:3»? .‘ ‘
a”

. a.”
4&¢~"‘:t‘2‘
a... 33:...

«.
u
s

an}.

:.I
" [121“ 3
Q!!! ,5.
9§F§K§ly

. ,h-j‘.»
». n. -
;_ 2'.“ Nut '

I .n
w.

, “3‘
4 pix: “:3:
“3.1/13“ V ‘

 

 

“a

T‘:“._:_ .vAHA 0,?
pkg)? ' _.,1"a\p

This is to certify that the
dissertation entitled

ANDRAGOGY AND MUSIC: CANADIAN AND AMERICAN
MODELS OF MUSIC LEARNING AMONG ADULTS

presented by

NATHAN BERG KRUSE

has been accepted towards fulfillment
of the requirements for the

PhD. degree in Music

"IVVIM‘LA

Major Professor’s Signature
8' , l0. Zoo 7

Date

MSU is an affirmative-action, equal-opportunity employer

PLACE IN RETURN BOX to remove this checkout from your record.
TO AVOID FINES return on or before date due.
MAY BE RECALLED with earlier due date if requested.

 

DATE DUE DATE DUE DATE DUE

Mill i 2? 2%“

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

5/08 K:/Prolecc&Pres/CIRCIDateDue indd

 

 

ANDRAGOGY AND MUSIC: CANADIAN AND AMERICAN MODELS OF
MUSIC LEARNING AMONG ADULTS

By

Nathan Berg Kruse

A DISSERTATION
Submitted to
Michigan State University
in partial fulfillment of the requirements
for the degree of
DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY
Department of Music Education

2007

ABSTRACT

ANDRAGOGY AND MUSIC: CANADIAN AND AMERICAN MODELS OF
MUSIC LEARNING AMONG ADULTS

By

Nathan Berg Kruse

Discovering the attitudes and perceptions that non-professional adult musicians
hold regarding their participation in instrumental ensembles may help improve instruction
as well as the ability to more fully understand the meanings and implications of lifelong
music making in society. Consequently, the teaching and learning strategies associated
with adult learning provided me with the notion of investigating the methods that adults
use in learning to play music instruments. Thus, this dissertation investigates the
historical ideologies of andragogy with a contemporary application of its tenets to
Canadian and American models of music learning among adults.

This research is based on inferences derived from ethnographic research
conducted with adult students and teachers from the Cosmopolitan Music Society in
Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, and from the New Horizons Band in East Lansing, Michigan.
Specifically, this research focuses on (1) telling the stories of Canadian and American
adult musicians who have been motivated to perform in an instrumental ensemble, (2)
suggesting that what we know and learn about adult learning may be used in fostering
pre-adult learning functions among school music students, and (3) providing the impetus
for lifelong learning by discussing teaching approaches for bridging the gap between

schools and communities.

 

Results indicated that group dynamics were key factors in sustaining music
participation. The degree to which individuals were satisfied with musical experiences
depended on musical difficulty, instructors’ teaching styles, belonging to a larger
community, and a strong awareness of reciprocity. Participants in this study also reported
that they continue to search for creative, self-directed ways to overcome issues of time
management, as fellow musicians depend on their readiness to perform.

Based on these results, I identified several ways in which school teachers can
apply lessons drawn from adult learning, including recognizing the need for structured
music lessons; acknowledging and embracing the social characteristics of being in a
music ensemble; deepening musical awareness through critical drinking activities;
decreasing reliance on notation for beginners; encouraging chamber ensemble
experiences; investigating ways in which to include non-traditional school music students
in music; and encouraging the advancement of community music and the notion of

lifelong learning through music participation.

 

Cepyright by
NATHAN BERG KRUSE
2007

DEDICATION

This dissertation is dedicated to my parents, Kenneth and Barbara Kruse, in
gratitude for their prayers, support, and levity, and to the late Mr. Sylvester “Bess”
Bartling, for handing me my first accordion folder of community band music. I am
grateful to them for fervently opening the doors to opporttmity, for unwittingly fueling
the notion of lifelong learning, and for honorably setting examples of wisdom, humanity,

and character.

 

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I am sincerely indebted to the faculty, family, friends, and community musicians
who made possible the research shared in this dissertation. First, my gratitude to my
outstanding Committee: to Dr. Mitchell Robinson, my advisor and personified Inukshuk,
for his genuine care, guidance, and friendship during my doctoral program and for the
numerous “good talks” we shared; to Dr. Cynthia Taggart, for her editing prowess and
her heady insight into research and design; to Dr. Sandra Snow, for her calming, genteel
way of posing questions and eliciting critical thinking; and to Dr. Kevin Sedatole, for
being the consummate professional in all things related to music learning. I am also
thankful to the College of Arts and Letters, the now College of Music, and the Graduate
School for supporting my research through several generous fellowships.

Next, I wish to acknowledge the adults who eagerly and thoughtfufly participated
in this study. I have always taken pleasure in conversing with those older and more
experienced than I and being witness to the life stories they pass on, so I am grateful to
them for making me a part of their lives, for letting me hear their sage voices, for
revealing to me new insights associated with the mysteries of adulthood, and for trusting
me to share their remarkable stories with others.

Finally, thank you to my esteemed friends, Tami, Steve, Lisa, Beth, Dani, and
Ruth Arm, for sustaining me over the last three years and for remaining indomitable
sources of prayer, humor, fellowship, patience, and understanding. And to my parents on

the wooded hill, thank you for everything.

vi

TABLE OF CONTENTS

 

PROLOGUE
“TWO BOOKENDS” ................................................................................ 1
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTION .................................................................................... 3
Rationale for the Study ...................................................................... 3
Vignettes ....................................................................................... 4
Further Rationale ............................................................................. 6
Defining Community Music ............................................................... 9
Defining Andragogy... ...14
Principles of Adult Music Education ..................................................... 16
Health and Musical Wellness ............................................................... 20
Theories of Motivation ....................................................... 24
Theories of Motivation 1n Lifelong Learners and Music ..................... 27
Cultural Influences on Motivation ................................................ 29
Historical Placement of Andragogy ....................................................... 32
First Appearance in Print .......................................................... 34
Second and Third Inventions ................................................... 35
Identity Achieved .................................................................. 37
Knowles’ Assumptions ............................................................ 38
Summary .......................................................................... 41
Philosophy of Education and Adult Learning ........................................... 44
Philosophical Beliefs Regarding Education .................................. 45
Philosophical Belies Regarding Music ......................................... 48
Perspectives and Values on a Philosophy of Adult Music Education ....... 52
Purpose and Problems ....................................................................... 55
CHAPTER II
REVIEW OF RELATED RESEARCH .......................................................... 57
Systems of Lifelong Learning and Arts Participation .................................. 57
Gerontology and the Fine Arts ............................................................ 61
Ethnographic Studies in Community Settings ........................................... 63
Summary ..................................................................................... 69

vii

CHAPTER III

 

