Michael Joviala

Tag: early childhood

  • First Instrument

    I am always pleased when the old standards come out in my early childhood child/adult groups. I’m not talking Gershwin or Berlin here (though that would be great, too), I mean chestnuts like “The Eensy Weensy Spider” or “The Wheels on the Bus”—even if the adults seem somewhat embarrassed to be singing them. Yes, they are childish, but their melodic structures contain the DNA for so much music: tonic-dominant harmony; solid period-phrase structure found in even the most sophisticated of music.

    They are classics for a reason: they fit young voices and little kids actually do like singing them. I know they also can develop obsessions with music intended for more mature audiences, but songs like “Let It Go” from Frozen that they are often encouraged to sing are wildly inappropriate for their age or vocal development. I get it: they hear it in the car; they love the movie; they begin to sing along. Their approximations are undeniably adorable, and some parents are simply allergic to anything that feels infantile. I understand this, but I wonder sometimes if it leads to acute self-consciousness at an early age, when they suddenly become aware that they don’t have Idina Menzel’s chops.

    In my own teaching, I am constantly looking for new ways to counter this early self-consciouness. I like to end all of my child-adult classes with singing. As I’m getting to know them early in the year, I ask the pairs to sing a favorite song to their partner. I mean for this to go either way: adult to child or child to adult, but very often I see the adults prodding the children to sing something—anything. I walk around, listening in, hoping for something we can sing together. Every once in a while, a class comes in with a mental library of songs at the ready, and it is such a treat. But sometimes this request results in a staring contest. Many adults are terrified to sing to their children, and I think some children notice and internalize this.

    The early childhood music education franchise Music Together seems to recognize this too, and I think they really get it right when they structure their classes around songs. I try to introduce new songs and then repeat them week after week so that we can build our own repertoire. I am allergic to “hello” and “goodbye” songs. (For no good reason—there are wonderful examples of both out there.) The closest I get is ending almost every class with Frere Jacques. It is a very adaptable tune to whatever the theme has been: dynamics, beat vs. rhythm patterns, tempo, legato vs. staccato…

    It’s hard to do that with “Let it Go”. Young children are unconcerned with so many other things they are not particularly good at, but happily do anyway. Singing seems to be another matter. Once the kids are on their own at 4–5 years, many, if not most, are afraid—or at least reluctant—to sing by themselves. They have learned that singing can be done well or poorly. I call it ‘The American Idol Effect’: the idea that if you dare to sing something, it had better be good because someone will be judging you.

    So here are a few basic activities I try in the first few weeks of children’s Dalcroze classes to set the tone, so to speak, about the singing voice.

    The Singing Hand

    Lie on the floor. When the ‘singing hand’ hovers over you, it causes you to hum any pitch. When it disappears, you stop. Variations:

    • Anyone can have the singing hand.
    • There can be multiple singing hands.  

    Pitch Press

    Hum a tone, and I’ll try to match it. If it is a match, press your hands together. If not, keep them apart. (for younger children: if it is a match be still, if not, wiggle)

    Vowel Sound Choir

    Make the vowel sound you see (on any pitch): ‘ah’ ‘ee’ ‘oh’ ‘oo’, etc. The “choir” watches conductor. For older children, the vowel sounds can be written on the board. For younger, they can watch my mouth. Variations:

    • multiple leaders
    • create signals for louder/softer; start/stop; higher/lower; individuals or groups, etc.

    The Sound of One Stick

    I hold up a single rhythm stick or clave. “What instrument am I thinking of?” [I mimic violin playing.] “Right! Violin! What does it sound like?” Children make the sounds. Continue with trumpet, flute, guitar… Next week, flip the roles.

    Play and Sing

    Play the rhythm sticks (or any percussion instrument) and sing a song. Make up the song or sing one you know. (Now is the time for (part of) “Let it Go”.) If no one has a song, I ask them a sung question: “What did you have for breakfast?” etc. and require them to answer with their singing voice.

