Yoga and Calisthenics

Practicing yoga and performing calisthenics are two different ways of approaching physical exercise, and thinking about their differences can offer some insights into the therapeutic and educational ways of teaching music.

The first sentence of the Wikipedia entry on yoga reads:

Yoga is a commonly known generic term for the physical, mental, and spiritual practices or disciplines which originated in ancient India with a view to attain a state of permanent peace.

The Wikipedia entry for calisthenics begins with:

Calisthenics are a form of exercise consisting of a variety of simple, often rhythmical, movements, generally without using equipment or apparatus. They are intended to increase body strength and flexibility with movements such as bending, jumping, swinging, twisting or kicking, using only one's body weight for resistance. . . . Calisthenics when performed vigorously and with variety can benefit both muscular and cardiovascular fitness, in addition to improving psychomotor skills such as balance, agility and coordination.

Groups such as sports teams and military units often perform leader-directed group calisthenics as a form of synchronized physical training (often including a customized "call and response" routine) to increase group cohesion and discipline.

While yoga is seen and taught as a combination of the physical, the mental and the spiritual, calisthenics is mostly physical, with the addition of group cohesion as a goal. 

In the yoga classes I took back in the 70's, the idea was that the teacher was training us to be more aware of our bodies and to move through the poses in ways that suited us individually, and to always be mindful, centered and grounded.

In calisthenics, moving just like others with the same timing and motions is much more important.

In teaching music as a music therapist, what works and doesn't work for any particular client is always of paramount importance. In yoga different people doing different poses can look very different, especially for beginners, and that's OK. In music therapy what's important is that the clients feel the joys of music making, become engaged in the activity, and over time are better able to express themselves musically.

It seems to me music educators take more of the calisthenics approach to teaching, for some very good reasons. For one, only students with a skill set that might allow them to succeed are allowed into band, and because of those skills, will probably find on their own what does and doesn't work for them as individuals. For another, group cohesion is of paramount importance in bands (and symphonies), so the subordination of the individual to the group, as personified by the conductor, is the only way to go.

I think this is at least part of the explanation as to why, for the most part, none if the community band conductors we've had over the years has ever talked about tone, other than that tired old joke when someone plays when they shouldn't that, "At least it had good tone quality!"

For me as a music therapist, from the get go with any client I'm always including the importance of tone in the conversation. I'll often ask if they've ever come across someone who has wonderfully interesting things to say, but that the sound of their voice is so off-putting it's hard to pay attention, which usually triggers a look of recognition.

Understanding your musical sound as your voice is fundamental to successful musical self-expression. 

I think that music educators don't talk much about it because the skill set their students present with mean they'll probably develop their tone and appreciation of it's importance on their own.

Music, Fiction & Apprehension

A recent post of Kyle Gann's, Literature as a Mirror, along with the extensive comments, is  wonderful conceptual exploration of music and fiction and group think. I've reread it a number of times and have yet to keep all the thoughts it triggers in any kind of tidy bundle. For now just want to bookmark it and paste in my comment.

This is an amazing post and discussion, full of idea boxes to unpack. I am as in agreement with your basic argument as my general unfamiliarity with new music and fiction allow. I’ve been happy to leave *most* of it outside my sphere of interest ever since majoring in English back in ’71 and getting a whiff of what was coming down the line. What you’re calling sophistication has always come across to me more as pretentiousness, and in-crowd validation, once I left academia.

But what’s driving this comment is your phrase, “try to expand my means of apprehension to appreciate what was there”. That’s what your language on this blog, and your music, particularly The Planets, has done for me. It’s a very handy phrase for talking about a dimension of art/music/literature that’s not neccessarily present in entertainment.

It also seems a good phrase for talking about the purpose of Buddhist mind training (and a lot of other spiritual endeavors), which is not meant to be mere routine, but a catalyst.

Really glad you’ve kept on blogging for a while!