METHODOLOGY ................................................................................. 71
Design ........................................................................................ 71
Human Subjects Approval ................................................................. 71
The Researcher Lens ....................................................................... 72
Participants .................................................................................. 75
Settings ....................................................................................... 76

Cosmopolitan Music Society ..................................................... 76
New Horizons Band ............................................................... 78
Procedure and Data Collection ........................................................... 80
Limitations of the Study .................................................................... 82
Analysis ...................................................................................... 83

CHAPTER IV

GETTING TO KNOW THE DRAMATIS PERSONAE ...................................... 85
Cosmopolitan Music Society ............................................................. 86
New Horizons Band ........................................................................ 93

CHAPTER V

“THE PROVERBIAL ONE-ARMED PAPER HANGER”: LESSONS ON

MOTIVATION FROM TWO ADULT “SIT-DOWN” BANDS ............................. 97
Vignette ...................................................................................... 97
Data Collection and Analysis Summary ............................................... 105
Codes of Incentive ........................................................................ 106

Early Influences .................................................................. 106
Denied or Delayed Access to Music Instruction ............................. 110
Motivation ........................................................................ 1 12
Flow ............................................................................... 1 17
The Art of Hanging Wallpaper: Garnishing the Scaffolds of Adult
Learning .................................................................................... 122

CHAPTER VI

“IT’S BEEN MY LIFE”: COMPONENTS OF IDENTITY, SELF-CONCEPT, AND

POWER WITHIN THE COMMUNITY ........................................................ 124
Codes of Identity .......................................................................... 124

Self-Identity ...................................................................... 125
Group Identity... . 129
Self-Concept as “Musrc1an .................................................... 134
Being Part of a Musical Community .......................................... 136
Health .............................................................................. 139
Power Sharing ........................ - -143
This 18 Your Life: Part-time Musician, Full-time Affiliate. 146
viii

CHAPTER VII
“OH GOD, I’M NOT l8 ANYMORE”: MAKING CONNECTIONS TO POINTS ON

 

THE CONTINUUM LINKING PEDAGOGY AND ANDRAGOGY ..................... 150
Topics Related to Adult Learning ...................................................... 150
Self-Directed Behaviors ......................................................... 158
Time Limitations and Practicing ............................................... 164
Tempus Fugus: Asking for Directions along the Continuum - 166
CHAPTER VIII
SUMMARY, CONCLUSIONS, AND IMPLICATIONS FOR FUTURE
RESEARCH ........................................................................................ 167
Summary ................................................................................... 167
Purpose and Problems ......................................................... 167
Method ............................................................................ 168
Conclusions ................................................................................ 169
Implications for School Music .......................................................... 170
Additional Considerations for Future Researchl80
EPILOGUE
“AN ELUSIV E BIRD” ............................................................................ 186
APPENDIX A ...................................................................................... 195
EXAMPLE OF INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT
APPENDD( B ...................................................................................... 197
EXAMPLE OF INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT WITH CODES
APPENDIX C ...................................................................................... 199
INTERVIEW SUMMARY FORM
APPENDIX D ...................................................................................... 200
EXAMPLE OF INTERVIEW SUMMARY FORM
APPENDIX E ...................................................................................... 202
PRELIMINARY LIST OF CODES AND THEMES
APPENDD( F ...................................................................................... 205
FINAL LIST OF CODES AND THEMES
REFERENCES ...................................................................................... 208
ix

 

PROLOGUE

“TWO BOOKENDS”

July 1987; Batesville, Indiana

The curious aromas of grilled hot dogs, burning charcoal, and
pungent lighter fluid elegantly combine to create a unique bouquet
indicative of summer outdoor activity. Chain-link ropes rhythmically groan
and squeak under the vacillating weight of children playing on nearby
swing sets; their laughter and babble organically blend into the sonic
tapestry draped over the small-town park. It is a humid Friday evening, and
community members have gathered to hear a concert in the park presented
by the town’s historic band. Facing each other, members of The Eureka
Band sit along the interior circumference of a small, modest gazebo, the
focal point of the evening’s events.

A portly teenager, the newest, youngest member of the group, sits
among them, stuffed into his obligatory band attire: a white, short-sleeve
dress shirt, dark leather dress shoes, and a pair of scratchy navy dress
slacks that cling to the backs of his thighs. Following the National Anthem,
the middle-aged drummer receives a subtle nod from the elderly band
leader and proceeds to sound the roll-off. The music begins. As the
teenager reels out the athletic comet flourishes embedded in the “Chicago

Tribune March,” sweat snakes down his temples and onto his round

cheeks, pausing only for a moment before dripping off the sides of his chin
and onto the polyester pants below.

Surrounding the gazebo, townspeople sit cross-legged in brightly-
colored lawn chairs, bobbing their heads and tapping their feet to the
rousing pulse generated by the musicians. Eventually, the band punctuates
the march with a compulsory stinger. Without delay, the teenager detects a
startling, mysterious disturbance in the sonic tapestry that envelops the
park. While the predictable sounds of clapping emanate from the lawn
chairs surrounding the gazebo, nameless, faceless town members who had
been concealed in cars parked along the perimeter of the grounds begin
honking their horns wildly in appreciation of the performance. The alarming
cacophony of percolating, multi-timbred toots and bech slice through
the muggy twilight air. Amused, the teenager grins wryly at this unorthodox
display of human behavior during an artistic event. He looks forward,
though, to me shape the evening will assume, for each song, as he learned,
would begin and end with two monumental bookends: the anticipatory

drum roll-off and the comedic gaggle of car horns.

CHAPTER I

INTRODUCTION

Rational for the Study

Because I have had an ongoing relationship with adult music education for several
years, I have had numerous opportunities to experience the personal satisfaction that
comes from performing with fellow musicians and for audience members. As a long-time
member of community ensembles — bands, choruses, mariachi, chamber choirs, church
ensembles, brass quintets, and brass bands — I began noticing, in contrast to my
experiences in public school ensembles, that there was something deeper and more
honest about members’ reasons for participating in a given community ensemble. Most
notably, a sense of cohesiveness, stability, purpose, safety, and solidarity organically
accompanied many of the musical activities and endeavors of each gathering, something
that I endeavored to effectively and consistently maintain in my own classroom. How
could a community ensemble rehearsal and a school ensemble rehearsal be so
fundamentally different? Should they be fimdamentally different? When does formal
school education end and adult education begin? More important, perhaps, can the two
exist simultaneously? How do expectations differ between adult students and school
students? How do teachers’ expectations differ? What are the social constructs involved
in ensembles, and, if possible, how would one attempt to align the two discourses
(educating children and educating adults)? The initial recognition of these disparate
social underpinnings first occurred when I was a portly 16-year-old boy, the youngest

member of a small-town community band.