    Sing Do When the Music Stops

    Walk, run, skip, lunge, etc. with the music. When the music stops, you stop and sing “C” or “Do” or “1” or any selected pitch. Variations:

    • sing the last pitch you heard
    • sing to someone else
    • sing your favorite color (or anything else)

    Scale Yoga

    I didn’t have my first yoga class till I was thirty years old, but all kids seem to know yoga these days. These are associations with classic yoga poses. Scale Degree 1 (SD1)= lie on the ground; SD2=cobra; SD3=cow; SD4=cat; SD5=dog; SD6=runner; SD7=touch toes; SD8=stand up hands together. They can sing the pose name or the numbers, the sound the animal makes or anything else you can imagine. This really belongs to a different teaching subject, the major scale. I include it here because kids seem to forget they are singing when they do it.

    There are endless variations here: kids can lead; move and sing a simple song like Hot Cross Buns; follow my singing; move a phrase after I play it on the xylophone; invent your own series…

    Bonus activities for grown-ups or older kids:

    Move your voice

    Make sound with your voice and move. Let your sound shape your movement, or let movement shape your sound. Variations:

    • group or pairs watch a mover and make sound
    • Listen to a sound maker and move (again whole group or pairs)

    Sound sculptures

    (In small groups) Choose an order. No. 1 moves into a position and hums a sound; No. 2 adds to the sculpture and hums another pitch; continue until everyone has contributed. Repeat. No. 2 starts. Variation:

    • Sound Machines: the positions include repetitive movement and sound. Good for kids.

    In Dalcroze pedagogy we often refer to the body as instrument. This single metaphor becomes a giant portal for musical discovery and a vehicle for the expression of the musical impulse. But the voice doesn’t need to represent anything.

    It is quite literally our first instrument.

    What are your favorite ways to invite students to make use of this profound gift?

  • Color My World

    How many times have you looked at a young child’s drawing and thought, “Wow. That’s terrible.” Maybe you even said to yourself, “That’s supposed to be a puppy? It’s just a bunch of scribbles! This kid needs some lessons.”

                Absurd, right? We afford children an amount of freedom for their visual creative work that we withhold when it comes to music. Part of the reason for this may be the evolutionary pressures that now allow us to close our eyes but not our ears. I can glance at the child’s drawing, praise her, and be done with the whole interaction in a moment. Not so easy to do when someone is sawing away at the cello for hours, or producing sounds on the recorder that make even the dog head for the door.

    But I wish we let children explore their instruments as often as we encourage them to freely dive into a box of Crayola 64. Music so quickly turns into the study and practice of fingerings, reading and “notes” (a word I wish would disappear). I admit it’s not an entirely fair comparison. If young students are to be in an ensemble there are things to know and skills to perfect. I grew up playing in these bands and orchestras, and I always loved the cacophony of the room before the rehearsal started: 30 young musicians all making their own sounds! There was a kind of power and even unity in the chaos that trundling through Hot Cross Buns, or even The Theme from Rocky—as thrilling as that also was—could never quite match.

    This year, in addition to my Dalcroze classes, I’ve been teaching an instrument discovery class. The kids (between 4 and 5 years old) with their grown-ups get to spend time with the recorder, the piano, violin, cello, and the ukulele. In addition to classroom Dalcroze experiences, they have weekly assignments that I hope will encourage them to think of music as not only mastery of an instrument but also as a wide open field of creative possibility. So far they have written short songs, matched movement to sound with homemade instruments, conducted each other with musical gestures and drawn pictures of sounds. The sounds they are producing on the recorder can be headache-inducing for those with sensitive ears, but I guarantee you I could find master improvisers, some at the forefront of music innovation, who have made those exact same sounds on recordings that are now considered classics. If it’s not too early to let a child spread paint with their fingers onto a sheet of paper, surely we can set them free with a simple instrument and let them discover some of its possibilities for themselves. As they share their discoveries with the class they also get a taste of what it’s like to prepare something to perform for others or to be a member of an ensemble.

    It’s their 3rd week on recorder, and, yes, we are learning to produce specific pitches and building skills related to breathing and tonguing. Yes, we are heading towards Hot Cross Buns (a beautiful example of simplicity, contrast, AABA form, and so much more) before we shift to the next instrument. And, yes, the families may need to thank their neighbors with a bottle of red for their kind indulgence. There will be plenty of time in their young lives for standing still, practicing a difficult passage for hours, perfecting tone. Where would music be without those willing to do those things? But also, where would music be without the hunger to explore and create? I believe we can nurture both from day 1.

