A safe place to sing

I was a little worried that ‘The Choir who can’t sing’ would be short-lived. I do have a tendency to have ‘big ideas’ which seem exciting at the time, but which soon wane when the next big idea comes along. In addition, someone pointed out to me that once I had taught these lads to sing, the job would be done, so I couldn’t call them ‘The Choir who can’t sing’ anymore. Fair point!

However, the choir is very much up and running this term, and there is as much enthusiasm for it as ever. Granted, the novelty factor might have worn off a little – after all, we have acheived what we set out to do – but that has been replaced instead with a genuine desire to sing. Whereas last year the school were talking about the choir because it was perhaps a quirky idea, now it has simply become a normal part of school life. Each week so far we have had several new boys come along to try out (all of whom have come back the following week), and from my perspective at least, it now appears to be a perfectly acceptable thing for a boy to tell his friends that he is going to ‘choir.’

One of the most thrilling aspects of the choir is that it is perfectly acceptable to come along and not be able to sing! In a regular choir, the person who can’t sing presents all sorts of problems; no one wants to stand next to them, and worst of all, they themselves feel self-conscious and inadequate. Not so in ‘The Choir who can’t sing!’ On the contrary, since most of the choir were once in that position themselves, they know exactly what it was like. This actually makes the choir a very safe learning environment.

At the beginning of each rehearsal we have a short ‘calibrating’ session; I sing a note (something low and lazy so that it’s vocally easier to find) and I then pick out a few of the more confident boys to take it in turns to repeat the note back to me. This not only sharpens the listening skills of everyone present but it also lets everyone know that it is ‘safe’ to allow themselves to be heard. Once four or five boys have had a turn, I find that even the most nervous ones will take the plunge! Of course if someone is miles out then we will have a bit of a laugh at their expense, but deep down I don’t think that anyone is in any doubt that everyone is very keen for everyone else to succeed. At the end of the rehearsal I quite often pick out two or three who are still struggling with pitching, and take them through a few basic skills; again, this might be in front of one or two others who are waiting their turn, and it is fantastic for them all to share in this, and to be encouraged by each other’s successes.

One of the cast for our school production this term, The Pirates of Penzance, can’t sing. He’ll make a great pirate (aaarrrr!) but since practically the whole show is sung, it is going to be difficult for him. Following our first rehearsal this week, I suggested that he come along to ‘The Choir who can’t sing’ to get sorted out! To my delight he showed up today, and I kept him behind afterwards. He’s a fairly typical ‘case’ – each note I sung, however low, he sang back a third-ish lower. At the end of ten minutes, he sang a bottom G, and then rising, B flat, D, G, B flat and then the D above middle C. All beautifully in tune! Not bad for a boy who has never really sung before, because he couldn’t and (perhaps not surprisingly) didn’t enjoy it. I said he should book in for another 10 minute session at some point, to which he replied ‘How about tomorrow lunchtime?’ more

Empower

Before diving headlong into the final E, I think it’s worth clarifying again the aim of instrumental lessons. It may be that some students just want to have some fun, and certainly aren’t contemplating spending hours a day practising hard so that they can go to Music College. That is fine (of course!), but I have serious concerns about ‘teaching’ a pupil each week if the only objective is for them to have fun, regardless of their age or ability; why would this ever be desirable when they could have fun and learn at the same time?

Perhaps a more helpful word than fun would be to be fulfilled – to feel that we have succeeded, that we have done well and our teacher is proud of us. This is something which lasts and becomes a part of us. Fun is transient – it comes to an end, and although we can remember it happening, it doesn’t last. If we are fulfilled, our character is changed. We feel good when we are fulfilled, and that feeling is enjoyable – fun even!

Our ultimate goal should be to empower our pupils, to hand over control to them, to bring them to a place where they can stand on their own two feet and manage without us. This is hugely fulfilling for teacher and pupil alike! And it is transformational. Once our students have learned to learn, they can help themselves, and our job is done.