November, 2005; East Lansing, Michigan

The conductor divulges the agenda for the day’s rehearsal and
promptly begins by having the band play an assorbnent of long-tone
exercises, scales, and arpeggios from the method book that graces the
players’ music stands. The conductor experiments with various rhythmic
patterns, articulafions, and dynamic fluctuations within each exercise,
attempting to touch on aspects that the group will experience later on in
other pieces. They are quiet and still, even when the conductor pushes
them to improve upon what they are already doing well.

“What’s different about this particular exercise?” he asks, and then
fields responses from the group, redirecting and probing further, when
necessary, their replies. They continue to work on fundamentals for nearly
three-quarters of an hour until such time as the conductor realizes he has
lost track of time. Embarrassed for being consumed by the warm-up
activities, the conductor sheepishly thanks the group and quickly
dismisses them for their snack break. Several leave the room to take
advantage of the fresh coffee, muffins, cheese, and fruit that await them in
the lounge, but a few of students remain in the room with the conductor.

“Thank you!” one of the players declares. “We all! needed the
work on those scales. Can we do more of them after break?” Another band
member joins in. “Oh ye_s,” she says, “I just love doing the basics! They

make us sound so much better.” The conductor realizes how differently

senior adults may respond to method book warm-ups than typical middle

school band students.

June 2006; Edmonton, Alberta

Dress rehearsal on stage: The flutes and clarinets are playing a
unison “G” that is out of tune. Like three young school girls, fire first firree
clarinets look down at each ofirer, scowling and rolling fireir eyes in dismay.
Eventually, Ethel leans over and adjusts the fingers on the gentleman
sitting beside her. The intonation is still problematic, but is improved. The
trio looks down at each other again and nods approvingly.

Dress rehearsal from the wings: “Look, it’s the alpha male,”
someone says to one of the senior gentlemen in the band.

“It’s fire ‘old bastard,’ let’s be real!” he corrects. “I’m celebrating my
60‘“ wedding anniversary‘this monthl”

A small, unassuming woman carrying a comet shuffles by. “It’s good
you’re up and walking...above ground,” she gently teases her friend.

“Yeah, I checked fire ‘obits’ this morning and I wasn’t there,” he
quips.

Dress rehearsal at its conclusion: The stage, once laden with people
sitting in neat and tidy rows, is now swarming with activity. Band members
are scattering off into the wings to pack up their instruments and to get
something to eat before the evening concert. As the musicians slowly

dissipate, two figures remain on fire hushed stage. A daughter stands in

front of her elderly mother who is still seated in her chair. After a look of
encouragement from her daughter, fire mofirer summons her energy and
eventually rises from her chair, latching onto her daughter’s arm for
balance and support. Carrying bofir of fireir instruments, the daughter

slowly and tenderly leads her mottrer off stage and into fire darkness.

January 2006; East Lansing, Michigan

Marian receives an email from one of her adult students who is
leaving on vacation for Hawaii. She wants to assure Marian firat she has
packed her drum sticks, her practice pad, and her part to Bandologyso she

can practice playing in cut-time while vacationing on the islands.

Further Rationale

Interestingly, it has only been within the last twenty-five years that researchers
have collected information concerning the learning process in adults with regard to music
(Achilles, 1992; Boswell, 1992; Bowles, 1999; Brookfield, 1986; Bygren, Konlaan, &
Johansson, 1996; Coffman, 2002; Darkenwald, 1992; Ernst & Emmons, 1992; Gates,
1991; Mark, 1998; Myers, 1992; Sloboda, 1994; Veblen & Olsson, 2002). Because
American adults now outnumber those younger than 18 for the first time (Coffman,
2002), educational opportunities that have been available for children and young adults
may now, more than ever, be desirable to the increasing number of adult learners in our
society. As the baby-boomers begin reaching the ages of 55 and 60, the percentage of the
population represented by older adults will continue to rise (Koga & Tirns, 2001), which

suggests that the aging adult population will be seeking educational opportunities to

improve the quality of life. Myers (1992) reported that rapid advances in society have
shifted attention onto meeting the learning needs and interests of all ages and that music
educators may play a vital role in serving adult learners. Furthermore, the convenience
and abundance of global information that exists for Internet users contributes to the desire
for self-discovery learning, and scores of adults have found the appeal of community
music participation to be extremely attractive (Bowles, 1999; Coffman 2002; Ernst &
Emmons, 1992; Myers, 1992; Veblen & Olsson, 2002).

Typically, high school band students may not be aware of the musical
opportunities that exist for them once they graduate, or, for that matter, that musical
opportunities exist at all beyond the framework of a formal education. Many extrinsic
motivators in school instrumental music can be identified in numerous ways, including
the fulfillment of grade requirements, being held accountable for imposed obligations,
attendance, practice/work ethic, and parental mandates for participation. Adults, in
contrast, may experience a divergent set of motivational factors that contribute to
community band participation.

Instrumental performance venues for adults can possess any number of
philosophical tenets and can appear in numerous forms, such as college campus bands,
community bands, and senior adult bands. For example, non—professional, non-music
major college instrumentalists have the fieedom to experience continued performance-
based settings, to refine musical skills, and to encounter diverse sources of repertoire
through participating in campus bands. For similar reasons, amateur adult musicians may
choose to perform with community bands, dance bands, jazz ensembles, quintets, and

brass bands to cultivate and maintain this artistic expression and to continue the act of

 

performing on their instrument. While the adults who participate in these ensembles are

often professionals in the work force and are established members in their own
communities, they are compelled to continue performing on an instrument they have
played for decades as an avocation. Additionally, older adults may have the opportunity
to participate in the New Horizons Band movement, a program whose philosophy is
designed for senior adults. Members in this program have the opportunity to either learn
an instrument for the first time or to continue musical study, many afier a significant
hiatus of over 30 years. It is understandable, then, that the motivations adults hold to
participate in community ensembles could be as widely varied as the members
themselves and the communities in which they reside.

In this dissertation, I will construct ethnographic images of adult instrumental
music cultures in Canada and the United States in order to study and understand how
music is learned and transmitted among adult learners. I will argue that studying the
attitudes and perceptions that non-professional adult musicians hold regarding their
participation in instrumental ensembles can help improve music instruction as well as
help us to more firlly understand the meanings and implications of lifelong music-making
in our society. Because community music performances and the adults who participate in
these cultural phenomena simultaneously generate and transmit art, it is imperative to
acknowledge and emphasize the communal effort involved in this enterprise, as well as
draw attention to the value systems associated with music-making endeavors.