    One way to do that is through the Dalcroze approach. Now that we are heading into our third month of study, many early childhood Dalcroze families are wondering just what the heck we do in there for 45 minutes? Children are notoriously unreliable narrators, so some previous articles I’ve written can help give you a general idea of our goals and objectives.  You can use the ‘early childhood‘ tag to see articles about early childhood Dalcroze. Here’s a good one to start with for a basic overview. If you are really intrigued, ask to visit an adult Dalcroze class—no musical experience necessary—and try it for yourself!

    As always, I’m delighted to hear your thoughts, comments and questions in the box below.

    Now go get a box of 64 for yourself and have some real fun…

  • A Class for 5-6 Year-olds

    So many things can happen over the course of a Dalcroze semester that you can often get a better idea of what a class has been doing by simply describing a single class in detail. Here’s a description of a recent class of exceptional 5-6 year-old girls that I am fortunate enough to see every week.

    I began the class by placing the girls in the 4 corners of the room. I played a chromatic scale with the left hand ascending and the right hand descending, and I asked the girls if that suggested a way of moving. (The previous week, they had found a way of moving 4 even phrases in the shape of a square.) After a bit of thought, one student pointed to the center of the room, which was exactly what I had in mind. The girls followed the piano through different shifts of tempo, and then I let each one lead a turn. By the time we were done with this warm-up, the class was quite in tune with one another.

    Next, we played an ‘inhibition’ game, a standard Dalcroze technique. I asked them to move with the music, but at the call ‘hop’ they were to stop for 4 beats. At first, the piano stopped with them. As they got used to the game, I kept playing, which required them to feel four beats internally. After a while they got good at this, too, and I was able to try different kinds of tempos and dynamics.

    Next, I played a rhythm pattern (quarter-quarter-half) and asked them to move it. They picked up the basic pattern right away, but stopped at the half note. This is a typical reaction, as we are naturally drawn to the start of a musical event. Indeed, that is where the influence of a pianist pretty much ends as far as the sound goes. Not true for singers and string players, though, who must continue moving the breath or arm in order to continue the duration of a sound. I encouraged the girls to move through the note, using their arms or shifting their weight in space to show the entire length of the half note. We explored many ways to do this. For pianists or future pianists, this gives them the internal experience of sustaining a sound that they can’t get from playing the instrument itself.

    The rhythm pattern was part of a round I wanted them to learn, called “Ah, Poor Bird”. The round contains this pattern twice, followed by a new 2 bar pattern with eight notes, and then a return of the first quarter-quarter-half motive. I was hoping to get them to step rhythm and clap the beat, but that proved challenging. To move toward this goal, I put them in pairs. We decided we were birds, and that one bird would flap their wings to the beat throughout the song, while the other bird would move to rhythm, which sometimes goes fast than the beat, sometimes slower. It was not easy for them to separate parts like this. One often gets drawn into the other. However, this ability to feel two (at least!) things simultaneously is an essential skill for musicians in countless (pun somewhat intended) ways. The Dalcroze classroom is the perfect place to externalize this very internal skill.

    It was time to take our experience to a more abstract and symbolic realm, however. We sat down with cards with quarter, half, and eighth notes printed on them. After establishing gestures for each duration, and names for each, the girls figured out the rhythm pattern of the song. (In college courses, this is known as dictation!) I set them up with their partners, one with a percussion instrument and one with a particular duration. (We first spent a moment to decide which instrument might be best suited to which duration.) The pairs improvised. When one partner help up their card, the other played the rhythm. Then we tried it with the rhythm pattern of the song. I had to dictate the rhythm first, but they soon were able to do it by themselves. It was quite an impressive display. Finally, it was time to loosen up, so I let them freely improvise to St Louis Blues.

    The musical material was simple, but the girls managed to take it far beyond where many discussions of quarter, eighth and half notes usually end, and that is one of the many things I love about the Dalcroze work.