Reading is something which many people take for granted, but it is the most amazing skill to possess – once you can read, you can help yourself to limitless information. Once a child has realised this potential, there is literally no stopping them. This is empowerment. The child who cannot read will forever rely on someone else to feed them with the information that they want; stories for pleasure, other material for information, and so on. They will be entirely dependent on someone else to guide them.

My hope is that we can draw our pupils out in such a way that, eventually, they become confident musicians who no longer need us. Some won’t make it that far, of course, but whilst they are under our guidance, we should be ever-striving towards this goal.

There will be obstacles along the way, like exams for instance! These can act as a helpful guide and a carrot if used well – but if curiosity and musicianship are neglected in favour of merely constructing a temporary façade for a snapshot assessment, then they are not helpful at all, and in fact serve only to take our eye off the real goal. Although I do use ABRSM with my own pupils, my line, more often than not, is “Do you want a piece of paper, or do you want to learn to play the piano?” It’s possible to do both of course, but those whose only aim is the former are rarely empowered by the outcome.

These goals may seem a long way off, but actually we should be aiming to drip feed a little of this into every lesson. And the final test, without a doubt, is whether our pupils are able to practise effectively! It may be that our pupil is lazy, or has too many other demands on their time, or doesn’t really want to play after all – then again, perhaps we have missed one (or more) of the previous 4Es! It may be that we have set an impossible target for the week which our pupil doesn’t feel able to take on, or we may have been so vague (“More practice this week please!”) that they just don’t know where to start. I think if we get it right, our pupil should leave the lesson with a clear aim for the week, and with the firm thought planted in their head – or even their heart – “I can do that, and I’m looking forward to having a go!”

Follow this link to return to the top – The 5Es for outstanding instrumental teaching

Equip

If you have read the preceeding 3Es – Engage, Enthuse and Develop an Enquiring mind – I hope you will agree that with all of these in place, the teacher is in a much stronger position to equip his/her pupil with the skills that they need to make excellent progress. In fact, we have very likely equipped them with a great deal already; after all, a willingness to learn, enthusiasm and a curious nature are all fantastic attributes in a student!

There are numerous things which we need to equip our pupils with, some obvious and easy to identify, and others less so. Again, a number of these have already been covered, but let’s go back to practice for a moment. Now that we are sure that our pupil is able to self-assess their performance through asking the right sorts of questions of themselves, we need to ensure that they are organising their time well. If it’s not pushing the Monty Python thing too far: “Our two weapons are fear and surprise … and ruthless efficiency!” We still don’t want the fear, but ruthless efficiency can be handy! It’s worth spending some time making sure that our pupils are using their practice time well. [This is not the time to go into a detailed analysis of exactly how to practise – maybe later!]

Determination and perseverance are excellent skills to be developing in our pupils. Both in lessons and in personal practice time, our students will be getting things wrong all the time. This is, after all, how they learn – assuming that they are able to make appropriate judgements and improve on their subsequent attempts. But even the most enthusiastic student can find it a hard slog sometimes, and they need encouragement to keep going. In the same way, self-belief is something which needs to be nurtured if our pupils are continue to stride onward. Well-pitched targets, which they can succeed in regularly, will help pupils to feel that they are achieving, and improving their skills. Praise and encouragement go a long way, coupled perhaps with a little carrot to lead them continually on to the next success.

Perhaps most tied up with the whole question of developing the enquiring mind is the issue of developing musicianship. Firstly, I believe passionately that everyone has musical ability; some find it very easy to access that musical expression, and others most definitely do not, but wherever the student fits in this spectrum, their music teacher should take the responsibility for nurturing this talent, for drawing it out.