This study contains the musical, social, and contextual components extrapolated
from an assortment of observations related to the types of music-making as experienced

by adult members of the Cosmopolitan Music Society (CMS) in Edmonton, Alberta,

Canada, and the New Horizons Band (NHB) in East Lansing, Michigan. I also examine
what motivates the members to continue participating in adult bands, and look for
possible meanings of the music in the lives of these adults. In other words, why do adults
participate in music when they do not have to? Initially, an investigation of existing
research and professional literature is needed in order to identify the many facets of
community music, its members, its value and place in society, the perceived health
benefits from participating in community music opportunities, motivation theories related
to music participation, philosophy, and finally, the notion of andragogy, or the principles

of adult education, and its relevance to music learning among adults.

Defining Community Music

Historically, the first interest in music participation was generated among
community members themselves (Small, 1998). From the ancient Athenian villages to the
height of European classicism in Vienna, performers and audience members were
typically from the same community and shared mutually in the specialized activities and
purposes within the village, such as tending farms, selling shoes, and blacksmithing
(Small, 1998). During these years, musical entertainment often took the form of informal
parlor recitals that were comprised of several performers who shared the concert program
and who rotated performing for their village contemporaries. Parallels can be drawn
between the historic traditions of the past and the community music practices of the
present, as contemporary amateur musicians practice their vocations by day and enjoy

performing for fi'iends, family, and one another during their free time.

Although the definition of community music varies from country to country,
Veblen and Olsson (2002) maintained that a common thread among the multiplicity of
definitions involves people participating in music-making activities. Community music
may manifest itself in various forms, such as bands, orchestras, church choirs, private
lesson studios, parades, barbershop quartets, dances with live musicians, recorder
ensembles, bell ringers, sing-alongs, and jazz groups, and can reflect any number of
cultural, social, or geographical settings (2002). While community music activities often
include intergenerational participants within the membership (Boswell, 1992), the
prevailing philosophy is that everyone has the freedom and the ability to make music
(Veblen & Olsson, 2002). Although the process of music-making can be the sole purpose
for participants in community music, there exist other motivational factors for
involvement, including social, cultural, recreational, and expressive reasons. In addition,
many community musicians acknowledge a positive sense of identity, responsibility, and
self-expression through their voluntary and self-selected participation in ensembles,
where the roles of individuals may change through time and that have a direct influence
on the collective (2002).

Another definition of community music comes from the website of the
International Society for Music Education (ISME). While this mission statement does not
yield a solitary definition, it does reflect the many qualities of music the Society’s
Community Music Activities Commission wishes to impart:

Music in community centers, prisons and retirement homes; extra-

curricular projects for school children and youth; public music schools;

community bands, orchestras and choirs; musical projects with asylum

10

seekers; marching bands for street children. All this — and more — comes

under the heading of community music. One of the central features of all

these activities is that the starting points are always the competencies and

ambitions of the participants, rather than the teacher or leader. But a single

definition of community music is yet to be found (ISME website,

http://www.isme.org).

Reasons for participation may also exist on individual, more personal levels.
Small (1998) outlined a broad sense of community music in our society by asserting that
music was “not a thing at all but an activity, something that people do” (p. 2). In doing so,
he used the term musicking as an all-encompassing verb for any musical activity.
Performing on stage, listening to live concerts, singing in the shower, humming while
doing housework, hearing Muzak in an elevator, jogging with a Walkman, and joining
the church organist in singing a hymn are all examples of musicking (1998). To pay
attention in any way to a musical performance — whether passively or actively — results in
musicking. Small (1998) ultimately proposed the following definition: “To music is to
take part, in any capacity, in a music performance, whether by performing, by listening,
by rehearsing or practicing, by providing material for performance (what is called
composing), or by dancing” (p. 9). The notion of participatory musical experience is not a
new one, as the writings of Elliott (1995) also contain the principles and benefits of
musicing (Elliott’s spelling). It is through an encompassing concept of musicking that
adults may be able to identify and embrace society’s numerous, accessible musical

venues.

ll

Another factor that distinguishes community music from other forms of music-
making is the co-existence of both formal and informal music education practices.
Formal education, or the education associated with a traditional, structured school setting,
is often coupled with an informal, less structured educational environment that
encompasses diverse group learning. Through its remarkable paradigm, community
music affords musicians a framework that creates a distinction from public or higher
education (Veblen & Olsson, 2002). Furthermore, Veblen and Olsson (2002) outlined

several characteristics of community music activities:

0 Emphasis on a variety and diversity of musics that reflect and enrich the
cultural life of the community and the participants

0 Active participation in music-making of all kinds (performing,
improvising, and creating)

0 Development of active musical knowledge (including verbal musical
knowledge)

0 Multiple leamer/teacher relationships and processes

0 Commitment to lifelong musical learning and access for all members for
the commmrity

0 Awareness of the need to include disenfianchised and disadvantaged
individuals

0 Recognition that participants’ social and personal growth are as important
as their musical growth

0 Belief in the value and use of music to foster intercultural acceptance and

understanding

12

0 Respect for the cultural property of a given community and
acknowledgement of individual and group ownership of music

0 Ongoing commitment to accountability through regular and diverse
assessment and evaluation procedures

0 Fostering of personal delight and confidence in individual creativity

0 Flexible teaching, learning, and facilitation modes (oral, notational,
holistic, experiential, analytic)

o Excellence/quality in the processes and products of music-making relative
to individual goals of participants

0 Honoring of origins and intents of specific musical practices (p. 731).

The intergenerational precepts of community music and the longitudinal
implications of lifelong music-making may be of special interest to music educators as
the profession reevaluates how music is taught and learned and how students are
socialized musically. These considerations, then, are also applicable to adult learners.
While several studies address music learning among adult and senior learners, the notion
of andragogy as an independent strand within music education is absent from

conventional music research.

13

Defining Andragogy

“The concept of andragogy can be interpreted in several ways. To some it is an empirical
descriptor of adult learning styles, to others it is a conceptual anchor fiom which a set of
appropriately ‘adult ’ teaching behaviors can be derived, and to still others it serves as an
exhortatory, prescriptive rallying cry. This last group seeks to combat what it sees as the
use with adult learners of overly didactic modes of teaching and program planning, such
as those commonly found in school—based, child education. Andragogy is also now, for
many educators and trainers of adults, a badge of identity ” (Brookfield, 1986, p.90).

Although the historical context of andragogy along with its multiple definitions
will be discussed in greater detail later in this chapter, it will be important to provide an
initial explanation of andragogy so that its function and use within this dissertation will
be made clear. For the purposes of this study, andragogy will be defined as any self-
directed, self-initiated learning behavior that, when displayed by adult participants in
music-making activities, may indicate that independent musicianship has evolved and has
manifested itself in self-governing actions in respect to specific musical settings.
Although self-directed behaviors may include such actions as asking higher-order
questions, seeking additional instruction, tailoring one’s individual practice habits toward
improved learning, searching out musical resources, inferring to other areas, and
remaining self-selective in participatory activities, these indicators may, in fact, provide a
window into what adults are learning in ensemble settings, how they are assirnilating and
transferring musical information into practice and performance, and how this may inform
teaching at the individual and group levels.

