"Like horses to water": Reconsidering Gender and Technology

within Music Education Discourses

Kip Pegley

Women and Music: A Journal of Gender and Culture, Volume 10, 2006, pp.
60-70 (Article)

Published by University of Nebraska Press

DOI: https://doi.org/10.1353/wam.2007.0011

For additional information about this article

https://muse.jhu.edu/article/209967

Access provided by Queen's University Library (23 Jul 2017 03:38 GMT)
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Reconsidering Gender and Technology
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22T within Music Education Discourses
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25T Kip Pegley
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28T he music programs many of us re- the boys—so highly suspect around digital
29 member from our childhoods simply no technologies?
30 longer exist: some have been cut back Through two case studies of technology-driv-
31 beyond recognition, while others have been re- en Ontario intermediate schools outside Toronto
32 shaped by new technologies, including musical I would like to explore further reasons for this
33 instrument digital interface (midi), computers, gender-technology split within music education
34 sequencers, and drum machines. Implementing classrooms. I was part of two research teams
35 technology in music classrooms to the exclusion from the York University Centre for the Study
36 of all other musical interactions—including bands of Computers in Education that studied two
37 and choirs—is problematic for a plethora of rea- technology-driven schools from 1991 to 1993.
38 sons, and not all students are pleased with this The first school, which I will call “School A,”
39 trajectory. One voice of discontent comes from was first to be designated a center for innova-
40 an unlikely source: young girls who excel at tion by the educational foundation of a major
41 using the technology but are reluctant to em- computer company. The children who attended
42 brace it wholeheartedly. If these girls understand this school largely were from upper-middle-class
43 how to use the equipment and engage with it families and predominantly of Anglo-Saxon lin-
44 so that it expedites their compositional process eage. Although these demographics were rep-
45 and allows them quick access to sophisticated resentative of this southern Ontario town, this
46 musical expressions, why are they so unhappy was not a “typical” suburban school: in 1988
47 with it? And why are the girls—rather than the classrooms were restructured into technol-
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ogy-driven configurations, and an influx of com-
puters initially brought the schoolwide student
per computer ratio to approximately 12 to 1.
The “computer room” (an area in which all
students spent time every four out of six days)
cited an impressive 1 to 1 ratio. The music room
became the base for a new Technology in Music
Programme (timp) and was furnished with mi-
crocomputers, sequencers, drum machines, and
midi technologies in addition to a sound-edit-
ing and production facility. The choir and the
instrumental music programs were abolished.
The music room itself was reconfigured with
keyboards, recording equipment, midi wind in-
struments, and computers.
The second research study conducted in 1992
and 1993 was in a school geographically close
to School A. There was approximately one
microcomputer for every three students in
“School B.” Seventh-grade students were ob-
served as their abilities on and attitudes to the
technologies were assessed. Here we were par-
ticularly interested in how computers can help
facilitate the creative arts.
While these studies were conducted over a
decade ago, it is useful to go back and look at
the justification, predictions, and challenges sur-
rounding this technology. It was a unique op-
portunity because it was a fully funded project
with high expectations: a model for the rest of
Canada.
By returning to these data I will explore
specific reasons for these girls’ concerns, con-
cerns that were articulated more than a decade
ago and sadly are just as relevant today. Rather
than interpret their responses as stereotypically
gendered anxieties around technology (females
simply aren’t as capable in this sphere as males),
I will explain their critiques as less related to
what might be gained through the use of tech-
1. Larry Cuban, Teachers and Machines: The Classroom
Use of Technology since 1920 (New York: Teachers College
Press, 1986), 9, cited in Rena Upitis, “Spheres of Influence:
The Interplay between Music Research, Technology,
Heritage, and Music Education,” International Journal of
Music Education 37 (2001): 44–58, 48.
2. Upitis, “Spheres of Influence,” 48.
Pegley, Gender and Technology within Music Education
nology but, more important, to what might be
left behind.
What the Girls Are up Against:
Enthusiastic Attitudes toward Technology
The sometimes naive belief that computers equal
progress and are inevitable in the classroom is
now commonplace. What is striking is the ex-
tent to which these assumptions resemble narra-
tives surrounding earlier technologies. Take the
role of film in the classroom: as early as 1922
Thomas Edison predicted that the motion pic-
ture was destined to revolutionize schools and
that within a few years it would largely if not
entirely replace the use of textbooks.1 As Rena
Upitis suggests, if you replace “motion pictures”
with “computer technology,” the parallels are
clearly evident.2 But are computers destined to
revolutionize today’s educational system? Are
they as useful as we believe or, more important,
want to believe? Todd Oppenheimer, in a 1997
article for the Atlantic Monthly, critiqued this
overarching technological narrative, stating:
“There is no good evidence that most uses of
computers significantly improve teaching and
learning, yet school districts are cutting pro-
grammes—music, art, physical education—that
enrich children’s lives to make room for this
dubious nostrum.”3 Indeed, study after study
suggests that there is little evidence for signifi-
cant improvement through the use of comput-
ers, despite beliefs to the contrary. Nonetheless,
researchers have suggested that government pol-
icies, supported by the private sector, should be
established to ensure stable and long-term fund-
ing for computer networks.