I find it very helpful to think of myself first and foremost as a music teacher, but one who just happens to teach that musicianship through the piano. A good technique is necessary, of course, but if the pupil has no understanding of the music which they are playing, it seems a perfectly reasonable question to ask why they are bothering! Over many years of teaching I have encountered pupils who have no idea what key they are playing in, or even the tonality of the piece; who are desperately trying to count note values but can’t even tap the pulse of the music; who think their piece is called ‘A1’; who can’t sing from a C to a C# or D; who show up to an exam expecting to play a Brahms sonata movement, having never even heard the piano part; who have been playing a piece in 6/8 time for six months but who can’t tell me how many beats there are in a bar; who are playing high level repertoire but do not have the first clue about the implications of the harmony. The list is pretty well endless.

It is the music teacher’s responsibility to equip their students with all of these things, and a whole lot more! We need to equip them with the skills that they need to be a musician, not just an instrumentalist or singer. It’s a big job!

And so to the final E, the best one perhaps – Empower.

Develop an Enquiring Mind

The literal meaning of the latin word educare is ‘to draw out’, or as a former teacher of mine defined it, ‘to lead out.’ [I was hopeless at Latin at school, but I’m sure this definition of education is close enough!] There is nothing in the word which suggests that it means attaching information to a pupil in the hope that it sticks – it is much, much deeper than that. This ties in with my strapline – enabling every pupil to find their own voice; to find our own voice, we need to make our own enquiry, to come to our own conclusions so that our learning is somehow sewn deeply inside us, so that we not only know how/why, but understand how/why.

It is all too easy to give the answers, and to be pleased to see our pupils grasp these, put them into practice and master them swiftly; we might even confuse that for teaching. In fact, that’s the next E coming up, which is Equip. Musicians need a huge variety of skills, and it is our role as the teacher to equip them with these – but it is the way in which we equip them which we are addressing here. If we simply need to get the job done, then telling is enough. I recall vividly as a child getting very stressed that my dad wouldn’t ‘help’ me with my maths homework which was due in the following morning. I was struggling, and all I wanted was the answers so that it was done! Our view of ‘help’ differed hugely, in that he wanted me to work it out for myself…

In my experience, the best learning comes from asking the right questions. That is, the pupil asking the right questions. A new piano pupil asked me recently “How do I solve this [technical] problem?” I was absolutely delighted at the enquiry, and gave her my immediate response: “Well done, fantastic! That’s the right question.” Our chief weapon is surprise….! (remember that?) She was genuinely surprised, but also intrigued, and immediately began to offer suggestions as to how she might address the problem. Between us we spent the next few minutes investigating a few solutions and their relative merits, and in the end she was delighted to realise that she had answered her own question.

The teacher’s role in the lesson is to guide this process, to lead or draw out the pupil in a way in which they investigate things for themselves. In this way we are teaching them to be enquiring, to have the confidence to look to themselves to find the answers, and to trust their own judgements. Of course they won’t always get this right, so we need to be constantly shaping their thinking to make the right choice each time, until they can ascertain for themselves what the right choice is. For the beginner there might only be one choice (correct hand position, for example) and we need to ensure that they arrive at it; for the advanced pupil there may be many valid answers, and of course in arriving at one of these, they are finding their own voice.

If a pupil constantly has their own questions fired back at them (which I appreciate can sometimes be frustrating!) I find that eventually they stop asking me, and just ask themselves instead, taking themselves through the same questioning process which I would have done to solve the problem. This self-sufficiency is wonderful to see, and above all it gives me enormous confidence that when it comes to practice, they will be able to use their time wisely.

I have always loved practising because I love problem-solving. The student who can’t problem-solve is always going to be up against it when they practise by themselves, because they are unable to make appropriate judgements on their own performance. If a student does not know which questions to ask, they are unlikely to work out how to improve under their own initiative. And if their own practice time in ineffective, they are not going to make much progress outside their lesson time, and they are certainly going to be unenthusiastic about practice because it doesn’t seem to make much difference. The final part of the cycle will be in finding that they are more difficult to engage because they feel inadequate.

All too often children appear to be entirely dependent on the teacher to tell them what they need to be able to play a particular piece. On closer inspection, it is all too easy to discover that they have little idea what they are doing other than following the instructions they were given. They are not to blame for this, but personally I find it immensely frustrating. On the other hand, once a child realises that they can be in the driving seat, progress can be extraordinary. Forgive me for jumping the gun, but that is empowering! Before that, we need a closer look at how with equip our pupils with all that they need to succeed.