While early definitions of andragogy are specific to only the adult population, I
submit that andragogical behaviors may be observable in students of any age if

conditions are such that these behaviors are encouraged, nurtured, and facilitated by

instructors. It is because of adults’ life experience that they are often compelled to

14

independently take responsibility for their own learning; consequently, what we learn
from adults about how they acquire knowledge, process information, develop musical
skills, and what they value about music participation may provide insight into how people
learn best and can, therefore, inform how school music is taught. Moreover, while the
precepts of andragogy may just be examples of good teaching, it would be misguided for
educators to casually transfer the precepts of andragogy to every musical setting and to
regard its attributes as universal remedies for enhancing education.

Another facet of andragogy important to address is its rampant and somewhat
unbridled terminology. While numerous definitions of andragogy exist, it should be
stressed that the purpose of this dissertation is neither to isolate nor pinpoint a clear
definition of andragogy, but, rather, to attend to the characteristics of how adults learn
while examining their relevance to music acquisition. It should also be emphasized that,
while the terms andragogy and adult education share significant characteristics, the
stance taken in this research will be such that andragogy is a style of learning and adult
education is the process or the institution of learning that takes place among adult
learners. While adult education programs are, without question, linked to the adult
population, andragogy, in contrast, may be an approach to learning that is not wholly
dependent on age or experience, whereby age-appropriate decisions made by students of
any age may suggest that responsibility for one’s own learning has surfaced. Additionally,
the reader may notice that andragogy and adult education are used somewhat
interchangeably throughout this document. Ultimately, it is important to keep in mind
that it is the way in which adults learn that will be of greatest importance in creating

implications for school music teaching. The multiplicity of tenets espoused by andragogy,

15

then, may benefit music educators as the search for a new definition of music education
continues. This study will illustrate some of the many roles music plays in enriching the

quality of life among adult learners.

Principles of Adult Music Education

Because there has historically been a general lack of concern for theories of adult
learning, Knowles (1984), Brookfield (1986), and Sloboda (1984) identified
characteristics unique to adult education and investigated ways to further the
development of an adult-driven philosophy. Lindeman (1926) and Knowles (1968) were
the first North Americans to coin the term andragogy in describing the learning
tendencies common among adults. The precepts and historical contexts of andragogy will
be discussed at length later in this chapter. Brookfield (1986) focused on and identified
six characteristics of successful adult learning:

1. Adults learn throughout life as they adjust to life changes.

2. They display a diversity of learning styles and learn in different ways,

at different rates, and for different reasons.

3. They prefer problem-centered learning that directly applies to specific

personal concerns.

4. They are influenced, both positively and negatively, by prior

experiences.

5. If learning is to occur, they need to view themselves as learners.

6. Adults tend to be self-directed learners (p. 31).

16

Finally, Sloboda (1984) proposed a three-stage model of musical development that began
with pleasure, led to commitment, and culminated with achievement. In addition,
Sloboda observed that many non-performers appeared to have missed the first stage of
musical experience, thus stifling any firrther musical curiosity.

Because much of the research on adult musicians analyzed participation in
community music organizations, Coffman (2002) outlined three varieties of motivation
for participation in these groups: personal motivations, including self-expression, leisure,
self-improvement, and recreation; musical motivations, including a professed love of
music, learning more about music, and performing for one’s self and others; and social
motivations, including meeting new people, being with fi'iends, and having a sense of
belonging (p. 202). Of the three motivations, no single reason emerged as the leading
reason for community music participation, although more successful performers reported
higher ratings for personal and musical motivations than did less able performers
(Coffman, 2002).

Gates (1991) studied the public at large and classified its musical involvement
into three separate categories: participants, spectators, or not involved. In addition, he
delineated the participant category into six sub-types: dabblers, recreationalists,
hobbyists, amateurs, apprentices, and professionals. Gates concluded that community
music ensembles overwhelmingly consisted of amateurs, apprentices, and professionals,
as these categories tended to view musical performance as accomplishment. He also
concluded that participation in adult music ensembles would only increase to the extent

that music educators would explore avenues in which to attract the dabblers,

l7

recreationalists, and hobbyists, as these groups tended to view music as entertainment
(1991)

While adults experience diverse and independent levels of physical, cognitive,
and emotional development within their lifetime, they learn differently according to their
maturity level (Coffman, 2002). Some of the contributing factors toward adult maturity
include biological tendencies, physiological influences, and cultural environments.
According to Darkenwald (1992), adult education has been defined as “systematic
processes used to foster changes in the knowledge, skills, and attitudes of persons whose
dominant social roles are characteristics of adulthood,” (p. 30) and it is through adult
education programs that many adults find solace and meaning in their lives. Myers (1992)
echoed these sentiments when he concluded that adults experience high levels of
satisfaction when learning fulfills expressive needs.

Because many community music programs are founded on the premise that
everyone has the ability to make music, community music involves active participation in
many kinds of music-making: performing, improvising, and creating (Veblen & Olsson,
2002). As stated earlier, musical communities can appear in many forms, such as
community concert bands, choirs, orchestras, jazz bands, rock bands, barbershop quartets,
Renaissance ensembles, and church choirs. While some ensembles may have more
stringent performance guidelines than others, many groups have two unique
characteristics in common in that membership is both voluntary and self-selected (Veblen
and Olsson, 2002). An individual who chooses to participate in a community music group
has the opportunity to move through a variety of roles in the ensemble, “from observer, to

participant, to shaper, to creator” (p. 731).

18

An additional component in adult music education is the preparation of teachers
for this age group. Although adults may be more likely than children to recognize their
need for learning, teacher education programs have historically failed to acknowledge the
need for music learning past twelfth grade (Myers, 1992). “School—based strategies” and
“intuition” are the foundation for many music educators’ teaching styles, rather than
teaching lifetime learning habits (p. 25). There has also been a commonly accepted
theory that teachers understand the critical developmental stages of junior high and high
school students far better than those of adults, so it will be imperative for teachers to
recognize adult music learning tendencies if they are to raise the level of understanding
regarding the stages of adult development (Achilles, 1992). Mark (1998) indicated that a
majority of students accepted into higher education are overwhelmingly trained in the
Western classical style, which may lead to teachers who are improperly suited to meet the
multiple demands of adult musicians. He proposed an evaluation of the music teacher
preparation curriculum, which placed emphasis on the media explosion, the global
village, and the multicultural society:

1. Emphasis on the music behavior of people rather than exclusively on

music as a work of art.

2. Acceptance of the existence of a variety of equally valid musics.

3. Conveyance of attitudes such as tolerance, empathy, and respect for

differing tastes.

4. Stressing the emotional meaning of music, rather than merely the

rational, structural, analytical and related aspects.

19

 

5. Emphasis on the processes of musical socialization and the reception of

music.