Technology and the Music Education Literature
Within music education literature support for
new technologies has been tremendous: midi
3. Todd Oppenheimer, Atlantic Monthly, cited in Rena
Upitis, “Impact of the Communications Revolution on
Education: Possibilities for the Coming Millennium
through an Artist’s Eye,” in The Communications
Revolution at Work: The Social, Economic and Political
Impacts of Technological Change, ed. Robert Boyce
(Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 1997), 154.
61
1 technology is often cited as a way of stream- is that technology can remove many of the ob-
2 lining the musical process, making produc- stacles associated with the development of tra-
3 tion easier and more accessible for students. ditional musical skills, especially in the area of
4 Rosemary Reininger believes that midi technol- embouchure and timbre quality. No longer do
5 ogies remove the difficulty of composing with students need to spend long, laborious hours
6 pencil and paper, facilitate composition, and in practice rooms trying to achieve that “ideal”
7 enable all students to be creative and imagina- timbre: an important part of the struggle clearly
8 tive music makers.4 Such advantages of techno- is diminished.
9 logical accessibility have been cited within the
10 literature as a powerful new educational model. Gender: The Unequal Playing Field
11 In an article for Teaching Music, for instance, What all of this literature identifies are the ad-
12 Christine Stinson documented an instrumental vantages of technology for a homogeneous stu-
13 music teacher in Rome, New York, who teaches dent body. It is well documented, however, that
14 piano classes. She describes these as “an elec- technology is utilized differently by students
15 tive, pull-out class like flute, clarinet, and other and that girls tend to lack enthusiasm toward
16 band instrument classes he teaches . . . [with] 50 new technologies. Much has been written on
17 portable keyboards. . . . He’s quick to say that girls’ apathy and need not be reiterated here.8 A
18 he cannot accomplish the same level as private few often cited reasons for their lack of interest
19 lessons can but he has created, in his words, ‘an include the highly essentialist and problematic
20 army of piano students’ in the town.”5 While statement that girls are not as interested in learn-
21 musical accessibility is obviously apparent in ing how to use computers as boys; computers
22T this narrative, the obvious drawbacks—includ- and information technology is a more mascu-
23 ing instrument homogeneity, to name but one linized terrain; boys still have greater access to
24 issue—are not thoroughly problematized. computers and other technologies than girls;
25T The second theme that emerges within the girls who become interested in technologies at
26 literature is technology’s ability to streamline competitive levels are more marginalized by
27 the “drill and practice” routine. Reininger has other girls; and, finally, because boys are more
28T pointed to the advantages of technology in this avid video game players than girls, they have a
29 realm.6 Indeed, John Deal and Jack Taylor re- technological advantage.9
30 port that in a survey of ten higher institutions Sherry Turkle has studied women’s relation-
31 the most common use of computer-based in- ship with technology and argues that women’s
32 struction programs is to provide drill and prac-
33 tice in aural skills.7 The final theme to emerge
34 9. Irene T. Miura, “Gender and Socioeconomic Status
35 Differences in Middle-School Computer Interest and Use,”
4. Rosemary D. Reininger, “Music Education in a Digital Journal of Early Adolescence 7, no. 2 (1987): 243–54, cit-
36
World,” Teaching Music 8, no. 1 (2000): 24–32, 26. ed in Chris Comber, David J. Hargreaves, and Ann Colley,
37 5. Christine Stinson, “Technology-Rich Teaching,” “Girls, Boys and Technology in Music Education,” British
38 Teaching Music 5, no. 2 (1997): 30–32, 32. Journal of Music Education 10 (1993): 123–34, 125;
6. Reininger, “Music Education in a Digital World,” 27. Gita Wilder, Diane Mackie, and Joel Cooper, “Gender
39
7. John J. Deal and Jack A. Taylor, “Technology Standards and Computers: Two Surveys of Computer-Related
40 for College Music Degrees,” Music Educator’s Journal Attitudes,” Sex Roles 13 (1985): 215–28, cited in Comber,
41 (July 1997): 17–23, 19. Hargreaves, and Colley, “Girls, Boys and Technology”; K.
