Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Creative Minds Biographies


“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”
Howard Thurman

I like to stick to picture books most of the time, but this series of books is just too exciting to not pass along. The Creative Minds Biographies put out by Lerner Publications are aimed at ages 9-12. These slim books with black-and-white illustrations tell the stories of amazing people: artists, writers, musicians, scientists, groundbreakers—dreamers and doers. What a wealth! I’ve read a few of these now, and I think they are very nicely done. But I’ll let the list speak for itself--it's a long one, so here are the arts-related biographies for today:

Bold Composer: A Story About Ludwig Van Beethoven (Creative Minds Biographies)Her Piano Sang: A Story About Clara Schumann (Creative Minds Biographies)Musical Genius: A Story About Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Creative Minds Biographies)Raggin': A Story About Scott Joplin (Carolrhoda Creative Minds Book)Say It With Music: A Story About Irving Berlin (Creative Minds Biographies)Dance of the Swan: A Story About Anna Pavlova (Creative Minds Biographies)Country Artist: A Story About Beatrix Potter (Creative Minds Biography)Tales for Hard Times: A Story About Charles Dickens (Creative Minds Biographies)Eye on the Wild: A Story About Ansel Adams (Creative Minds Biography)Natural Writer: A Story About Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings (Creative Minds Biographies)Beyond Little Women: A Story About Louisa May Alcott (Creative Minds Biographies)Words Of Promise: A Story About James Weldon Johnson (Creative Minds Biographies)Mark T-W-A-I-N!: A Story About Samuel Clemens (Creative Minds Biographies)The Play's the Thing: A Story About William Shakespeare (Creative Minds Biographies)Between Two Worlds: A Story About Pearl Buck (Creative Minds Biographies)Jazz Age Poet: A Story About Langston Hughes (Creative Minds Biographies)Science Fiction Pioneer: A Story About Jules Verne (Creative Minds Biographies)Revolutionary Poet: A Story About Phillis Wheatley (Creative Minds Biographies Series)To the Point: A Story About E.B. White (Carolrhoda Creative Minds Book)America, I Hear You: A Story About George Gershwin (Creative Minds Book)Writer of the Plains: A Story About Willa Cather (Creative Minds Biography)

Oh, the Places He Went: A Story about Dr. Seuss (Creative Minds Biography)
A Fairy-Tale Life: A Story About Hans Christian Andersen (Carolrhoda Creative Minds Book)
Good Morning, Mr President: A Story About Carl Sandburg (Creative Minds)
What Do You Mean? a Story About Noah Webster (Creative Minds)

I'll try to get more titles to you later this week--check back!

Friday, September 24, 2010

My "Big Job"

One of the most valuable things I’ve learned about teaching violin is to try to make each lesson about one main thing. Of course, we may cover a variety of material and techniques, but I’m trying to follow the wise council someone gave me a long time ago that it’s more helpful to send a student away with one big job to work on than an exhaustive list of everything that needs fixing. The idea is that they will be able to focus in on one thing—ideally the thing that will most improve their playing at the moment—and work towards mastery. Other things that need work can be added in when the first issue is resolved. It’s a focused, orderly approach, and, in my opinion, a gentle and effective way of working.

I’m still working on applying this in lessons, and there is definitely room for improvement. But through that process I discovered a “big job” for myself that applies to my teaching, my parenting, and my life in general. That big job? Don’t panic. I hate to admit it, but there it is. I’m seeing more and more that it is a weak spot. When I’m teaching and a student is struggling or hasn’t practiced, I find that I can remain calm and reassuring: This is normal. We’ll just work on this bit by bit. Why don’t we try it this way? We can work through this. But in other aspects of my life, the default narrative in my head is more like this: What are we going to do? How are we going to get this all done? How is this child ever going to get a job/stay out of jail/find a spouse? Are we normal? I’m such a failure/loser/bad mom/dumpy wife/rotten friend! And this shrillness that starts in my head refuses to stay there; it invariably leaks out and makes a lovely mess of things. Oh, if only I could approach everything in my life the way I do in a contained half-hour violin lesson! (But there—do you detect that rising pitch in my voice?)