6. Regarding teaching not as a one-way street but as a mutual learning

- process between teacher and pupils.

7. Consideration of the multi-functionality of music in our society (Mark,

1992,p.23)

Because adults have traditionally possessed the ability to independently
conceptualize their own educational needs, it is through educating teachers in adult
learning theories that musical instruction’s effectiveness will be enhanced. Adults may
also select musical activities because of the perceived health benefits associated with
participation; therefore identifying health and wellness tendencies attributed to musical
participation may also contribute to understanding more fully the developmental stages

associated with adult learning.

Health and Musical Wellness
Research in music therapy, wellness, and the aging process (gerontology) has
illustrated perceived health benefits for adults as a result of participation in music-making
activities (Belli, 1996; Cavanaugh, 1994; Coffrnan, 1996; Farbman, 1994; Horn, 1992;
Koga & Tirns, 2001; Pieters, 1996; Rider, 1997; Roskam, 1993; Roskam & Reuer, 1998).
While the purpose of this dissertation is not to report extensive findings pertaining to the
health benefits of participation in community music, it is important to cite examples fiom

the available literature on the subject. Perhaps these results will in some way assist

20

researchers and music educators in evaluating adult music instruction, thereby developing
a conceivable framework for additional, comprehensive studies.

Although adults begin to experience gradual deterioration of the neuromuscular
and cardiovascular systems after the age of 26, the aging process itself does not interfere
with the ability to learn (Coffman, 1996). While older adults may require more time to
decipher information, maintain focus, and perform multi-tasking operations, these
deficiencies can be minimized through task familiarity, regular exercise, and structured
information (Cavanaugh, 1997). Primary mental abilities, such as vocabulary, number
and word fluency, spatial orientation, and inductive reasoning, have been identified as
deteriorating with age; conversely, secondary mental abilities, such as idea production,
auditory and visual intelligence, memory, and intelligence, have not been subject to
deterioration (Horn, 1982). Fluid intelligence, or the analytical reasoning independent of
experience and education, is thought to develop early in life and decay with age, whereas
crystallized intelligence, that is, cultural knowledge based on life experience and
education, is thought to increase with age. Because of the large amounts of domain-
specific knowledge required for expertise, scientists in cognitive studies have observed
that individuals are rarely experts in multiple areas (Coffman, 1996; Pieters, 1996). It is
conceivable, then, that, while general cognitive abilities may deteriorate over time, areas
of expertise within individuals can maintain or even increase with time and practice
(Pieters, 1996).

A number of researchers have established the positive health benefits of music
participation (Belli, 1996; Koga & Tirns, 2001; Roskam & Reuer, 1998). According to

Belli (1996), community music-making in modern society has become a priority in

21

strengthening the behaviors, attitudes, andbeliefs of one’s life, which ultimately leads to
better health. The researcher also reported that active music-making is viewed as an
integral component within education, social activities, and ultimately wellness, stating
that “music-making is inherently good for people” (Belli, abstract, 1996).

Several corporate studies endorsed by companies such as the Lowrey Organ
Company and the Fletcher Music Centers in Clearwater, Florida, have investigated the
effects of music on the health of senior adults. Compelling data were compiled from
these research studies that may have strong implications for the continuance of adult
education in music. In subjects who participated in group or private music lessons,
benefits included strengthened immunity (Roskam & Reuer, 1998), decreased anxiety,
and a decreased perception of loneliness (Koga & Tims, 2001 ). Most notably, Koga and
Tims (2001) reported that healthy subjects who took advantage of private music
instruction experienced a 90% increase in Human Growth Hormone (hGH), which tends
to rapidly decrease with age. In contrast, elevated levels of hGH can increase energy and
sexual function, cause fewer wrinkles, and reduce the fiequency of osteoporosis. Rider
(1997) also reported that exposure to music has a remarkable effect on lowering three
different types of neuroendocrine stress hormones — hormones that interfere with natural
healing — in cancer patients. Even for non-performers, Farbman (1994) outlined how

experiencing music can affect one’s individual health:

0 An outlet for expressions of feeling
0 Structure which promotes physical rehabilitation
o Non-pharmacological management of pain and discomfort

0 Sense of control over life through experiencing success and mastery

22

0 Positive changes in mood and emotional states

0 Anxiety and stress reduction

0 Memory recall which contributes to reminiscence and life satisfaction
0 Opportunities to interact socially with others

0 Emotional connection when spouses and families share creative music

experiences (1994).

In a longitudinal study, a team of Swedish researchers surveyed nearly 13,000
adults regarding their cultural activities and tracked them for 8 years (Bygren, Konlaan,
& Johansson, 1996). Using a controlled number of variables, the researchers discovered
that those individuals who attended cultural events or who participated in community
music activities experienced lower mortality rates than those who did not attend cultural
events or participate in community music activities. The act of making music, according
to the researchers, contributed favorably to their perceived health, mental well-being, and
quality of life. Finally, Roskam (1993) addressed the Platonic influence of music on
one’s spirit and behavior:

Music can and does influence an individual’s behavior. The extent of this

influence, or the form it may take, remains somewhat enigmatic. We do

know that the influence involves a combination of musical and

experimental factors. Rhythm — or pulse that is regular or irregular, fast, or

slow, changing gradually or changing abruptly - can affect behavior.

Increase in dynamic levels, instrumentation, the quality of sound, tonal

aspects of music, as well as a myriad of other musical entities can all be

responsible for subtle and not so subtle actions and reactions. Over all lie

23

the experiences of a lifetime that make every musical response unique and

private (p. 8).

A review of literature suggests that music does have a perceived impact on the
health and wellness of the body, mind, and spirit. Because there are certainly cognitive,
social, and psychological developments that occur regularly in one’s life, it would be fair
to assume, then, that one would experience a heightened degree of feeling and
understanding from musical activity. It is through this practice of repetition that feelings
regarding music may be acknowledged, interpreted, and developed; in many cases, this

cyclic trend results in motivation for continued participation in community music.