8. See, for instance, C. A. Bowers, The Cultural Olney, paper presented at the Grace Hopper Celebration
42
Dimensions of Educational Computing: Understanding of Women in Computing, San Jose, California, 1997, cited
43 the Non-Neutrality of Technology (New York: Teachers in Upitis, “Impact of the Communications Revolution,”
44 College Press, 1988). For an overview see Betty Collis, 158. While more males play video games, more females
“Adolescent Females and Computers: Real and Perceived are engaging in on-line chat rooms; this increase in chat
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Barriers,” in Women and Education, ed. Gaskell and room participation is perhaps to be expected because it
46 Arlene McLaren (Calgary: Detselig Enterprises Limited, encourages relational connectivity rather than competitive
47 1991), 147–61. activity.
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technological socialization is a complex one.
Historically, according to Turkle, women have
been viewed as phobic of machines and/or lack-
ing in ability. More accurately, she argues, the
“problems” do not lie with women but with
computer culture: its traditions of competition
and violence are simply unappealing for wom-
en. A number of factors make this subculture
particularly uninviting: first, during adolescence
computers become a sort of “safe” relationship
for the (usually male) enthusiast; it becomes a
“partner” without any possibility of rejection or
actual human intimacy. Women, however, are
less likely to insulate themselves to such formal
systems and artificial worlds to escape societal
anxieties. Second, within computer subcultures
hacking is associated with a severe sense of risk
taking. Hackers talk about living “on the edge,”
of pushing their bodies and minds beyond what
even they thought possible. Taking risks, as
Turkle points out, is something girls find diffi-
cult because the socialization of young women
to be “good students” necessitates a certain sta-
bility and predictability rather than uncertainty.
Third, because the computer is the interface
between the programmer and a formal system,
it is susceptible to anthropomorphism. Turkle
states: “Being a woman is opposed to a compel-
ling relationship with a thing that shuts people
out.” Turkle does not advocate here that what
is needed is more women working with com-
puters. Instead, she questions whether women’s
vehemence will shift when they can “experience
it as material which allows highly differentiated
styles of mastery and personalizes the world of
formal systems for men and women alike.”10
In music studies the gendered response to
technology has been very pronounced. Colley,
Comber, and Hargreaves describe the “difficul-
ties and anxieties” that girls experience with
new technology, in sharp contrast to the boys’
10. Sherry Turkle, “Computational Reticence: Why
Women Fear the Intimate Machine,” in Technology and
Women’s Voices: Keeping in Touch, ed. Cheris Kramarae
(New York: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1988), 41, 44,
49, 50, 59.
Pegley, Gender and Technology within Music Education
experience. As a result, the authors conclude
that “for many girls, the technology introduces
a new complexity into music education which
they find difficult or disconcerting. With boys,
precisely the opposite seems to be true: on the
whole, it provides a means of simplifying a com-
plex and sometimes over-formalized process.”11
According to this research, then, boys like tech-
nology because it simplifies and condenses the
process, and girls don’t like it because it is dif-
ficult. But is it possible that girls don’t like it
precisely because it simplifies and condenses the
process?
Comber, Hargreaves, and Colley have docu-
mented teachers’ comments that reinforce this
perception that boys are the “natural” users of
technology. As one teacher phrased it: “With
boys, you don’t have to introduce them to the
equipment, they will do it quite naturally.” The
authors state that “the technology represented
for the boys a faster means of writing and per-
forming music.” One student stated: “It takes
the work out of actually scoring a piece and re-
cording it.”12 Teachers reported that despite—or
perhaps because of—boys’ confidence, they are
more inclined to use the technology as an end in
itself or simply to play around with it. Girls did
not fare so well. Another teacher commented:
“Whereas the boys will automatically use the
equipment, you have to lead the girls to it like
horses to water.” Girls were simply described
as less enthusiastic and less confident using the
equipment; they were described as “circum-
spect,” “[holding] back,” and “purposeful.”13
This lack of enthusiasm, it should be noted, is
not related to music classes themselves but to the
technology: traditionally, more girls than boys
play musical instruments in school, and they are
generally more enthusiastic within the music ed-
11. Ann Colley, Chris Comber, and David Hargreaves, “it
and Music Education: What Happens to Boys and Girls in
Coeducational and Single Sex Schools?” British Journal of
Music Education 14, no. 2 (1997): 119–27, 130.
12. Comber, Hargreaves, and Colley, “Girls, Boys and
Technology,” 130, 125.
13. Colley, Comber, and Hargreaves, “it and Music
Education,” 132, 125–26.
