The benefits of studying music are far-reaching, perhaps more than most realize. As stated in earlier chapters, music is an intangible and therefore is difficult to quantify in any regard. The benefits may seem anecdotal but when discussing the subject, most people acknowledge its necessity in educational development.
At our music school in Midland, Texas we believe that music is more than sound, it is relationships. There are many life-lessons that can be learned through studying music and we hope our students will learn much more than music.
I played in civic orchestras in the New York area as a teenager and noticed how many community players were doctors, lawyers, surgeons, etc. It didn’t surprise me to find out that Einstein enjoyed playing his violin in string quartets, or that Benjamin Franklin was a classically trained composer and violinist. Jane Austen studied piano from a young age and even transcribed music. Ernest Hemingway was a cellist. Indeed, music trains us to think differently than the normal classroom.
When I began searching my heart for reasons that would benefit others, as I started my music school, I wondered if I could think of even a handful of them. Once I started to jot down my thoughts, it took less than a minute to write eighteen to twenty of them. If I pressed myself, it wouldn’t surprise me to find many more.
Following are some thoughts from the items on that list.
Confidence
Courage and confidence go hand in hand. I once heard a U.S. military general describe his experience as a young soldier getting ready to go into combat, seeing the body bags coming back. His advice was that you cannot get rid of fear altogether, but you learn to manage it.
For students in our music school in Midland, Texas stepping onto a stage for the first time may be a little scarry. We want them to learn how to face their fears with confidence.
I have stepped on stages and platforms around the world more times than I can remember. I’m not sure I even remember the first time I ever performed. There are times that stick out in my memory, however, as I think back for examples.
The moments just before going on stage are the most intense. I remember, as a young man travelling with my father to Europe to perform as a violin soloist waiting by myself backstage to go on. A typical concert usually began with an orchestral overture that lasted around ten minutes, then the concerto, intermission, and a full symphony would take up the second half. So, for a good few minutes before going onstage, I was alone while the orchestra, along with my father, was already performing.
Those moments of introspection, knowing that all of the preparation I had put into what I was about to do (many months of daily practice) for memory, for a packed audience, my adrenaline high, was about to be given. I could feel my quick pulse pounding through my body. My hands were sweating, and I felt focused, almost transcendent, knowing that all I had, being so far away from anything familiar on the other side of the world, was my violin (14 pieces of wood glued together) and my bow (a stick and hair from a horse’s tail) and my preparation.
I knew, whatever happened out there, I would own. There was no guarantee of success, only preparation, courage, and sacrifice.
Helping students at our music school in Midland, Texas learn the value of preparation is another powerful life-lesson they can acquire.
Over time, performance became more routine, but I always knew there was risk.
I began to notice that my confidence in performance varied. Some concerts I felt better than others, and I began to understand that the more prepared I was, the more comfortable and confident I was.
This led me to find ways that I could increase my level of preparedness. Sometimes concerts didn’t allow me to have much preparation, but the ones that did gave me opportunity to budget my time and calendar to assess my progress over weeks and months, strategizing my goals and assessing myself routinely.
As teachers at our music school in Midland, Texas we help students gauge their preparation and help them time their readiness, so they can successfully perform.
When I became a music director at a church, there were some hard deadlines – those that were essentially immovable (i.e. every Sunday and Wednesday service). The big events were Christmas and Easter. The group I had was comprised of all volunteers, so the discipline of preparation I learned for myself as a performing artist I applied to a larger group of people. They actually needed more time than normal, since performing was not their vocation.
Once I learned how to structure their preparation most successfully, I realized that I had to have all charts and arrangements prepared for them by the end of summer if we were to have a successful Christmas season.
When I left the church worship position, after thirty-seven years, I decided to start a music school, to pass on any benefits I had learned over the years to an upcoming generation at our music school in Midland, Texas. Part of our advertising plan, using search-engine optimization, required me to get Google reviews. To succeed, I needed more reviews than I had students, so I searched for creative ways to get reviews by playing my violin at the local mall for passers-by.
I had kept my skills up over the years, practicing enough to keep myself in shape and playing in the regional symphony orchestra my father had spent much of his life building. What I had in my immediate repertoire, for memory, were the Bach Six Sonatas and Partitas for Solo Violin.
Our mall is all indoors with multiple shops and many locals wandering from store to store. Most people are Spanish-speaking and their preferred style of music is generally Mexican folk music.
I have performed on stages around the world, and the platform at the church had a nice sound system. But this situation was just me, directly to an audience of my community, with no pomp and circumstance and no bells and whistles to hide behind. Just me, my violin, and my preparation.
I remember driving to the mall, slowly. I didn’t want to do it! I was wrestling in my mind, “They’re not going to like Bach!”
When I got there, I unpacked my instrument, stood there while people were passing by, closed my eyes and began to play the first movement of the B-minor Partita. When I finished, I opened my eyes and there were several people standing around watching. They made comments to me, “Oh, that was so beautiful!” And those who didn’t speak English, I could tell that somehow the music had emotionally touched them.
I learned another lesson that day. It’s not about style. It’s about courage, confidence, preparation, and a willingness to be there.
We want students at our music school in Midland, Texas to have similar experiences of facing their fears and stepping up with confidence in every area of their lives.