Theories of Motivation

Motivation in relation to academic settings has long been of great interest to
educators, theorists, and psychologists (Maehr, Pintrich, & Linnenbrink, 2002). Although
there exists disagreement as to the source of motivation, it is a common belief that
motivational research may provide insight into what prompts students of any age to make
choices and select preferences (Bowles, 1999; Csikszentrnihalyi, 1975; Deci & Ryan,
1985, 1991; Eccles, 1983; Eccles, Wigfield, Flanagan, Miller, Reuman, & Yee, 1989;
Hull, 1943; Locke and Latham, 1990; MacLean, 1981; Maehr, Pintrich, & Linnenbrink,
2002; McClelland, 1985; Pintrich & Schunk, 2002; Rachlin, 1991; Rideout, 2002; Smith
& Haack, 2001.; Urdan & Maehr, 1995; VanderArk, 1989; Woody, 2004). Additionally,
the extent to which teachers understand the various and individualistic nature of students’
motivation for learning may be useful in predicting educational outcomes, performance

achievement, continued interest, and improved instruction (Bowles, 1999; Coffman &

24

Adarnek, 1999; Deci and Ryan, 1985, 1991; Eccles, Wigfield, Flanagan, Miller, Reuman,
& Yee, 1992; Flanagan, 1982; Locke and Latham, 1990; MacLean, 1981; Maehr, Pintrich,
& Linnenbrink, 2002; Pintrich & Schunk, 2002; Pitts, 1995; Rideout, 2002; Smith &
Haack, 2001; Urdan & Maehr, 1995; VanderArk, 1989; Woody, 2004). While early
models of behaviorism provide some information regarding human choice (Bruner, 1963;
Knowles, 1984), the recent focus on social cognitive models of motivation may assist
teachers and students of music in understanding the breadth and depth of expressive,
social, and musical fulfillment that music participation can provide. Thus, determining
the degree to which motivational factors contribute to adult participation in community
ensembles remains a viable and intriguing prospect in developing a philosophical
framework for fostering adult music education.

While researchers and psychotherapists differ on what factors may contribute to
motivation in students, they tend to agree that certain types of observable behavior may
indicate when motivation has occurred in individuals (Maehr, Pintrich, & Linnenbrink,
2002). In their extensive review of literature, Maehr et a1. provided four specific action
patterns upon which motivation research has focused: choice and preference, intensity,
persistence, and quality. Choice and preference was classified as a deliberate response by
students in selecting one activity over another. By investing energy into a specific activity,
students may be intrinsically motivated to continue choice behavior over an extended
period of time. While closely related to choice and preference, intensity primarily centers
on the degree to which a student becomes involved in an activity. Choosing a given
interest is merely a directional decision; intensity, on the other hand, requires attention to

detail and focus. Next, a deeper indication of motivation lies in persistence, or the degree

25

to which an individual persists in a choice and acquires an extended learning opportunity.
Finally, the quality of engagement is especially important when measuring motivation
behavior in individuals. This is perhaps the most sophisticated level in learning, as the
qualities that determine how a person learns may also determine achievement.

Although an individual’s actions may be indicative of motivation, two additional,
more intrinsic indicators, cognition and aflect, have been noted as contributing
significantly to motivational processes in individuals (Maehr et al., 2002; Pintrick &
Schunk, 2002). Determining how students think (cognition) and feel (affect) may, in fact,
lead to a better understanding of motivational processes.

Cognition refers “not only to how a person’s thoughts impact his or her
motivation but also to the type of thoughts that result based on various motivational
processes” (Maehr et al., p. 463). In essence, an appreciation for the learning process
itself and a desire to seek educational opportunities are two cognitive functions that shape
an individual’s investment in learning. Thus, Maehr et al. suggested that educators find
creative ways to elicit in students a desire for lifelong learning following high school
education. This could be a significant advancement in the application of music andragogy,
or the teaching and learning strategies commonly shared among adult learners in music.

Affect has been considered by some psychologists and theorists to influence the
way people respond to feedback and motivation (Maehr et al., 2002). While many believe
that emotions drive human behavioral characteristics, others, conversely, believe that
human behavior results in an emotional conclusion. Anxiety, fear, delight, and interest
are emotional affects that not only play an important role in motivation itself, but also in

performance products.

26

Other theories of motivation include (1) the role of values, which can influence
identity development, (2) self-perceptions of one’s abilities, which includes the self-
analyses of potential and future tasks, (3) self-efficacy theory, which includes
recognizing the awareness of one’s abilities to learn or perform a piece of music, and (4)
attribution theory, which suggests that psychological consequences such as self-efficacy
and affect influence behavioral choices like choice, persistence, level of effort, and
achievement (Maehr et al., 2002.) Finally, in terms of intrinsic motivation, self-
determination theory is perhaps one of the most compelling theories that can be linked to
adult learning. In this model, students are intrinsically motivated and are “more likely to
seek out and master challenges which satisfy their needs to be competent and self-

deterrnining” (p. 363).

Theories of Motivation in Lifelong Learners and Music

Other literature on motivation suggests that the way music educators enhance
student expectancies may not only improve student achievement and the perceived value
placed on selected musical activities, but may also prepare students for making future
choices to participate in similar musical activities. Csikszentmihalyi’s (1975) beliefs of
flow and intrinsic motivation, that is, behavioral modifications governed by both intrinsic
and extrinsic forces, has also been an important feature in musical motivation theory.
Woody (2004) echoed these sentiments, and added that music educators can raise the
level of motivation in students by drawing upon and generating inspiration, developing a
support network of peer musicians, and establishing a classroom environment that is

conducive to the creation of musical rewards. While Bowles (1991) concluded that

27

 

several significant positive relationships existed between prior experience in music and
current interest in music, the researcher later contended that the responsibility of creating
an adult population who participates in and supports the arts remains a challenge (Bowles,
1999)

Pitts (2005) discovered that leisure, personal development, identity, and self-
concept were among the most notable motivators for community musicians in Great
Britain. Her findings indicated that maintaining a balance between both individual
experiences and group experiences found in musical participation was a key factor in
stabilizing performer satisfaction. Salient individual (intra-personal) experiences included
personal goals, musical aspirations, escape from everyday responsibilities, self-discovery,
and individual satisfaction. Group (inter-personal) experiences, on the other hand,
included social goals, musical achievement, acceptance of shared responsibility, and
fiiendship and support. In short, Pitts’ informants were motivated by the premise of
creating an enriched version of themselves, yet the prospect of sharing that enriched
version through group interaction made this process even more meaningful.

Finally, MacLean (1981) ultimately offered that motivation for lifelong learning
“encompasses those experiences in any setting nurtured by any motivation, which
improves capabilities for developing one’s own personality and for integrating one’s
lifestyle with the human, natural, and social environments in which one chooses to live”
(1981, p. l). MacLean’s definition not only encapsulates a comprehensive impression of
motivation, but complements the precepts of andragogy as well. The aforementioned
research has several implications for improving classroom instruction and raising adults’

self-awareness and self-realization regarding specific motivational factors.

28

Cultural Influences on Motivation

Enviromnental and societal lenses have also had a profound impact on shaping
musical tastes and perceptions of musical function. Radocy and Boyle (1988)
summarized several key cultural components based on the writings of Merriman (1964)
and Gaston (1968). Merriman outlined the uses and functions of music and determined
that expression, entertainment, communication, symbolism, social stability, religion, and
the enforcement of social norms were among those factors most representative of musical
function in society. While Gaston’s considerations were similar to Merriman’s, the
former added the compelling notion that, while music may serve similar fimctions in
almost every culture, it is the cultural matrix, or one’s surroundings, that determines the
degree to which individuals identify and respond to their own music. In another model,
Sloboda (1985), later echoed by Dowling and Harwood (1986), summarized that
biological, evolutionary processes drive motivation and encourage musical participation
among human beings. Ultimately, it is the cultural schemas, those things that are learned
and handed down fi'om generation to generation, that impact potential receptiveness to
musical motivation and understanding. Thus far, this dissertation has presented a ‘
relatively Western view of motivation for musical participation. The cultural tenets
espoused by Merriman and Gaston can be clearly recognized in Western and non-
Westem schemes alike.