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table 1:
2
3 Attitudes about Technology in Classrooms
4 Amount of Technology
5 Boys Enough Not Enough Too Much
6 (N = 13)
7 13 boys 6 5 2
8 Girls
9 (N = 16) 10 0 6
10
11
ucation system. Because of this enthusiasm girls es to the technology? Questionnaires adminis-
12
have at least partially navigated through the tered at School B provide informative results
13
technology: many girls perceive keyboards as regarding students’ attitudes toward computers
14
a musical instruments and thus have embraced in the classroom (see table 1). While the major-
15
them more readily than other instruments.14 ity of students felt that there was enough tech-
16
There has been a more positive attitude among nology, there was clearly a difference between
17
younger girls than among older girls toward the genders. More than one third of the boys
18
technology. One explanation for this is that wanted more technology (as opposed to none of
19 the girls), while more than one third of the girls
music (and singing in particular) is perceived to
20 felt there was too much technology (as opposed
be a more feminized activity and thus is more
21 to only two of the boys).
appealing to girls from the outset, but with the
22T While these gendered responses are not un-
onset of technology and the reduction in singing
23 usual, some of the written statements on the
this confidence dissipates. But why should the
24 girls’ attitudes in the classroom may help ex-
introduction of technology dampen girls’ enthu-
25T plain these responses. The following are four re-
siasm? Is it because of a fear of technology, or is
26 sponses from a group of articulate and academi-
it something else?
27 cally successful grade seven girls:
28T
Gender and the Technology in Music Programme
29 1. “I think computers should be banned.
I now turn to the timp as a case study for explor-
30 What happened to the old-fashioned
ing these questions. In the pilot proposal many
31 brain? People will have no imagination,
of the assumptions, attitudes, and advantages of
32 and everything will be boring.”
technology are outlined; in particular, the possi-
33 2. “I don’t like computers, and I think it’s
bilities of technology to compress time and effort
34 sad that these little kids are learning so
are foregrounded. According to the document,
35 much about computers at such a young
“Students can have instant success. There is no
36 age.”
time required for building an embouchure—stu-
37 3. “I am happy I am moving because I don’t
dents are spared the more uncreative aspects
38 like computers!!”
of learning to play a wind instrument and can
39 4. “I think that we need to learn things by our-
begin to create original music almost immedi-
40 selves rather than letting the computers do
ately.”15 Here the narrative of saving time, cited
41 things for us. And I think that the school
earlier, is clearly evident.
42 should be teaching us more important
How did the students articulate their respons-
43 things like geography, history, etc. rather
44 than teaching us about computers.”
45 14. Comber, Hargreaves, and Colley, “Girls, Boys and
Technology,” 123, 129.
46 15. Brian Alger, “Electronic Instrumental Music Pilot
While these responses are extremely valid, it is
47 Project: Draft Copy,” Halton Board of Education, 1989, 5. possible to see how computer enthusiasts could
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read them as naive, arguing that indeed it is pos-
sible to be imaginative at the computer once you
get over your fear, or that the school is teaching
you about history and geography but in a far
more efficient manner. Once again, it is easy for
the girls to be silenced.
The Complaining Girls: An Alternative Reading
Having established plausible explanations for
the girls’ frustrations, I would now like to ex-
plore another reading of the girls’ less-than-en-
thusiastic responses. To this end I will introduce
a fifth comment made by one of the girls in the
study that was for me the most poignant mo-
ment from my two-year fieldwork experience.
One day at School B I was observing students
editing their short stories with remarkable
speed, correcting awkward grammar and shap-
ing imagery, when a group of highly articulate
girls approached me to speak their minds on the
detriments of technology. One girl lamented that
because most of their schoolwork was typed she
did not have a clear sense of her handwriting
style. As she stated: “I don’t even know what my
handwriting looks like.” Rather than develop
their handwriting skills students were encour-
aged to choose fonts that they felt would most
closely approximate the shape of their imagined
styles. (Girls chose more “elegant” fonts with
much consistency, while boys opted for heavy,
blocklike script.) This student’s negative feelings
undoubtedly were heightened because her moth-
er told her stories of practicing her handwriting
as a child, imitating others, then developing her
own style until she got it “just right.” This girl
and her three friends (all exceptional students)
felt robbed of the opportunity to develop what
they considered to be an important identity
marker. Instead, they could become identified
with Edwardian Script one day and Curlz the
next. They felt their handwriting lacked consis-
tency and permanence. This is less a resistance
to embracing technology than a desire to hold
on to an identity marker from the past. The pen
or pencil in this instance becomes a parallel to
what Paul Théberge calls “vintage” instruments
(piano, violin) that serve to “give the player a
Pegley, Gender and Technology within Music Education
form of direct sonic (and sometimes iconic) ac-
cess to the past.”16 Using these pen and pencil
“instruments,” then, strengthens students’ con-
nection to their cultural lineage, tradition, and
memory, which cross-culturally and historically
has been deemed one of women’s important so-
cial tasks.17 What these girls articulated was a
frustration that they could not engage in the ef-
fort and practice necessary to develop a distinct
handwriting style: the technology had eradicated
such “monotonous” repetition.