Enthuse

The second E is Enthuse!!!

Once our pupil is engaged, nothing beats a jolly good enthuse! The very nature of engagement means that teacher and pupil have found a connection of some sort, and once this is in place, we are able to share with each other; shared energy, shared excitement, a shared love of music and the instrument which we are studying. This needs to be a two way thing, and when things are going well there can be an infectious anticipation for what the lesson might hold, for both of us.

The teacher needs to have that willingness to share; if there is no engagement, it is still perfectly possible for the teacher to give, but it is the sharing of ideas, a mutual activity, which leads to an altogether deeper level of engagement, which in turn can increase the enthusiasm and desire for learning. Telling is not teaching.

It is also important not to confuse fun for enthusiasm here. Fun is hugely important of course, but our principal aim from the very beginning of the lesson should be to create an environment where our pupil is going to learn. Of course it is hugely flattering and enjoyable to teach a pupil who likes our company and looks forward to our lessons, but at the same time our pupil needs to be under no illusions that the lesson is principally a learning environment. If we hit the mark, the distinction between fun and learning merges and we’re cooking on gas!

One of the principal factors which will engage and enthuse a student is a clear awareness that they are succeeding. If targets are set too low, or are entirely inappropriate, interest will wane; if targets are too high the task becomes daunting, and all but the most persistent will give up. Good targets are those which are set just within reach, and if we can pack our lessons with lots of these (they can be tiny events; “try this, excellent, well done you”) our pupil will feel enabled and quite possibly enthusiastic to try some more. People love to succeed, and success breeds enthusiasm.

If enthusiasm is missing in our lessons, we need to ask ourselves some searching questions. If we come to the conclusion that the student lacks enthusiasm, we need to change tack and find a way to get onto the positive cycle described above. That’s not always easy, and in some instances it can be a long and frustrating process, but as far as I am concerned, this falls very clearly within the teachers’ job description.

Once we have established an engaged and enthusiastic teaching environment, we are ready to do just that – teach! Most importantly, we are setting out to develop an Enquiring mind, and to Equip our students with the skills which they need to progress. First let’s consider the enquiring bit…

Engage

If we fail to engage from the outset, much of what follows in the next half hour might be too late! So much of what we say is actually ‘heard’ through our body language, and to engage our pupils as they enter the room, we need to look like we’re delighted to see them, fired up and ready to get down to work. If we are energised, purposeful and motivated, our pupil will sense that excitement, and realise that we are actually pleased to be teaching them! They need to feel that for the next half an hour they are our central focus, and that they have our undivided attention. Our body language must back this up 100%.

I also feel that it is also really important that we show an interest in the whole person, and treat each pupil as an individual. Paul Harris’ opening line “How’s the hamster?” [The Virtuoso Teacher, Faber 2011] might sound daft, but he’s absolutely right! If we are going to pass on our skills to our students in a way which is enriching, fulfilling and meaningful, we need to know what makes them tick. Our approach needs to be tailor-made for each individual, where we are able to respond to pupils’ interests, needs and strengths. Showing our pupils that we care about them, that we have a genuine interest in them beyond just their evenness of tone, will help to gain their respect and trust.

Another gem from Paul Harris [not an original idea, but that’s where I heard it!] which is surprising in its simplicity: “Telling is not teaching.” Giving does not ensure receiving, so that two way channel needs to be operating well for our wisdom to fall on receptive ears. It’s no good just saying that we’ve been over it again and again but the pupil still doesn’t get it; if that is the case, we need to consider whether we have engaged in a way in which the pupil understands, however clear we might think we are being.

