Category Archives: musings

general thinking space!

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…

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

The choir who can’t sing

Following my tone deaf pilot scheme, The Choir who can’t sing came into being in January 2012.

Every fortnight, first thing on a Thursday morning, I have the genuine privilege of leading Hymn Practice with the whole school (c.420 willing pupils?!) To their credit, the school as a whole is very receptive to my encouragement, at least in spirit – but in reality, it’s hard work. I am prepared to leap around and make a complete idiot of myself [much to the embarrassment of two of my sons] and I like to kid myself that the pupils enjoy this! However, there is no escaping the fact that teenagers don’t like to embarrass themselves, and on the whole, energy levels can be very low. In particular, teenage boys are inclined to ‘sing’ where they speak ie. pretty sub-sonic level on a monotone, some two octaves away from where I’m aiming at!

So one Thursday morning in late November, I issued a challenge: “I am starting a choir for boys who can’t sing. I think I can give you a gift which will go with you through the rest of your lives – if you’re interested, come and see me to arrange a 10 minute one-to-one assessment to see whether you really can sing or not.” The response was amazing; everyone was talking about it, and I was collared by some most unlikely characters who asked me whether they really thought I might be able to teach them to sing.

At our first rehearsal in January, we had some 25 boys and male staff, ready for a challenge! The first attempts to sing a few unison notes were hilarious, and it struck me how odd it must be for a bunch of lads, most of them serious sportsmen, to be standing in formation singing 5 note scales (or trying to!) I had such admiration for them at that moment, all stepping out of their comfort zones to come with me on this experiment!

Our first song: Lean on me by Bill Withers. In four 30 minute rehearsals, we had a fine performance ready to go! Transposed to suit our range, we had everything – first line humming, verse and chorus, call (soloist) and response (in three-part harmony!), a bit of clapping (on 2 and 4) to get the chorus going, and then a cheesy key-change to really turn up the heat for the final chorus! So on 10 February, just before Valentine’s Day, we performed our song to all the girls in the school! Their screaming and cheering was confirmation that they enjoyed it, and as we filed out, each throwing a red rose into the audience, the future of the Choir who can’t sing was sealed.

We meet each week now, just for 30 minutes, and our next performance will be at  the Benefactors’ Dinner (black tie event) on the eve of the opening our new music department. Repertoire: Shine by Take That, and I love it when you call by The Feeling.

The flip-side? At every spare moment of every day I have boys knocking on my door announcing that they are here for their singing lesson! [I’m not even a singing teacher!] They are hooked, and each one of them is keen to pick up a few more tips between rehearsals. This is a wonderful way of improving the whole choir, and it is working, but it is labour intensive. But it is also some of the most enjoyable time in my week! more

The tone deaf project

In the Lent Term of 2011 I ran a small project with just two sixth form pupils, really out of personal curiosity: to what extent does tone deafness exist?

The initial plan was to work with one boy and one girl, and each week to video their 15 minute one-to-one lesson. We hoped then to make a documentary to play to the whole school, to demonstrate my (assumed) conclusion that anyone can be taught to sing.

For various reasons, the final element of the project was not completed. But I was able to make some very clear observations, which have since led to much more wide reaching and successful research through The Choir who can’t sing. Specifically, there appear to be three main elements which can get a complete non-singer on the road to genuine success within a matter of minutes. These are:

  • more careful listening
  • good breath support
  • confidence and energy

Having been on British Kodaly Academy course two years ago, I am in no doubt that it is vital to develop the ‘inner hearing’ in every musician. Many people who can’t sing don’t listen very carefully to what they are doing, either because they don’t realise how important it is to listen, or because they don’t believe that they can do it and have given up before they even before they have begun. Critical listening is vital. In each instance, I have simply sung a note to the pupil, and have asked them to imagine, in their head (their inner hearing), the sound which they are about to make, before singing it. In almost every case, they have gone on to sing the note straight back to me. My response, just 30 seconds into the session: “Well, you’ve just sung that note back to me perfectly, so you’re not tone deaf.” Their response: “Really?” [Unspoken response: “You’ve got my attention now, keep going…”]

The second element is the necessity of good breathing, and the concept of supporting the breath. Without this, a singer just doesn’t have the fuel to make the voice work. I often use the analogy of a toothpaste tube; if you squeeze it in the middle the squeeze doesn’t last very long, but if you work up from the base it keeps on going. Or else I suggest that if you were under water, you wouldn’t take a breath just yet! Asking the pupil to keep the sound going for another 5/10 seconds will soon show them where the real work is going on, namely the diaphragm. [It’s more complex than this, but a quick demo gets them thinking, and even question how they’ve been breathing all these years….!]

The crucial element, however, is confidence. Most people who can’t sing have had this reinforced over an extended time period by people telling them that they can’t. And they believe it. In all likelihood, this has stopped them from even trying for years, so they have been prevented from practising the first two elements, leaving them very much behind in their vocal development. But that’s more or less all it is – lack of confidence, coupled with lack of practice.

If I have learned nothing else from this project, it’s this:

Students love to succeed. And if they can find success in every lesson, they will keep coming back for more.

‘Fixing’ non-musicians is perhaps not as difficult as it might seem, but more often than not I fear we just ignore them so that we can concentrate on those who already can. In my (recent) experience, the former can be just as fun and exciting, and arguably more life-changing. Enter The Choir who can’t sing!

in less than ten words…

Since arriving at my new school as Director of Music, it has dawned on me [why did it take so long? subject of another blog entry sometime methinks] that music departments ought to be teaching all pupils, not just the musicians. In fact, separating out the musicians from the non-musicians seems to me to be the biggest mistake one could make. It appears to be a common misconception that if you don’t play an instrument, you’re not a musician, and this in turn gives many pupils the perfect get-out clause; ‘I’m not a musician, so you won’t be interested in me.’

As a lover of lists and information, I have spent many hours in the past mulling over the numbers of pupils who play each instrument, the proportions in the school who are learning and the levels which they have attained, and even considering ways in which we can encourage others to take up individual lessons. But this exercise always leaves a considerable number of pupils who fall outside the immediate interests of a music department. Of course it is right to focus on the pupils with talent, and to nurture that talent to the very best of our abilities. Apart from anything else, that is what most people expect from a music department; do you have an orchestra? what sort of things does the choir sing? how many pupils are taking individual instrumental/singing lessons? how many do you have taking GCSE/A level?

However, focusing exclusively on those who can leaves the question: ‘what about those who can’t?‘ I believe that we are letting our pupils down if we don’t answer this question. If someone is not particularly good at maths, we don’t just ignore them and assume that they’ll be better at something else. On the contrary, we give them more attention, more encouragement, and ideally we don’t stop giving that support until they have moved to a place where they feel more able and more confident. This thinking was the inspiration for ‘The choir who can’t sing.’