Approaching problems in real life can be something like approaching problems with violin. Step back, identify the problem, think, break things down, work slowly but steadily, keep positive, repeat, repeat again, and above all don’t panic. I’ve spent many hours doing this in a practice room, and I feel pretty comfortable working through the process with students. But life is messier, and the stakes are bigger, and it has taken me a lot longer to apply the concepts in a broader way. But there—I’ve identified the problem, and it’s time to start plugging away at it. I think I’ve got some ideas about how to start working. Don’t panic.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

"My Kid's No Heifetz"

“My kid’s no Heifetz.” More than one parent has told me this through the years. I’m not sure if that disclaimer is to let me know they don’t have unrealistic expectations of their child, or if they think it’s a reason why their child doesn’t need to practice much, or what. But I’ve never expected anybody to be Yascha Heifetz. I wish I had had the presence of mind to ask those parents, But do you know who your child is going to turn out to be? We as parents can know our kids extremely well, but we have no idea how our children’s stories, much less our own, are going to play out.

I read an inspiring blog post a while back about being in the middle of the story, and it really struck me how bewildering it can be in the middle. As the author of that post points out, that’s where “all the important stuff” happens. But it was a good reminder of the fact that the middle is where all the conflict, all the lack-of-resolution is, too. Have you noticed how books and movies will take you to the absolutely bleakest, darkest, most confusing places before you get to the plot twist/wonderful discovery/resolution/happy ending? Being in the middle of the story is not an easy place. At the “beginning” of my story, somewhere around the time I got out of college, I thought I knew where things were going. And here I am closing in on 40, and it turns out that even though I was right about a few things, there were many other things about which I had no idea. I’ve learned that things change, that I’m in the middle of the telling of my story, and I’m even looking forward (gulp—I think) to the next plot twist.

So to bring this back to our children, we don’t need another Heifetz. Your child is somebody else, entirely, and right at the beginning of his or her story. How do you know how violin lessons will touch his life? How do you know what turns her life will take and how music will play a part? We want so much for our kids, and it seems like it would be so nice to know and understand the trajectory of their lives. But my guess is, whatever you and your child are doing right now, it has something to do with the telling of a life story, and that’s all we get to know from this side of things. My hope for each of my students is that they will listen, work hard, learn, and take joy in what they are doing. Imagine all the stories that are being told in the process.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

10 Bits of Magic

Remembering that grace and wonder abound if I’m willing to see it:

1. A swarm of dragonflies
2. Morning jogs/bike rides with my boy (he rides, I jog; he waits, I sweat)
3. Seeing the moment “it” clicks on a student’s face
4. More September birthdays than we even know what to do with
5. Sparkle gel crayons
6. The perfect, encouraging words of a friend—with a hug, to boot
7. Eyelashes
8. Read-aloud time
9. Cappuccino made by my husband
10. My daughter’s "sassy" dance on the steps of the courthouse

What bits of magic have you experienced recently?

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Tips for Creating a Musical Environment

One of the key factors in the Suzuki method is environment. Suzuki observed that children learn to speak by being immersed in their mother tongue—their parents speak to them, sing to them, respond to their babbles and facial expressions, and make a HUGE deal out of the first time baby says “Dada” or “Mama”. Even when they are not being spoken to directly, they are surrounded by language: parents, siblings, friends, neighbors, are all constantly carrying on conversations in the baby’s presence. The child may or may not be paying close attention to these conversations, but s/he is steadily hearing and absorbing all of it. Likewise, a rich musical environment should be part of a child’s musical development—how else are they going to really internalize the language.

This idea seems a little daunting to parents who are new to music lessons. What do you do if classical music is a foreign language at your house? Here are some suggestions—most of them are easy and inexpensive:

1) Listen daily. If you are taking Suzuki lessons, there is a CD recording for each volume of pieces your child is learning. Play it every day, as much as you can get away with. Even though your child may not seem to be paying attention, s/he is internalizing the music, and developing a model for how each piece should sound. I cannot emphasize enough how important this is in learning and remembering a piece, and for the amount of effort it takes, the payback is simply amazing.