Some of these frustrations also were evidenced
in School A’s music program. As mentioned
previously, the music area was divided into six
centers that focused on literacy, sequencing,
composing, midi wind performance, recording,
and integrated arts performance. The physi-
cal space was divided into four areas: the main
open-concept room housed the sequencing,
composition, and midi Wind centres while the
literacy, integrated arts, and recording centers
each were self-contained and attached to the
main room through doors. The sequencing, re-
cording, and integrated arts centers involved the
most interaction between the students. At the
sequencing centre in the main room, students
worked at a clustered arrangement of comput-
ers where they were encouraged to play alone or
in groups of two or three. The primary activities
here included song writing, sequencing, assem-
bling, editing, and improvising on the keyboard.
A headphone network at the sequencing center
system helped facilitate group work. At the re-
cording center each student performed a specific
function (producer, director, etc.) so that a col-
laborative environment would be established.
Here students made final decisions on their
projects, recorded their work on a mixer, and
produced a tape. Finally, they entered the inte-
16. Paul Théberge, Any Sound You Can Imagine: Making
Music/Consuming Technology (Hanover nh: University
Press of New England and Wesleyan University Press,
1997), 120.
17. For a discussion of this pattern within the context of
the Cuna see Michael Taussig, Mimesis and Alterity: A
Particular History of the Senses (New York: Routledge,
1993), 153–55. Thanks to Jody Berland for bringing this
work to my attention.
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table 2:
2
Ratings of Individual Centers by Boys and Girls
3
4 Boys Girls
5 Center: Rating* Center: Rating
6 composition 2.3 recording 1.8
7 sequencing 2.5 integrated arts 3.1
8 recording 2.6 sequencing 3.3
9 integrated arts 3.9 composition 3.4
10 midi wind 4.1 literacy 4.5
11 literacy 5.7 midi wind 4.8
12 * Rating is out of 6 where 1 is the most preferred.
13
14
15 grated arts center, where they worked together explanations for why each group felt empow-
16 to integrate their music with movement, dance, ered at some centers and not at others, including
17 mime, and drama. As one student reported: “[At attitudes toward technology, differences in girls’
18 the integrated arts center] I learned how to put and boys’ familiarity with computers, and inter-
19 movement to music and express myself.” At the personal styles.
20 other end of this co-operative continuum and in It is significant that the recording station was
21 the main music room was the composition cen- separated from the other work areas and that
22T ter, where the computer arrangement separated this is where girls enjoyed working together and
23 the students by having them sit side by side and performing unique tasks. As I have written else-
24 focus on their own projects. Ensemble work where, because this space was not visible, some
25T was encouraged at the composition center at the students responded to it as a reflexive locality
26 ends of sessions, when students were invited to and engaged in an interactive style familiar to
27 share their individual projects. them from other settings more so than they did
28T How did the boys and girls respond to these at other openly visible centers.18 In other words,
29 different centers? A questionnaire was adminis- if girls were more comfortable working cooper-
30 tered in which the students ranked the centers atively in groups, then this is where they had the
31 from most favorite (1) to least favorite (6). Table opportunity to do so and usually did. In more
32 2 provides a breakdown of the responses. visible areas students tended to adopt styles they
33 The center most preferred by boys was the perceived to be preferred by the teacher. A sec-
34 composition center, followed by the sequenc- ond reason for their preference for this center
35 ing and recording centers. Most girls identified was that at it they had an opportunity to make
36 the recording center as their favorite location, their work concrete, to record it, to have a docu-
37 followed by the integrated arts, sequencing, ment that represented their work. In a school
38 and composition centers. The literacy and midi where papers were easily replaceable and dis-
39 wind centers, which focused on musicianship posable, this was an important place for them to
40 and music appreciation, were ranked as the least make something permanent.
41 favorite centers by both groups. At first glance, That all students struggled so much with
42 the findings in table 2 seem to suggest that the the midi wind station is telling. Here the stu-
43 girls preferred the centers that involved less ma-
44 nipulation of computer software and more per- 18. Karen Pegley, “Gender, Voice and Place: Issues of
45 sonal interaction, whereas the boys enjoyed the Negotiation in a Technology in Music Programme,” in
Music and Gender, ed. Beverley Diamond and Pirkko
46 more technologically based centers that featured Moisala, British Journal of Music Education (2000):
47 individual activities. There are various possible 306–16.