Practice and Brain Plasticity

This article talks about the neuroscience of spirituality and I was struck by the similarity to what the neuroscientists are saying about making music, in that multiple areas of the brain are simultaneously involved. 

“We have found a neuropsychological basis for spirituality, but it’s not isolated to one specific area of the brain,” said Brick Johnstone, professor of health psychology in the School of Health Professions. “Spirituality is a much more dynamic concept that uses many parts of the brain. Certain parts of the brain play more predominant roles, but they all work together to facilitate individuals’ spiritual experiences.”

The article goes on to talk about how people who've had trauma to that part of the brain dealing with the "self" tend to have, 

"an increased feeling of closeness to a higher power."Neuropsychology researchers consistently have shown that impairment on the right side of the brain decreases one’s focus on the self,” Johnstone said. “Since our research shows that people with this impairment are more spiritual, this suggests spiritual experiences are associated with a decreased focus on the self. This is consistent with many religious texts that suggest people should concentrate on the well-being of others rather than on themselves.”

Johnstone says the right side of the brain is associated with self-orientation, whereas the left side is associated with how individuals relate to others. Although Johnstone studied people with brain injury, previous studies of Buddhist meditators and Franciscan nuns with normal brain function have shown that people can learn to minimize the functioning of the right side of their brains to increase their spiritual connections during meditation and prayer.

Johnstone makes the comparison to other kinds of disciplines; "It is like playing the piano, the more you train your brain, the more the brain becomes predisposed to piano playing."

The fact that deactivation of some areas of the brain is apparently just as important as activating others for some mental states reminded me of this post talking about what's going on in the brain during improvisation. 

Another point to make, that ties in with the previous post, is that as you practice, all kinds of new connections (and activations and deactivations) are being made in your brain, most of which you're probably not fully conscious of. The more mindful you are of creating positive mental states, and the less you build associations between music making and negative emotions, the more enjoyable your music making will be. It's not just a question of increasing brain plasticity, but the quality and nature of that newly created brain function.

It's also worth noting that that lack of "self" seems to be a part of "flow" and that's probably why many, but not all people, tend to associate the flow experience with spirituality.

Is Music A Quasi-Spiritual Practice?

This article in the Guardian, in a fairly non-specific way, suggests that regular music making might be a substitute for spiritual practice. While I think that there are similarities between music practice and spiritual practice, I don't feel one can stand in for the other.

Both behaviors employ combinations of the Jungian categories of thinking, feeling, intuition and sensation as a way of entering and expressing non-quotidian mental states that are beyond the grasp of words. Music, though, is more a tool that can be used in various ways, depending on one's motivation. The first non-spiritual use of music that comes to mind are the drums, bagpipes, and bugles of war. There are also various trance states that can be induced by music making, which are not necessarily spiritual in the positive sense we usually associate with the word.

As a tool to help deepen and broaden spiritual experiences, I think making music can be at the top of the list. As a therapist, there's nothing I enjoy more than helping people use music in their spiritual practice. Music making can be tremendously rewarding on it's own as well. Suffusing one's brain in dopamine is a positive experience, with or without a framework of spiritual practice.

On down the line the neuroscientists are going to be able to compare and contrast what's going on in the brains of those making music and those pursuing spiritual paths and we'll know better then how to talk about the two. For now it's what works best for an individual that matters. My sense is, though, the benefits of making music are amplified when combined with other behaviors and interests of the music maker, especially those where the music is shared with people in some sort of social context.

Thanks to Jonathan West for finding this article and posting about it here. This post of mine is a first approximation of a response to the deep issues raised in connection to spirituality and music making. I hope in a later post to comment on the emotional aspects of music making Jonathan talks about in his post.

Lama Tashi/Solstice Performance

My friend Lama Tashi performed at the Handshake Concert in Delhi on the solstice. This was the third annual event put on by the delightfully named Rattle and Hum Society, which works to broaden awareness in India of the far Northeast of the country. He's the one on the right in the photo above.