Surprise is a great teaching tool; if a pupil doesn’t know quite what to expect next there can be a wonderful sense of anticipation in a lesson. They need to feel secure, of course, otherwise Monty Python springs to mind: “Our chief weapon is surprise …. surprise and fear….” We don’t want that! But we should avoid ‘same lesson syndrome’ where the pupil comes to the lesson and is subjected to a painfully predictable routine of ‘scales, pieces, sight reading test, see you next week.’ If, on the other hand, your pupil comes to each lesson  expecting something new, engaging and challenging for them each week, they are much more likely to bounce in, ready to learn and respond to your teaching. If we want our pupils to be creative, we should be demonstrating our own creativity, and we can do that through creative teaching.

Learning a musical instrument should be an adventure, not a chore, and as instrumental teachers we need to take the lead. If our lessons are dull and predictable our pupils will begin to question whether we really love what we are doing, and if we don’t, why do we think that they are going to?!

Next up, Enthuse!

The Unthinking Practiser!

As a student (second study pianist at the RCM) I remember learning Stravinsky’s Piano Rag Music. There was a fiddly passage towards the end which, although I had practised it for hours and hours, I just couldn’t manage at speed. I had all but given up, and assumed that it was simply beyond me. I took it to my teacher (Yu Chun Yee, who to this day remains one of my heroes) who gave me two brief instructions, one about fingers, and one about moving my arm. “Now try again” he said. I did, and played it perfectly; and I do mean perfectly. I looked at him, and then looked back at my hands in disbelief, as if he had just waved some magic dust in the air – what had happened didn’t actually seem possible.

It never ceases to amaze me how inefficient students can be when it comes to practising, and many seem to have an extraordinarily vague approach towards what they are setting out to achieve with their practice time – if indeed they think at all about their aims. Even more frustrating is that many believe that they are doing the right thing when they play it over and over again; after all this is, in all likelihood, what they have been instructed to do by their teacher.

But if that is the full extent of their thinking, there is a big problem. Many students waste a great deal of time ‘practising’, when in actual fact they are achieving very little; in fact they are probably making it worse through all that repetition, hard-wiring into their brains the very mistakes which they are trying to eradicate.

For example, an initial play through a passage gives us an idea of how it goes, and a few more attempts will probably result in some initial improvement. However, the student is still stumbling over a few twists and turns or some more tricky fingerings, which result in an overall lack of accuracy and fluency.

It is at this point that the ‘unthinking practiser’ comes unstuck. Due to his initial success, he believes that if he keeps up the repetition method, things will continue to improve. Wrong! As he stumbles over the same notes, time and time again, his brain becomes hard-wired into thinking that all that stumbling is what is required – he ‘practises in’ all those stumbles, wrong notes and hesitations. So the more the student diligently plays a passage over and over again, the further he actually compounds his problems. What is even worse is that the unthinking practiser is left believing either that it takes a very long time to learn things, or else that he simply isn’t very good and that practise is unfulfilling, because he never seems to get much better.

His mistake, of course, is that he is not addressing the problem itself. The problem needs to be identified and rectified; then, and only then, should the ‘play it over and over again’ process begin, which will then ‘practise in’ the correct sequence.

I spend a lot of time helping pupils in this process of actually thinking about what they are doing when they practise, and I find it deeply satisfying. One of the reasons for this is that, more often than not, results are instant. I don’t flatter myself that I am half the teacher that Yu Chun Yee was, but if I can make miracles happen like he did with me, I want to pass some of that on. Although he taught me to play the piano, in fact more than anything else he taught me to think. Paul Harris said to me recently that telling is not teaching. Our pupils need to learn how to learn, not just to play as they are told to.

I view practice as problem solving. Getting something wrong, more often than not, means that I just don’t have the right answer yet, so I need to look at the problem from yet another angle, and have another go. Many students associate mistakes with failure, which is perhaps why so many people don’t like practising – because much of it is exactly that, making mistakes! Bright children can find learning the piano quite frustrating at first, as it is often the only thing that they have ever tried where they constantly get things wrong.