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dents played four instruments and faced inward
around a round table. In the center of the table
was a control panel, and the sounds of the in-
struments could be changed with the flip of a
switch from string quartet to bagpipe quartet
to tuba ensemble. The changeability of these in-
struments was part of the administrator’s initial
attraction to them: no more did students have
to practice trumpet for hours, months, years in
order to produce a pleasing sound. midi winds
are as accessible as blowing into a recorder and
can produce an enormous range of digitized tim-
bres with minimal effort. Why, then, was this
station so unappealing? With so many options
and without the struggle of creating an embou-
chure, why was this station so unpopular? One
explanation was that it lacked the structure and
goals necessary to make it a meaningful expe-
rience. A second explanation is the technology
itself: while developers thought that being able
to quickly learn to play an instrument would
be appealing and facilitate creativity, students
perhaps sought what they missed most: the chal-
lenge and rewards of struggle.
The Undervalued Rewards of Music:
Struggle and Repetition
It is the issue of struggle downplayed within
the music technology discourses that is in fact
necessary for meaningful experiences. Herbert
Benson and William Proctor have outlined this
exact process of optimizing performance: ac-
cording to these authors, the creative process is
characterized by three steps: struggle, release,
and finally a breakthrough, resulting in a “new
normal.”19 The initial struggle is the practice
(for scholars the struggle lies in the research and
thinking through the ideas, for marathon run-
ners, the physical and mental preparation). Two
events happen in the struggle phase: the release
of stress hormones, which increase our heart rate
and give us an “edge,” and increased brain ac-
tivity. The second stage actually involves halting
the struggle, for while at first the stress improves
19. Herbert Benson and William Proctor, The Breakout
Principle (New York: Simon and Schuster, 2003).
Meyer-Frazier, Prescriptions for an Ideal Life
creativity, it eventually impairs it. The last phase
involves relinquishing control, knowing you
have done all you can and doing something else.
This, according to the authors, triggers a chemi-
cal release: once the stress hormones are shut
off, positive neurotransmitters like endorphins
enter and smooth the trouble parts. Then some-
thing happens. What is perhaps most important
for the present work is the first stage: in order
for creativity to occur there must be a struggle, a
literal bodily change, even if it seems impercep-
tible to the individual.
If a creative breakthrough at the midi wind
station requires struggle, a working through of a
problem, then choosing one of the timbres, play-
ing an idea, and making it somehow better (how-
ever that is defined) would be desirable. What
this likely would entail is practice, or repetition.
This repetition, however, is precisely what the
previously cited author seemed most to want to
avoid when developing an embouchure by pass-
ing the needless expenditure of time and, related
to this, the frustration of unvaried repetition.
This raises questions about how we define rep-
etition and how we can differentiate useful from
meaningless repetition. Certainly for technology
enthusiasts many aspects of repetition are unde-
sirable. I question whether we need to rethink
our notions of repetition, however, and see rep-
etitions as not merely “more of the same” but
of how they can lead us through a struggle to
deeper meanings.
The value of repetition within Western art
music and popular music alike recently has been
explored within musicological and theoreti-
cal studies. Anne Danielsen argues that within
many African American cultural expressions,
for instance, an important aesthetic drive is
to repeat with a difference. . . . [E]very repeti-
tion is different . . . [and] . . . the focus is on dif-
ference—not difference in itself but difference
stepping forward in relation to the same. . . .
[R]epetition in a groove is a sort of microlevel
signifyin(g): it is repetition and revision in one
and the same maneuver. The aim is twofold. On
the one hand, it is important that the same is re-
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1 peated every time: the same should be recognized nist, facilitating their preparation for competi-
2 or categorized as such. On the other hand, it is tions.23 While this software has obvious benefits,
3 equally important that this same is different.20 using it as a replacement for live accompanists
4 risks the loss of meaningful experiences. As
5 Similarly, Lorenzo Simpson reminds us that we Simpson argues: “Technology’s will to contract
6 should not see repetition as abandoning itself time . . . threatens to marginalize those practices
7 wholly to the past. Instead, repetition should be that made a meaningful difference, practices
8 viewed as “a new application of already existing that we engage in for what they are, for what
9 possibilities, a unique appropriation of tradition they tell us about ourselves, and for what they
10 . . . at once the time of both preservation and make of us, rather than for what they achieve.
11 invention.” It is here that we can develop our . . . The temporality of repetition . . . is claimed
12 attitude toward time not as something to be sup- to restore connectedness and coherence, thus
13 pressed but as the realm of possibilities where enabling meaningfulness and a unified sense of
14 repetition can be conceived of as an opportu- self.”24 Simpson identifies connectedness to both
15 nity to produce meaningful events, especially of oneself and others as the ultimate goal.