Here's a quote from one of the reviews of the concert (gompa is Tibetan for monastery):

They closed with a worship duet, alternating Angami and English verses, and setting the stage for Grammy nominee Lama Tashi and his ‘singing monks’ to take us to the edge of heaven, syncing chants with languorous drum rolls, soft cymbal clinks and reverbs from Tibetan longhorns. 

An overwhelming peace descended over the audience, as if we were deep within a gompa, in a meditative trance. From the rage of rock to the stillness of spiritual music, quite a transition.

Macedonia

We played down at Macedonia today and it went well. Working on the audio for the CD. I'm extremely fortunate to have such fine players in the group. 

Having Crawford be the minister and play the tuba, along with the country family atmosphere, made everything very smooth and informal, and somehow more spiritual for me than highly organized ritual. 

The covered dish luncheon in the fellowship hall that followed was awfully good as well. Real Virginia cured ham and something I'd not encountered previously - chocolate chip pecan pie. 

More to come on where we are as the Kenwood Players. This post mostly to keep trying to figure out how best to do photos.

Oak Chapel

Yesterday we played at Oak Chapel, a country church over in the Montford neighborhood, an area that has mostly escaped the physical changes coming to the county due to our being less than two hours from Washington D.C. (and 30 minutes from Charlottesville). Montford has been a stable little community for generations, tucked there between Montpelier and the Rapidan river (which was often the boundary line between the Confederates and the Federals).

The weather was on our side. Some time back I noted the sudden hot weather a day we played at the Gordon House sort of dragged down both the players and the audience. Last Friday there were weird ructions in the night due to hurricane Bill's passage off in the Atlantic, and Saturday there were tropical downpours from time to time. Sunday morning was bright and clear and there was that feeling of the community coming out safely after a storm.

The Players were Bill C. on Eb Tuba, Steve on trombone, Bill B. on alto sax, Judy on percussion and me on F horn or guitar and singing. For fifteen minutes before the service, while folks were gathering and greeting, we played old time hymns I've arranged, simply taking them down a few steps, putting them in flat keys, and tweaking the parts so that every one has all four parts in a range that suits their instrument. We then mix and match parts, depending on what's workable with the instruments present. We played each hymn twice, tuba on bass, horn on alto, trombone and sax switching soprano and tenor. The blend and the intonation we got when the alto sax was on top was very good and sometimes we got that terrific sound when you can't tell where one timbre stops and another starts.

I sang "What A  Friend We Have in Jesus" at the beginning of the service, and led the 5-7 year old Sunday Schoolers in "Count Your Blessings" midway through the service, alternating vocals with trombone and sax solos. I arranged these two songs by writing out a bass line for the tubas, the melody line, and then adding the simplest possible two inner voices based on the I, IV and V guitar chords. This style arrangement allows the skilled improvisers to take off running and gives the novice improvisors some easy training wheels that really help fill out the sound. When it works, as it did on both these songs at Oak Chapel, there's a wonderful freshness to the sound that an elaborate arrangement can never have, no matter how faultless the recitation. 

A highlight for me was our playing the Doxology ("Praise God, From Whom All Blessings Flow"), while Judy conducted us and the congregation's singing. The blend of our four instruments, one to a voice, with the singing was a wonderful sound.

We closed with a few more hymns in four parts during the social moments after the service when everyone was getting up and speaking and leaving. Afterwards a number of people came up to say how they had enjoyed the music, and from the looks on their faces, they really had been touched. 

There are lots of aspects to music therapy, but helping people in their spiritual practice has to be one of the most rewarding.

Next week it's on to Macedonia, down in "the lower part of the county" in an area even older and more settled than Montford. Crawford, one of our Eb tubas will be alternating preaching and playing tuba with us. Just like Oak Chapel it's a small structure with lots of wood inside and wonderful acoustics.