Children need to be taught to problem solve, and not just to keep trying, in vain, until they get it right. We have all heard a teacher say “that bit still needs lots of practice before next lesson” but how often is the pupil left in the dark as to how they are actually going to get it any better? My approach is always this: Make it easy. If a tricky passage is broken down into small enough pieces, every tiny piece will usually be much more manageable, and more often than not, actually very easy. And at the same time, this process generally identifies the little bit which is causing the problem! Reassembly of lots of easy things can make the student feel extremely good about themselves when they realise that something which was difficult is now much less so.

Once a student realises that they have the power to take charge of their own learning, to problem solve and to make progress by themselves, our job is done. With a little less time spent on instructing them to practise, and a lot more on how to practise, our pupils should be able to make much more productive use of that all-important practice time.

Follow this link for more thoughts on the subject of effective music practice

Sing!

The following quote is taken directly from the British Kodály Academy website:

Singing gives direct access to music without the technical difficulties of an instrument. Singing and active participation is therefore the fastest way to learn and internalise music and to develop musicianship skills. It is also the proof of accurate internalisation of the rhythm and melody. Through unaccompanied singing and active participation a student can begin to acquire skills essential to all musicians: musical memory, inner hearing, true intonation and harmonic hearing. Kodály-trained instrumental teachers regard these skills as pre-requisites for instrumental study at every level.

I regularly encounter young instrumentalists who looked amazed, horrified even, at the merest suggestion that they might sing something. Even more upsetting is when this is accompanied by a look which seems to say “Why do I need to sing? I’m a pianist!”

Reading the above lines more carefully, it strikes me that too many of these attributes are overlooked by teachers and pupils alike, [and who should the blame sit with?] who are perhaps too focused on learning to be in instrumentalist rather than a musician. It may sound harsh, but without that inner hearing, where is the point of reference exactly? In many cases, I fear that there isn’t one. The pupil who consistently counts a bar wrong probably can’t feel the pulse, but how often instead does the teacher try to address the problem with tedious counting exercises? More often than not, I have found in these instances that not counting, and just feeling it – internalising the music – works much better! And the best way to do this is to set the instrument aside for a moment and sing. It doesn’t have to be a lovely sound, but once a phrase has been mastered in this way (and I mean mastered, not just sung wrong, once, to appease the teacher) then the student has a point of reference.

I often tell my piano pupils that their fingers should follow their ears. If they can sing the melody, their fingers are more likely to wander in the right direction because they have a sense of where they should be going, because the ear is in charge. If not, playing can simply become a matter of decoding the dots on the page, and being delighted when the right sound comes out (assuming that they can tell!) Likewise, if intonation is a problem for string players, I suggest that they try singing the line. If they can’t sing it in tune, then what chance of playing in tune? But as soon as the ear knows what is right (and the ear has to be involved in singing) then the student will know if he/she is playing out of tune. Again, without giving these vital skills the necessary attention, playing is reduced to putting fingers in roughly the right place. I have a pupil in our orchestra who used to argue blind that F sharp was a ‘high 2nd finger’, and that was what he was playing, so why was I complaining that he was out of tune?! The fact that the F sharp was in a D major chord, and needed careful placing, seemed to be beyond him. Goodness knows what he was listening to, but I suspect not much! [He is much improved these days btw!]

I dream of Singing Week, when all instruments are set aside and teachers encourage their pupils to study their repertoire by singing it! Perhaps a little miming might be allowed as well…

hmmm, so perhaps they CAN sing….

In November last year I presented a challenge to all the boys in the school, claiming that I could teach any one of them to sing, and that I would be forming a choir to demonstrate this. Not in any way to demonstrate my teaching skills, but purely to make the point that I believe that anyone can sing if they have the courage to try. I was genuinely surprised by the uptake by some 35 boys and staff, all of whom told me that they really believed that they could not sing. Since January I have been thrilled by how much commitment they have shown to the task. In the past couple of weeks, as the date of our performance has moved closer, I have had individuals booking times with me to check that they are in shape, and even a ‘harmony part’ sectional rehearsal with five rugby/rowing mad 6th formers. Amazing.