16 self-knowledge. In other words, repetition does
17 not have to annihilate or even domesticate time An Argument for Meaningful Relationships
18 but rather can come to terms with it; it is less What kinds of relationships are we advocating
19 advancing beyond as it is digging deeper. This here? First, I posit that we should reinvest in the
20 is what Simpson calls the realm of the “mean- individual’s connection with an instrument. In
21 ingful.” At the opposite end of this continuum the age of technological obsolescence musical
22T is what Simpson calls the “values-perspective.” instruments allow us the opportunity to devel-
23 The values-perspective is inherent in much of op a relationship with a unique and temporally
24 the technology discourse: the function is to con- situated object. This could certainly be a digital
25T tract time and to accentuate the end possibilities. instrument, but this goes against the narrative of
26 Technology here facilitates a “domestication” of technological newness: digital technologies are
27 time, a reduction of time to compartmentalized typically outdated within months or years rather
28T units that only serve future goals.21 This is evi- than decades or centuries. Second, we talk about
29 denced in the timp, where the objectives from developing a relationship with an instrument,
30 the outset included “to create an environment but what about with a particular timbre? What
31 that is both individualized and product oriented about the repetition with one sound and how
32 so that students . . . [can] . . . develop a sense of it can change? Students are constantly changing
33 pride and accomplishment in their creative en- sounds, with not enough time to go into one or
34 deavors.”22 The emphasis on product-oriented explore how to change the same sound. After
35 work is clear here. all, what about the importance of the sounds of
36 The importance of the final goal also is clearly particular timbres? Of a mother’s voice before a
37 evidenced in the technology and music education child is born? Of one’s best friend? Of a father’s
38 literature. For instance, Reininger notes that ac- voice after it is gone? What are our ongoing re-
39 companiment software now enables students lationships with particular timbres long after we
40 to practice solo parts and improvisation skills hear them for the last time?
41 without the need for an orchestra or accompa- A third critical relationship to be developed
42 is with oneself. To explore how a music pro-
43 20. Anne Danielsen, Presence and Pleasure: The Funk gram could contribute to this relationship I
44 Grooves of James Brown and Parliament (Middletown:
Wesleyan University Press, 2006).
45 21. Lorenzo C. Simpson, Technology, Time and the 22. Alger, “Electronic Instrumental Music,” 2.
46 Conversations of Modernity (New York: Routledge, 23. Reininger, “Music Education in a Digital World,” 27.
47 1995), 57, 58, 4. 24. Simpson, Technology, 10.
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borrow from Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi’s book
Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience.
Csikszentmihalyi argues that the normal state
of consciousness is entropy: wandering, cha-
otic, and far from pleasurable. (One needs to
meditate for only a few minutes to appreciate
the extraordinary restlessness of one’s mind.) To
avoid this inner chaos humans seek out ways to
order consciousness, most often through rela-
tionships, television, work, or hobbies. But not
all activities based around these external stimuli
are fulfilling or enjoyable, in part because they
do not contain the conditions necessary to create
“optimal flow.” Csikszentmihalyi defines “flow”
as “the way people describe their state of mind
when consciousness is harmoniously ordered,
and they want to pursue whatever they are do-
ing for its own sake.”25 These conditions in-
clude, at the very basic level, challenges, viable
goals, feedback on progress, and enough psychic
attention to forget all other distractions. The
type of activity is irrelevant: if the individual has
clear, challenging goals, feels she or he can real-
ize those goals, and devotes all of his or her psy-
chic energy to that project, a sense of flow can
be achieved playing pool or writing an article.
Losing track of time, forgetting to eat, or not
getting tired—even when one “should” be—are
all indicators of flow. This is not to suggest that
all flow experiences are experienced positively in
the moment: the feeling of pushing one’s body at
the end of a marathon might not be described as
“enjoyable,” yet many runners, after the com-
petition ends, wish to return to those grueling
few miles because they recall their feeling as they
crossed the finish line as powerful and fulfilling.
Csikszentmihalyi identifies these flow experi-
ences as producing “enjoyment,” or a sense of ac-
complishment that results in individual growth,
depth, and development. (This is a paradox, for
in this state of flow the individual loses a sense
of self but leaves the experience a stronger and
25. Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, Flow: The Psychology
of Optimal Experience (New York: Harper and Row,
1990), 6.
26. Simpson, Technology, 11.
Meyer-Frazier, Prescriptions for an Ideal Life
more defined person.) “Enjoyment” here needs
to be differentiated from “pleasure,” which can
be gained without any psychic energy and from
which the sense of self does not necessarily de-
velop. Watching hours of commercial television
can create a sense of pleasure but usually does
not require enough psychic energy to be con-
sidered “enjoyment.” (I would also argue that
much commercial television is designed to be a
“pleasurable” distraction, a buffer from the cha-
os of consciousness, but it is not so challenging
as to be “enjoyable,” for that would risk losing
the viewer to activities that would not involve a
television set.)
