing this model, I’m not suggesting that making music should be experienced as an analytical process. Although I do believe these cognitive skills underlie performance, I’d suggest that musicians only try to bring them to the surface while practicing. Successful performance is marked by more fluid or “natural” music making. I suspect that through initial consciousness and the careful repetition of practice, these cognitive skills become automatized in expert musicians. It’s likely they come to use extramusical ideas—emotions, mental imagery, expressive metaphors—to more efficiently encode into memory the sounds and “feel” of performance that they acquire through experience.

References

Brown, R. M., & Palmer, C. (2012). Auditory-motor learning influences auditory memory for music. Memory & Cognition, 40, 567-578.

Keller, P. E. (2001). Attentional resource allocation in musical ensemble performance. Psychology of Music, 29, 20-38.

Woody, R. H. (2003). Explaining expressive performance: Component cognitive skills in an aural modeling task. Journal of Research in Music Education, 51, 51-63.

Copyright 2012 Robert H. Woody

Source of image: christophheinrich on Flickr Creative Commons.

When Practice, Practice, Practice Isn’t the Answer

Note: This post is cross-published on my “Live…In Concert” blog on the Psychology Today website.

For many musicians, it’s a common scenario: You stand backstage about to go on, and you can feel the adrenaline coursing through your body. You may feel your chest pound, your breathing grow shallow, or a swarm of butterflies attack your stomach. As you take the stage, you notice your hands shake. It’s bad enough that you have to experience these unpleasant feelings, but you also worry that they will ruin how your music sounds onstage.

For those who’ve struggled with it, performance anxiety can seem like a fact of life. They accept it as an inevitable part of performing. And accordingly, they may come to believe that they’ll never sound in concert as good as they did in rehearsal. Performance quality—how accurate or otherwise “good” the music sounds to an audience—is paramount. So dealing with anxiety means somehow compensating for the drop-off in quality that happens onstage. “If I play it 95% well in rehearsal, but only 80% in performance,” one might think, “then if I can get it to 110% in rehearsal, I can expect 95% on stage. Right?”

From this perspective, many have advised musicians that the key to a successful performance is over-preparation. Practice your music so much that even your worst rendition still sounds pretty good. Practice so you know it incredibly well, then practice it some more so that your body will deliver it onstage without thinking, without trying. Then, according to this view, you can have utmost confidence and no reason to worry going into a performance.

I’m certainly a believer in the necessity of practice for building musical skills. But I don’t believe it is always the key to overcoming performance anxiety. In fact, I would suggest that if you can play or sing your music well in rehearsal, but not in the concert, then additional practice is a poor strategy for managing stage fright. Instead of accepting and coping with a drop-off from practice to performance, I’d recommend seeking to remove the factors that diminish quality onstage.

Psychologist Glenn Wilson has divided the sources of musical performance anxiety into three categories: the task, the situation, and the person. Many musicians and researchers, including myself, have found this model useful for understanding performers’ anxiety issues and selecting effective treatments (Klickstein, 2009; Lehmann, Sloboda & Woody, 2007, ch. 8; Wilson & Roland, 2002; Valentine, 2002). When musicians experience anxiety because they believe they’re physically incapable of playing or singing their music, then the task is the source, and additional practice is a viable treatment. However, the situation is a more likely source when worry is brought on by the conditions of a public performance. Situational factors include the presence or absence of co-performers, the makeup of the audience, and any consequences of performance (e.g., an audition or competition). The person as a source of anxiety refers to the influential role that musicians’ own thinking plays. As I mentioned in a previous post, performers’ own thought processes can be empowering or debilitating.

As prevalent as performance anxiety is, the value of diagnosing it has not seemed to catch on. More common are recommended cure-alls, ranging from the silly (“imagine your audience in their underwear”) to the simplistic (“practice, practice, practice”). Also popular are reactive strategies for confronting anxiety. Breathing and muscle relaxation exercises have been found effective for many, and some turn to beta blocking drugs. I think this reflects the fatalist attitude mentioned above, in which musicians accept anxiety as fact and resign to battling symptoms without considering what’s causing them.

A preventative approach starts with identifying the source. While practicing the musical task is undeniably important when approaching a concert, much research suggests that also very influential are the performance situation and what goes on inside the heads of musicians themselves. Here I’ll share a couple recent studies that highlight the impact these can have and the value of addressing them specifically in treatment strategies.

In a 2011 study published in the journal Psychology of Music, three researchers in the UK compared perceived performance anxiety experiences of several different types of musicians, including classical, jazz, and popular (Papageorgi, Creech & Welch, 2011). Across all of their participants, solo performance elicited more anxiety than group performance. Additionally, classical musicians tended to report higher levels of anxiety. The researchers concluded that the traditionally formal context of classical performance may create additional pressure and increase anxiety levels.

That higher anxiety is linked to solo performance (vs. group) and classical contexts (vs. more informal) has been reported in much previous research. These clearly represent situational factors. Greater mastery over one’s music (the task) through practice does not address the intense “on the spot” feeling of a public solo performance, or additional pressure that may be brought on by formal concert settings. Instead, musicians can deal with situational stress through mental rehearsals, in which they try to remain calm while vividly imagining aspects of public performance. When situational anxiety is particularly debilitating, performers may choose a program of systematic desensitization. In this treatment approach, musician carry out a series of performances, learning to control their physiological arousal while gradually progressing from least anxiety-inducing to most anxiety-inducing conditions.

In another recent study, British conservatoire students underwent a “mental skills” training program that addressed sources of anxiety within the categories of the person and the situation. Participants learned to manage anxiety through goal-setting, cognitive restructuring (changing thinking through self-talk), and vivid imagery in mental rehearsals. Compared to a control group, those who received the training experienced a significant increase in their self-efficacy (i.e., perceived competence) toward performing. The post-training comments of these musicians “revealed greater levels of self-awareness, confidence, facilitative views toward and heightened control over anxiety, and healthier perspectives toward music-making” (p. 342).

As the old joke goes, the way to get to Carnegie Hall may very well be practice, practice, practice. But it may not be the key to having performance success once onstage. What’s more, excessive practice may not lead to enjoyment of the experience. Not only can stage fright harm the musical product being presented to an audience, it can prevent musicians from enjoying performance for themselves. I would suggest that many would be better served to focus not on the quality of their music—which may just drive them to more practice—but on finding greater “in the moment” awareness and reward for themselves during performance. This may prompt them to think more carefully about the situational factors that affect their performance experience, and reexamine their thought processes during music making.

References

Clark, T., & Williamon, A. (2011). Evaluation of a mental skills training program for musicians. Journal of Applied Sport Psychology, 23(3), 342-359.

Klickstein, G. (2009). The Musician’s Way. New York: Oxford University Press.

Lehmann, A. C., Sloboda, J. A., & Woody, R. H. (2007). Psychology for musicians. New York: Oxford University Press.

Papageorgi, I., Creech, A., & Welch, G. (2011). Perceived performance anxiety in advanced musicians specializing in different musical genres. Psychology of Music. doi: 10.1177/0305735611408995

Valentine, E. (2002). The fear of performance. In J. Rink (Ed.), Musical performance: A guide to understanding (pp. 168-182). Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press.

Wilson, G. D., & Roland, D. (2002). Performance anxiety. In R. Parncutt & G. E. McPherson (Eds.), The science and psychology of music performance (pp. 47–61). New York: Oxford University Press.

Copyright 2012 Robert H. Woody

Source of image: luxorium on Flickr Creative Commons.