  • Infrequently Asked Questions About Early Childhood Dalcroze Classes

    Aside from one or two perennials, I don’t get asked too many questions during my Dalcroze classes for young children. With busy toddlers demanding attention, there just isn’t a lot of time for chatting. (There are one or two questions I am commonly asked. See if you can guess what they are – I’ll include them at the end.) But here are a few questions I imagine some might have:

    1. What’s the goal of the class?

    I know that seems like an obvious question, but the answer may not be so obvious because we don’t really have time to talk about it. My hope is to immerse the children in music as much as possible. I sing, tap, clap, walk, move and play in music, and hope to encourage an environment in which everyone feels fully comfortable and free to do the same. For musicians, this is a more or less natural way of relating to others. For those with less experience in music (whether formal or informal), this may be new. I hope that everyone leaves the class inspired to try the activities at home – or make up their own ways of relating to each other through music.

    2. My child is not ever asked to do anything special, and sometimes does not even seem to be paying attention. What is she really learning about music?

    Children’s ability with language (speaking, reading, writing, etc.) is closely correlated with the amount of language they have heard from infancy. Music works the same way. (I would also argue that we learn this way at all ages.) We don’t have to teach children what a noun or verb is, or what order to put them in before they can fluently communicate. Children are actually capable of using quite sophisticated grammar from a surprisingly early age, all without formal instruction. If we want musical children, we surround them with music. We make it irresistible. We make it as natural as speaking, and we do this by simply being musical with them as often as possible.

    3. Why does Michael discourage me from talking to my child in class, and yet he talks all the time?

    For children, being musical is no more unusual than anything else they encounter minute by minute. It’s all new! For the adults, who perhaps are not as accustomed at this point in their lives to being musical on a regular basis, it is sometimes unclear: What am I supposed to do? And then: if I don’t know what to do, I am sure my child doesn’t!

    My goal is always to make the room move and breathe in music together. I model with movement, or a ball, or a scarf, and I hope to look out and see uninhibited musical expression and experimentation. If I don’t see it, I keep working until I do. Sometimes I am successful, sometimes not, but my verbal coaching is entirely for the adults. The kids don’t need it! Children absorb by their own combination of being and doing. The best mode for the adults to be in is to ‘be the music that you want to see’. Just know that you may not see that music right away, just as they don’t utter every word they hear the first time they hear it.

    What’s the most frequently asked question? The winner is: “When can my child start an instrument?” My answer is always the same: 1) when the child asks for it, and 2) when you think the child is ready to sit down and play everyday. But what’s the rush? The cello, the piano, the violin are instruments for musical expression. What needs to be developed, nurtured and fed (at all stages of musical life) is the need – the hunger – to express and engage musically. Then, the rest is easy.

    I hope you will be encouraged to try some of the things we do at home. You might want to play some of the recordings I have used in class. Many of these come from larger sets of music. It’s great to play the whole set (in the car, in the background at home, etc.) Get out the balls, the scarves, the stuffed animals; walk/gallup/tiptoe/dance as the louds and softs, fasts and slows of the music change. (A streaming service like Spotify, Rhapsody or now Apple Connect are wonderful resources and well worth the $10 subscription fee.)

    Make it a part of your every day life, and your child will enjoy the gift for life.

    Here’s a list of some of the pieces I have used recently:

    1. The Old Castle by Mussorgsky, from Pictures at an Exhibition

    2. Rockin’ in Rhythm and Daybreak Express by Duke Ellington

    3. Des pas sur la niege (“Footprings in the snow) by Claude Debussy from Preludes for Piano

    4. Prelude to the Mother Goose Suite by Maurice Ravel

    Happy playing… And keep those questions coming…

    Michael Joviala

     

  • Drawing Music

    For the past few weeks, you may have noticed your children leaving the classes clutching drawings. In the spring of the year, I usually begin to focus the children’s attention on ways that musical events and phenomenon can be visually represented. However, the longer I teach, the more I find myself delaying the introduction of standard notation symbols for younger children.

    This is not because young children are not able to hear rhythmic relationships in music. Studies have shown that babies are able to perceive complex musical features that we consider quite sophisticated. (For more on this, see the work of University of Toronto researcher Sandra Trehub.) As they become accustomed to the music of their particular culture, these perceptual abilities are pruned away. And while 4 year olds may have lost some of this natural perceptual ability, I am very wary of reducing their experience to symbols too soon.