Increasing depth—both internally and exter-
nally—is clearly one of the primary benefits of
music education. In the postmodern age, when
youth are deluged with surface images and are
moved through different performers at a stag-
gering rate, we question how youth will learn
the value of depth. (Musical depth is certainly
not modeled on popular shows like Canadian
Idol or American Idol, on which idol hopefuls
sing partial songs over prerecorded accompani-
ments. Here, surface images are celebrated and
rewarded.) Paramount in the postmodern atti-
tude are quick attachment and equally quick de-
tachment, as Simpson points out.26 This speaks
to larger challenges, namely, how to encourage
students to move deeper through material rather
than work at just the surface level. In my field
notes from School B I noted a strong sense of
detachment. At the end of a several-weeks-long
project I wrote in my notes: “It was difficult to
get printouts of their work. Students seemed dis-
interested generally, and there was increasing re-
sistance towards my involvement in their work.
They seemed to resent having to improve or even
contemplate how they could improve their work
once it was completed.” The lack of interest was
informative: students felt rushed to move on to
the next project. Most success happened with
those who came at lunch and worked on proj-
ects over time in smaller groups, building upon
their work week after week. There was consid-
erably more ownership with this material and
more identification with it. Indeed, one of the
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1 most productive events that I witnessed in the interview with fourteen musicians in London
2 music classroom in School A involved a group Lucy Green explored how students were able to
3 of girls playing a pop song on five synthesizers. acquire skills and why they were so motivated to
4 This lunch-hour rehearsal went on for weeks, learn.27 Green found that the students learned by
5 and the progress and ownership were tremen- playing popular music with their peers, watch-
6 dous. This is, I suspect, what we want from all ing others perform, copying recordings by ear,
7 our students. and (willingly) practicing much more than a
8 “typical” band student (on average five or six
9 Ultimately, I am struck by the incongruency be- hours a day during the early stages). These rich
10 tween what was reported in the education lit- experiences differed considerably from those
11 erature and what these articulate girls reported found in typical school music classrooms, and as
12 at both schools. Much research has pointed to a result Green suggests that we should incorpo-
13 reasons for girls’ dissatisfaction; in the present rate more popular music within our curriculum
14 study the qualitative responses from this hand- overall. Katharine Smithram and Rena Upitis,
15 ful of girls illuminated possible technological following Green, use stronger wording, sug-
16 pitfalls, especially the lack of repetition that is gesting that “unless we find a way to link out-
17 foregrounded in some technology-driven pro- of-school activities with schooling, we will fail
18 grams and the imperative for compressing time to enrich students’ musical lives to the degree
19 required for a task and the emphasis on product- that is possible—or . . . ethically accountable.”28
20 based work. By not having the opportunity to sit This means incorporating music from students’
21 at a table and practice handwriting with their everyday lives into the curriculum.
22T mothers the girls felt the lack of a meaningful How to balance musical repertoires—art mu-
23 life activity and the loss of an important identity sic, popular music, folk music, non-Western mu-
24 marker. After exploring the changes implement- sic—and how to facilitate creative repetition is
25T ed to the music room, I would argue that this difficult to answer. A successful program for the
26 loss might be only the tip of the iceberg. twenty-first century will involve incorporating
27 As researchers we must now take this infor- types of music that are less familiar with those
28T mation and reconsider whether or not—or to many of us were taught as children, all within the
29 what extent—we want technology to compress rubric of current technologies. Upitis argues that
30 time and, by extension, the opportunity for ultimately “we must frame innovation in light
31 meaning in music classes. Whereas the literature of preservation of the music heritage that forms
32 focuses on how to get students on the stage for such a large part of our human identity.”29 What
33 an actual event, I argue alongside the girls for music education will look like in twenty years is
34 what happens on either side of this moment, for unclear. But I am convinced that if we are to be
35 the creative struggle that happens before as well effective educators, responsible to the needs of
36 as the aftermath, the attachment to an event or students under the constant pressure of techno-
37 experience that must be present for a meaningful logical change, we must listen more closely to
38 event to ever have happened. the girls.
39 So how do we proceed? I am not suggesting
40 that we continue as we have been, for, as many of
27. Lucy Green, How Popular Musicians Learn: A Way
41 us know, the classroom musical experience has Ahead for Music Education (Burlington vt: Ashgate
42 not consistently produced meaningful moments. Press, 2002).
43 The search for successful models of repetition, 28. Katharine Smithram and Rena Upitis, “Contaminated
by Peaceful Feelings: The Power of Music,” Canadian
44 struggle, and meaningful experiences, I believe, Music Educator (Spring 2003): 12–17, 16.
45 takes us into the realm of popular music. In an 29. Upitis, “Spheres of Influence,” 50.
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