This morning, 6 months on from that initial challenge, The Choir who can’t sing did sing  – Take That’s Shine  – to an audience of over 400, at the beginning of one of our fortnightly whole school singing practices. Although we sang to just the girls back in February, this was our first performance to a capacity crowd!

And did they sing?! Shine is not actually an easy song to sing if you have genuine difficulty in pitching, but these guys have all learned to do that. Every member of the choir can now sing reasonably accurately in tune, although as might be expected with this new skill, they have to listen carefully to guard against slipping into old (bad) habits. But it’s a respectable sound. And they also know how to give a performance! After an engaging sotto voce start and a rousing first chorus, the energy levels crept up and up until our [trademark] cheesy key change for the final chorus clearly had the school thrilled, as was evident by the huge applause! Whether they were impressed by the fact that at times we were singing in three completely different parts (all intentional I promise) or simply by the courage of these chaps to stand in front of their peers and give it everything, I don’t really mind – I was bursting with pride for these guys!

I don’t think the school were in any doubt that they have made a transformational leap from incapable to full on committed and able, never mind their obvious enjoyment. But they actually looked quite shocked when I told them that now it was their turn; ‘We’re all going to have a go now’ At the risk of making singing practice sound dull, we usually sing hymns – so they weren’t entirely convinced at the prospect of singing Shine, complete with organ accompaniment! And sure enough, the first time around, I was confronted by a sea of fairly typically lethargic faces – however well I can get the school going in Singing Practice each fortnight, we always seem to start from scratch again! But after ten minutes they had the roof off the place – wonderful! The equilibrium shifts all the time; that ten minutes can see a real change, but without constant encouragement it swiftly returns to lethargy.

The ultimate master plan is that such a vast majority of the school are wholeheartedly committed to singing that the rest of them go with the flow. I wonder whether this is attainable, but I’m prepared to give all that it takes to get us there. The Choir who can’t sing made a difference in that quest today; top job!

how to teach 420 teenagers to sing!

I’m never quite sure whether I enjoy Thursday mornings! Once again this morning at 8.25am I found myself standing in front of 400+ teenage boys and girls, charged with entertaining them for 20 minutes before the real business of the day starts. Let’s sing! Yeah, right!

In our school the pupils are never hostile to singing, in the way that I remember from my own school days at Wellington, and indeed in taking the occasional hymn practice at Rugby – scary! Docile might be more accurate, or just plain passive. It can take a little while to get them going. This morning I managed it, which got me going for the rest of the day!

I have nailed my colours to the mast in the past two and a half years. The pupils here know that I am prepared to go to any lengths to show my enthusiasm for singing; singing falsetto is a cheap trick, holding on long notes for a jolly long time also does the job, and excessive jumping and wild gestures are par for the course! The frustration comes when, having done all this, all but the converted still just sit there and enjoy the entertainment, failing to realise that I want them to join in!

Singing is a physical thing, and I believe that gesture can really help to persuade the body to get going in the vocal department too. So this morning, entirely unplanned, I suddenly decided that to bounce up and down on our toes might get us going a bit. Great sight, 420 students all bouncing up and down on their toes. And then we sang Thine be the Glory, still bouncing!! The result was amazing; for the first time in quite some while, the Chapel really rang with resonant voices all around [hey, good alliteration!] And even standing still again, it was as if the whole school had woken up a bit and decided to commit a little more to the task ahead of them.

I have a vision of a Chapel where 400+ young voices fill the space with the loud, passionate and uninhibited sound of singing. Standing between me and that vision is teenage inhibition, and not much else I suspect. I don’t think I’m going to  get there, but as I often tell myself – vision first, then work out how you’re going to get there! The Choir who can’t sing has been a hugely enlightening experiment so far – they believe that they can do it, indeed they realise now they can do it, because they know that I believe they can do it. I’m guessing that’s quite simple psychology, but it seems to be working. The big question at the moment is, can this work with a group of 400 rather than twenty something? This morning was, in a small way, a step in the right direction. more