    One of the main goals of a Dalcroze class is learning initially through discovery and experience, rather than conceptual explanation and visual representation. I can tell a four-year old that eighth notes are twice as fast as quarter notes, but what will those words mean to a young child who has had only limited experience using numbers to add, subtract , multiply and divide? And if the conceptual ground is not solid, emphasizing the symbols seems for these young musicians seems to be the wrong way to go. By this point in the year, I know that they can already perceive the difference – they easily change from running to walking as the music changes.

    If I show them a quarter note and tell them that this is for walking music, a great deal of their experience will have been disregarded (not to mention the many ways quarters are used as symbols in music, not always for ‘walking music’ by any means). I would rather ask them questions: How could you draw walking music? Then: How could you draw soft music? Fast music? Heavy music? The fact that something that you see could possibly represent something that you hear is not necessarily obvious, or even logical, to a four-year old mind, and so as I ask these questions I let them draw what they like. I invite them to tell us about their drawings, and, the accompanying sounds that go with them with using percussion instruments or their voices.

    And so, while I do now and then show them quarter notes, eighth notes and the like while we play and sing, I don’t make a big fuss over them. The tools of notation, with all of their inherent freedoms and limitations, will be available to them as needed.  But until then, I hope as much as possible to preserve their direct connection with their essential experience of music as we begin the process of mapping sound to visual representation.

    Michael Joviala

    March, 2014

  • Leading and Following, Up and Down

    Over the past few weeks the 4-5 year-old classes have been exploring several different aspects of musical experience that I have written about previously. Now that they are getting used to working together as part of a group, I like to give them opportunities to lead and follow. Recently gingerbread men and women have lead their fellow cookies through the snow to a frozen pond (ice skating ensued…), and elephants have followed their leaders through the crowded city streets on their way to their jobs at the Big Apple Circus.  I have written about these kinds of activities in a previous post which you can read here.

    Also, we are continuing to explore musical elements related to pitch. This year I have found myself singing more to the children throughout the class, and encouraging sung responses from them. It is interesting to see the many different attitudes towards singing that have already taken hold in the children. Some are quite ready to sing anything: made up songs, their favorite songs, what they had for breakfast… To encourage those that may be more shy, I attempt to give opportunities where the entire group is making sound with their voice: perhaps the elephants can call out to each other,  or maybe we can all wonder how a monkey would sing Frere Jacques. Previous posts address other ways I attempt to give them experience hearing pitch, register and scale, click here for more.

    Got a question? Add your comment here. I’d love to hear from you!

    Michael

    December, 2013

  • Is my child gifted?

     DSC_0769

    There is one comment that I often hear from parents that still catches me off guard: “He really responds to music!” The sentiment is usually expressed with a mix of surprise and awe, but seeing children respond to music with delight, enthusiasm, passion, abandon, inventiveness and curiosity would likely surprise few teachers of young children. We are more surprised – concerned, even – when we don’t see those things.

    Our notions of what children are able to perceive have changed drastically in the last 40 years. Whereas we used to regard infants and young children as blank slates waiting to be inscribed, every month brings more reports on the remarkably sensitive distinctions babies are able to make in the language and music that they hear. By the time they are 4 years old, they have logged thousands of hours listening to the sounds that surround them. They are absolutely ready to engage.

    Along with the surprise that parents often express when they see their child so passionately responding to an art form that they themselves may now have little involvement with or feeling for, a question sometimes follows, “Do you think he is gifted?” (Not always stated so baldly, but…) Though I often suppress it, my first instinct is to unequivocally shout, “Yes!” no matter what child I am talking about. Having watched so many children over the years, I am constantly reminded that most are supremely gifted artists in that stage of their lives. We all used to be so: actively engaged in our environment during our waking ours, as all committed artists are; constantly creating and exploring in order to make sense of – and take delight in – our surroundings, ourselves and others.

    Over the coming year, if you peak in the door or window, you may see your child skipping with abandon, totally immersed in a drama or story, or lost in a sound world of his or her own creation. Our culture has made a fetish of musical ability – either you have it or your don’t, and only the lucky few who do should spend their days making music. However, the longer I teach, the more respect and awe I have for that special moment in their lives when they are all able to do these things with complete unselfconsciousness.

    I am very interested to know what music is to them, and I will carefully try to introduce to them my own conception of it as well. It will be difficult to for them to express what they are learning in class, because in the early ages they are completely full of their own music, and I am loath to disturb that process. (See my earlier blog post for more on this subject). I do have an agenda – a curriculum, if you must – but my primary goal is to let them enjoy their gift while it is still unequivocally theirs.