2) Turn on the radio. Our local public radio station plays classical music from 9-noon every weekday, and broadcasts live concerts from all over the world several evenings a week.

3) Visit your library. Even if your library’s selection of classical CDs is small, it’s still a place to start. If you hear something you like on the radio, make note of the composer and look for other pieces by the same person. The same goes for performers. Classical music is a collaborative art: one person writes the music, somebody else (usually) interprets it. Make note of the individual or group performing something you liked, and look for other recordings by the same people.

4) Go to concerts. I wouldn’t recommend taking young children to a long, formal performance if they aren’t used to concert etiquette. But many symphonies offer family concerts with kid-friendly programming (read: short pieces) and a relaxed atmosphere. Keep your eye out for outdoor concerts, too. Again, the atmosphere is more relaxed, and it is easier to make a quick exit with a restless child. Check, too, with your local colleges, universities, and youth orchestra programs. Student ensembles often give free or inexpensive concerts, and there is much to be said for children getting to see other young people perform.

5) Read. I’m a real fan of traveling across disciplines and art forms. Knowing about Mozart’s childhood, or Beethoven’s struggle with deafness, or Milhaud’s experience in a concentration camp helps me appreciate and understand their music all the more. If you haven’t spent much time on this blog, check here for a continually-evolving list of music books for children.

6) Branch out. Does your child know what can be done with his or her instrument? The Suzuki books are a wonderful start, but there is so much cool stuff out there! In the violin world, there are the classical star composers and performers (and please do check out works by Paganini, Sarasate, and Wieniawski, the Bach Solo Sonatas and Partitas, and concertos by Mozart, Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Tchaikovsky, Brahms, Sibelius, and others) but there are also amazing things being done in jazz, rock, and fiddling, not to mention crossover work being done all over the place.

Saturday, September 4, 2010

On Surviving the First Week

"Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire."
--W.B. Yeats                                

My friend has this quote up on her blog, and I just had to use it because it describes so well what was good about our first week of school (hope you don’t mind, Shonya!) I admit, I was not looking forward to starting this school year. I put off planning all summer, dreading the thought of schedules, personality conflicts, and curriculum choices. On top of that, I decided it would be “good” to add a few more violin students to my tiny studio, and even though my number of contact hours is small, the increased load seemed to require more energy than I believed I had.

So I set a start date for August 31st, started planning, and tried not to let the fear, dread, and loathing swallow me up. Sounds lovely, doesn’t it? Are you wondering if maybe I’m not cut out to be a teacher? I guess only time will tell for sure. But what I do know, (even if I have to remind myself constantly in the face of fear and self-doubt,) is that practically every day that I teach, I dread it going in, and am in love with it coming out.

I don’t relish the schedule-making or organizing I have to do. And there’s a part of me that would rather not deal with people at all. But there’s something magical about helping somebody learn—seeing that spark catch in their eye, watching the flames start licking up, and adding fuel to the fire. Discovering and understanding and making connections—I love doing it myself, I love sharing it, and I love seeing that passion start to warm other peoples’ blood.

This week was such an encouragement to me. Sometimes I need reminding, but I truly love being with my children. And I love meeting new people and sharing music with children and their parents. Those things alone are beautiful, but on top of that, I got to be witness to countless little miracles: the light in children’s faces when they heard “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” on a violin, right in front of them for maybe the first time, the almost-imperceptible jolt of understanding in a four year-old’s body that comes when you discover that if you make the sound for “u” and the sound for “p” and put them together closely enough you get “up” and that’s what reading is, the delight a third-grader can take in filling a page with carefully worked-out math problems, the brand-new thirst for discovery that has a fifth grader excited about history. I’m positive there are huge challenges ahead. But I’m so thankful that for all my foot-dragging, I get to be doing what I’m doing.