Collegiate Writing Contest

In the Spring of 2009, Clavier Companion sponsored its second annual Collegiate Writing Contest. College students at any level from any country in the world were invited to submit 1,500 word essays on a pedagogical topic of their choice. The grand prize was publication of the winning essay in Clavier Companion. The esteemed panel of judges was comprised of Louise Goss, James Lyke, and Marienne Uszler. We extend our heartfelt congratulations to Scott Dirkse, author of the winning essay printed on page 64 of the current issue. We also want to congratulate four runner-up essays which appear below. These essays appear unedited, as they were submitted. We hope you enjoy reading the perspectives of these young teachers.

These students are the teachers of tomorrow and the future leaders of our profession. Clavier Companion is proud to provide them with an outlet for their ideas, and we will again sponsor this contest in 2010. The entry deadline for the 2010 contest will be June 1st, 2010 and complete rules and regulations can be downloaded here:
2010 Collegiate Writing Contest Rules and Regulations

by Charles B. Lahan, Jr.

While some states experience four distinct seasons, Florida’s weather inevitably varies between winter and summer with little in between.  The rain has kept me in the practice room and off the golf course for a week now.  The rain hints at springtime. 

Recently, I use my computer as a newspaper.  I peruse the New York Times.  I open the Arts section.  I am not surprised.  I read ubiquitous articles about Daniel Barenboim and Mahler, or both.  Fashionable people must discuss these topics in Manhattan.

The spring semester concluded a few weeks ago.  I received good grades.  I made an A- on my jury.  As my teacher said, “Performance majors make A-s.” 

I am a music student. This, however, was not always the case.  I graduated from the University of Florida with a degree in business administration in 2004.  I was a C student of no particular inspiration other than socializing.  I currently live with a high school friend and his border collie.  Like me, he holds a business degree from UF.  We have similar stories.  We both worked for a few years in the private sector.  We made money.  We were unhappy.  He is going to veterinary school. 

I am a music student now.  I came here as a piano performance major.  The piano brought me here.  Believe it or not, there are some peculiar advantages to pursuing a second bachelor’s degree.  I am exempt from “general studies,” having already completed them.  I focus my attention on music. 

Music theory is fascinating to me… the science behind the art.  I enjoy finding connections between harmony and style.  I think about style periods and the socio-cultural reasons for them.  I imagine the style period that we are in now and the style period that we might encounter in the future and I think of my own voice in this process.  I recently decided to double major in music theory. 

These two areas of interest converge for me in a real way.  I am studying William Bolcom’s Nine Bagatelles.  It was written in 1996 for the Van Cliburn Competition.  Many of the sounds in these pieces are new, while some remain old.   I have been neglecting it in my practice.  I admitted to my teacher that I was disappointed in myself for this.

(…the ghost mazurka) is the first piece.  Of the Nine Bagatelles, it will probably remain the most discussed for years to come.  Bolcom quotes Chopin verbatim.  When I think of the piece, I cannot help but be reminded of Tom Stoppards’ classic Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead.  Shakespeare’s Hamlet walks through Stoppards’ play as the “ghost mazurka” ominously enters and exits Bolcom’s work.  The style juxtaposition and eclecticism evident in this piece remain hallmarks of postmodernism. 

I enjoy reading.  (If not about Barenboim or Mahler, then Wagner’s Ring cycle, very fashionable.)  I am reading Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead.  She writes at great lengths about architectural style.  She advocates for modernism as well as individuality and abhors the shallow, trendiness of eclecticism.  Perhaps my understanding is elementary, but I find myself asking, “Is the eclecticism of postmodernism artistic and progressive, or merely shallow and trendy?”

Of course, I read Clavier Companion.  I discovered the periodical through my pedagogy classes.  Each semester, I reviewed a number of articles for my class.  I often cited the predecessors of this publication.  While not as fashionable as the intricacies of Mahler that can be read in the Times, I found practical information that I appreciated.  Piano teachers are a practical bunch. 