    Michael Joviala

  • A Basic Structure for 4-5 year-old Dalcroze Classes

    Hello Lucy Moses Summer Intensive 2013 participants, and anyone else interested teaching music to young children!

    As requested, here is an outline of the structure I use for my classes for young children. Though I do follow this basic plan for most of my classes, this represents only what works for me – there are many possible ways a lesson can go. However, I have found that not having to think about what kind of activity is needed (floor work, movement in space, improvisation) allows me to more easily fine tune what we are doing to the ways the kids happen to be responding.

    Floor work/body warm-up

    This is an opportunity to bring the group together. Kids enter the class in many different physical and emotional states and they seem to benefit from a sensitive transition period from ‘out there’ to ‘in here’. We start in a circle on the floor with simple body warm-ups that might introduce a musical focus point for the day, often through a new song.

    Movement in place

    Standing in once place for long periods of time is not something that comes naturally to many children (though there are exceptions!). Whenever possible, I like to find ways to engage the children musically as they ground themselves in one spot – another way to experience the day’s musical focus. Arm swings, body shapes and sculptures requiring quick reaction, waiting and watching as soloists move can all build this ability which will be required of many of them if they begin the study an instrument such as the violin.

    Movement in space

    Once the children get to know my routine, they know that they will soon be moving around the room with abandon (though always with a listening ear!). The transition to moving in space looms large as they are standing still. I include many kinds of locomotor opportunities, taking suggestions and cues from them as often as possible. After a month, most can recognize and respond appropriately to music that walks, runs, skips and all the rest. I may use images here to focus or inspire movement (trains, horses, taxis, a previous weeks story..). As the year unfolds, I find ways to have them move in different size groups – solo, duos, trios and full ensemble. I often build the movement to a high point, and then invite a rest and relaxation transition.

    Story

    The story is often the heart of the class. It is hard not to take advantage of the children’s hunger (well – all right, and my own) for image, story and drama. With the right chemistry of elements, they fully invest themselves in the action. Many musical subjects can be explored this way: meter, phrasing, duration, dynamics, tempo…

    Cool down/relax

    Another relaxation period follows. I usually play a full piece during this time without speaking. I have used short pieces by Schuman, Chopin, Ravel Debussy. If they are especially restless, we might do some quiet relaxing movements on the floor (snow angels, limbs slowly up and down, quiet singing).

    Different seated activity

    After the story, I try take advantage of the quiet focus that comes after a lot of physical activity and a good rest. I might use symbol work on the board, drawing, a ball passing experience, or the exploration of an unfamiliar instrument to attempt to tie our experiences to whatever musical concept or element has been the focus of the class.

    Improvisation

    Every class of mine includes some kind of improvisation – to say nothing of all of the improvised movement that has gone on up to now – using percussion, voice, xylophone or tone bells. This is a time for us all to observe and learn from each others’ musical responses and ways of playing. I rarely have all of the children playing the same instrument. Through individual musical interaction with me, I sometimes encourage children to discover new ways of playing, or attempt to steer them toward a desired musical goal. (I always hope that it emerges unbidden, however!) Often, I find myself affirming something I have heard in their playing by reflecting it in my own musical response. It is a time to see how our experiences are influencing musical development.

    Songs

    Though I do not use goodbye or hello songs, I do like to end the class singing. I often ask, “What should we sing?” or “Who’s got a song?”. If no one pipes up, I’ll offer one that we’ve done in the class, sometimes playing just the rhythm on a percussion instrument to see if they can recognize it. (A variation on the Mystery Tune, see Farber, Anne for more details!) I often try to adapt favorite class songs to the day’s musical focus.

    And then, “See you next week!”

    I hope that answers a few questions, and doesn’t raise to many new ones. If it does, feel free to ask! Also, I’d love to hear about your own basic class plans. I’m sure there’s lots of variation! Feel free to comment here on the blog, or in person at our next meeting.

    Michael Joviala

  • Leading and Following

    train_old
    Because music is often a social activity, the Dalcroze classroom is a great opportunity for kids to experiment with roles that will also be important for them as they move through life. Over the past several months, I have become interested in giving them experiences of leading, following, working with a partner and being a member of a large group, all areas good musicians navigate with ease.

    At 4 and 5, children are such natural followers that, when asked to become the ‘engine’ of a train, they will very often simply end up following the ‘caboose’. I gently encourage them to make a directional choice that allows the train to follow a winding path throughout the room. As they go the music mirrors their movements as closely as possible, giving them a more solid experience of their own tempo choices. Of course, when they speed up, it is easy for many children to loose track of the ones following them as they become caught up in the thrill of moment. If their train falls apart, we regroup and I encourage them to carefully lead the cars so that the train stays together, and the passengers safely arrive at their destination.

    Once they become skilled at this, they are ready to lead a partner in a room full of pairs making independent choices. We become taxis drivers and passengers, and an observer stepping into the room would see (on a good day!) many different things happening: taxis driving alone and with a passenger, stopping for red lights, going slowly in traffic or on the expressway, and many other surprises the children come up with on the spot. This is done without music, so that I can narrate what I see, helping the children become aware of possibilities other than their usual favorites.

    The older children seem to be moving into a more social phase of their development. I often notice that the 5-6 year olds are more interested in directing their playfulness towards each other than are the younger children. They have experienced walking alone vs. walking with a partner vs. moving with the whole group, taking their cues from the music. In a follow-up activity they mimed playing an instrument while I ‘conducted’ solos, duets, and full orchestra to the opening movement of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. I have also made time to improvise freely with different combinations of non-pitched percussion instruments in solos, duets, trios and whole ensemble configurations.

    Michael

    3/1/13

  • Phrasing

    A phrase can best be described as a musical sentence. Phrases can be long, extending over many bars, or as short as a few beats. Just like a spoken sentence, phrases are often separated by a breath, or at least the sense of one. The ends of musical phrases can imply the punctuation of a written one: commas, periods, question marks, exclamation marks can all be heard in music. Musicians who play with a good sense of phrasing communicate a feeling of beginning, middle and end to each phrase they play.

    These concepts may be challenging to explain in words to a four-year-old, but children can easily experience phrasing in movement. At first, they are given musical or dramatic cues to encourage them to stop – something they are not always inclined to do on their own. Imagery can also play a role: the prowling cat pauses to sniff the air; the farmer has to stop milking the cow to wipe the sweat off his brow.

    Anyone who has seen a room full of children galloping with complete abandon can verify that the image of a horse and rider is very powerful for young children. We ride to galloping songs such as “She’ll Be Comin’ Round the Mountain”. They practice pulling the reins to stop the animal, which draws their attention to moments in the song when the horse pauses. After a while, astute groups begin to notice when the horse galloped for a long time as opposed to a short time (the third phrase). We can also apply the concept to a song called “Who Stole My Chickens and My Hens”, a short, catchy tune depicting a very suspicious farmer. In this song, rests of varying lengths separate the phrases. While the children sing they walk around. During the rests, they pause to look for their lost chickens. As the year goes on, they can have many opportunities to initiate, continue and stop movements on their own, the very definition of a phrase. 

    A more challenging exercise asks the students to stand in their own spaces, while one student delivers a ball to another during a phrase of a song. Many skills are required here, not the least of which is standing still until it is your turn to move with the ball! To perform this well, students must have a clear sense of the arc of each phrase, since they have to decide whether to walk to someone near or far depending on the length of the phrase.  For five and six-year-olds I use an Irish lullaby called “Cucanandy”, which has a short-short-long pattern of phrasing. Younger children can pair up with an adult and press hands at every sung ‘O’ in this song, since every phrase ends with this vowel. Better yet, they can make the shape of the ‘O’ with their partner at the appropriate moment. 

    I have also used the ‘Cuckoo’ movement from Saint Seans’s Carnival of the Animals to illustrate phrasing. In this short ,magical piece, a cuckoo calls out at the end of each phrase. We walk quietly through the forest, stopping to point out near and distant birds as we go. The phrases are irregular and so it requires intent listening, but children are drawn into the hushed, enchanted forest Saint-Saëns has created. 

    Besides having their attention drawn to one of the most pleasurable aspects of music, the work has obvious application to instrumental work. The Dalcroze work allows the students to experience on a large canvas what must eventually be made small.