Music and sports have been mentioned in the same breath recently (see Pete Jutras’ article in the most recent Clavier Companion).  I am intrigued by this comparison.    In fact, I have heard it said of pianists that we are “hand athletes.”  Considering what we know of technique, this term should be modified to “whole arm athletes,” though it does not sound as appealing.  Look no further than Chopin’s etudes for evidence.  The difficult, repetitive, and mechanical aspects of these gems, when played well, exhibit the utmost in pianistic athleticism.     

I am encouraged that William Westney, author of The Perfect Wrong Note, agrees on this relation between physicality and music.  I believe that many teachers get bogged down in the superfluous language of “artistry” and “musicality” and forget that the physical act of playing the piano can be enjoyable, even fun.  Who of us can deny the guilty pleasure of banging out a piece that we find fun to play?  I am not advocating for the production of young machines capable of only mechanical banging.  It is important to realize, however, that most six year olds are not artists; they are six year olds.  Perhaps a smart teacher out there can parlay this relation between sports and music and the enjoyable physicality of playing into an effective marketing strategy for children, especially the young boys and girls that love sports.  I was one of those boys.  Perhaps I still am.

Tradition is important to musicians.  We revere dead composers; we study the masterworks; we look up to those who have come before us for their wisdom and insight.  The legacy of the masters lives on.  Last semester, I took an art history class.  My instructor always said that the most important question is to ask yourself “why?”  This is something that I try I to do, in general.  I wonder to myself, “Does the importance of tradition and the past affect our ability or willingness to ask why?” 

From my experience with my colleagues, the importance of tradition has created an environment where “questioning” has become less important than “revering.”  This can easily be seen in the attitudes that students have toward their teachers.  In jest, I have often used the phrase “cult of personality” in reference to the way students describe their teachers.  Students are obedient and hard working but I fear, too unquestioning.  Perhaps I am different.  When someone tells me something is true I do not automatically believe it.  Individualism and questioning of authority are not typical of music students, particularly because it is engrained in our heads that the traditions of the past and the wisdom of those who have come before us are of paramount importance. 

“Maestro!” This is an old musical tradition that has faded over the last several decades.  The  “maestro” is usually old and wise.  In fact, the “maestro” is so knowledgeable that to question him would certainly show a lack of respect and possibly plain ignorance.  The “maestro” is not as common anymore.  People do not like being talked down to or commanded.  Collaboration between people on a level playing field is more of the standard nowadays.  For those of you who are concerned about losing this time honored tradition of the “maestro,” do not worry!  Trust me, as a music student, the “maestro” is still alive, even if he is much less common than in previous generations.   Although the “maestro” is not dead, I fear he is on life support.  I am willing to pull the plug. 

“It is a very egotistical thing that we do.”  I once said this to my psychologist in describing pianists and piano performance.  The more I ponder the subject, the more convinced I am that psychology and performance are inextricably bound.  In fact, I have recently come to believe that our limitations as musicians are defined by our own belief in those limitations.  On a less philosophical level, our egotism creates the judgment, criticism, doubt, and fear associated with performance.  My point: if we are realistic about our own egotism and believe in ourselves, we will be better musicians and find more joy in it.  Also, I think there is some important interdisciplinary research that needs to be done between psychologists and musicians at the academic level.  Perhaps I have found my dissertation topic.  

In my future, I hope to be a great teacher.  In this new “Era of Responsibility” I feel a certain obligation to myself, my career, and especially to my students to be the best teacher that I can be.  I hope to instill in them just some of the joy that music and piano have given me.  I hope that I can encourage them to enjoy music with a sense of childlike joy, rather than an arbitrary reverence for the past.  I hope that I never approach my students the way the “maestro” would.  I hope to foster a healthy intellectual curiosity in my students.  I hope to create a teaching environment where my students feel compelled to ask me “why?” 

(…thoughts from music school)

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