Small’s (1980) research on Balinese music reflected a deep pride for artistic
heritage. The arts are so engrained into Bali’s societal schema that there is no word for
art or artist (1980). The Balinese are motivated to do things as well as possible, and, even

though professional musicians are rare, the act of making music is no exception to that

29

rule. Small noted that circles of multi-generational gamelan orchestra members teach
each other and support one another in the community and take seriously the utilitarian
virtues of musical performance. Their cultural schema, in sharp contrast to the Western
posture, allows no room for the concept of tension and release in music, as Balinese
parents teach their children to respectfirlly resist heightened emotional responses.
Additionally, it was the Western influence of the mid-ZOm-century that altered the status
of live gamelan performance and relegated it to being a mere commodity (1980). On this
point, Small directed the reader’s attention to the paradoxical phenomena of using live
gamelan orchestras for tourism entertainment venues and of using recorded performances
for authentic Balinese ceremonies.

Smith (2001) observed the sociopolitical motivation of Haiti’s musical creativity
and discovered that the deep — and violent - rift between the elite and the peasantry
produces an ever-constant drive for exploiting that which is behaviorally possible. The art
of verbal banter, or the throwing of pwen (“points”) in a musical context, is the most
productive and recognized way for Haitians to express their concern over existing
conditions. These “musical machetes” (Smith, pg. 45) have been observed in numerous
contexts, including the agricultural work party, a Haitian refugee camp in Guantanamo
Bay, and in the recording studios’ rnizik rasin (“roots music”) that celebrates and draws
heavily upon the music of the peasantry (2001). McAlister (2002) pointed to several
examples of expressive Haitian musical behavior, such as the use of vulgarity in songs,
vodou connotations, anti-Semitic reactivity, transnational customs in New York City,
political reform, color bias, and the firndamental elements of work and play. Furthermore,

Averill (1997) discussed Haitian music in relation to the discourse of power and the

30

motivation of individuals in the recording industry who speak (sing) against Haitian
politics and the power struggle between the elite and the severely marginalized. Haitian
music is engrained into the culture, and, like Balinese music, is woven into daily life and
daily routines.

Nanongkham (2006) noted how the piphat ensembles of Thailand mirror the
overall Thai social system. Because the Thai culture is motivated to maintain an
interdependent society, the lower class depends on the upper class, and, in turn, the lower
class is protected by those in superior positions. Nanongkham believed the classical
piphat ensemble reflected this construct. Despite this paradigm that seems to be an
unmistakable norm in Thailand, the once-renown, royal piphat ensembles, like the
gamelans of Bali, are often consigned to performing background music at utilitarian
events, such as receptions and dinners, hotel entertainment venues, and Thai boxing
matches. The Westemization of Thailand in the last century has positioned the traditional
piphat ensemble in a somewhat precarious role within the culture.

These examples certainly speak to the cultural functions of music set forth by
Merriman (1964) and Gaston (1968). The expressive, communicative, religious, and
symbolic properties Merriman asserts are evident, and Gaston’s argument regarding the
cultural matrix and its influence on the mode of expression is palpable in the case of
Haiti’s political volatility. While this case may not directly speak to Merriman’s tenet of
music’s ability to stabilize a culture, it is perhaps the instability of Haiti that has steadied
the country’s musical expressiveness and freedoms.

Motivational research poses several implications for acknowledging cultural

schemas, improving classroom instruction, and providing the basis for raising students’

31

self-awareness regarding motivational factors that contribute to their own study of music.
Music participation affords teachers with a framework for suiting the needs and
motivations of a growing population of adult learners whose artistic, creative, and
spiritual needs are fulfilled through musical activity. It is advisable for students and
teachers to be cognizant of developing and maintaining flexible teaching strategies that
provide social engagement, cultural awareness, multifaceted modes of learning, and
tenets of traditional music education.

The review of literature in this chapter suggests that music does have a perceived
impact on the health and wellness of the body, mind, and spirit. Because there are
psychological, social, and cognitive developments that occur cyclically and regularly in
life, it would be fair to assume, then, that individuals may experience a heightened degree
of feeling and understanding from musical activity. Perhaps this prospect will in some
way assist researchers and music educators in evaluating adult music instruction and in
developing a conceivable framework for additional, comprehensive studies. The
motivations and ideals surrounding the constructs of adult learning and andragogy have
changed dramatically over several hundred years; it may behoove music educators to

recognize and explore the evolution of andragogy’s provocative, yet controversial history.

Historical Placement of Andragogy
The term andragogy has appeared in various countries and has possessed different
connotations in each of them (Reischmann, 2004). According to Reischmann (2004), one
of the world’s most celebrated and distinguished authorities on adult education, three

popular definitions of andragogy exist. First, andragogy has been categorized as the

32

scholarly approach to how adults learn. In this paradigm, it is viewed as the science of
understanding (theory) and supporting (practice) the education of adults for a lifetime. A
second definition is that andragogy is based on the hypothesis that adults are self-directed
and autonomous learners and that teachers are the facilitators of learning, not the leaders.
This is a particularly North American approach to andragogy and one that will be
discussed further in the following pages. A third, more unstable definition is that
andragogy is an unclear term with an unclear purpose whose meaning can change within
a single educational publication and whose varying terminology is incapable of
accurately describing adult education (2004). Given that cultural and provincial schemas
have influenced the numerous contexts in which andragogy exists, a uniform definition
has yet to be found, which, consequently, may explain andragogy’s tumultuous and
ambiguous evolution through multiplicitous definitions and meanings.

The roots of ancient education are beset with significant figures who, primarily,
were teachers of adults, not juveniles. Gradually, though, a teacher-centered approach
was adopted, whereby students were subjected to mandated instruction, assuming the
term pedagogy, or the art and science of teaching children. (The Greek stem paid means
child, and agogus means leader of). (Knowles, 1984). According to Knowles, pedagogy
was “the millstone around education’s neck” (p. 42) that forever altered the course of
learning:

I believe that the cultural lag in education can be explained by the fact that

we got hemmed in from the beginning of the development of our education

systems by the assumption about learning that were made when the

education of children became organized in the Middle Ages. . .Tragically,

33

the earlier traditions of teaching and learning were aborted and lost with the

fall of Rome; for all the great teachers of ancient history — Lao Tse and

Confucious in China, the Hebrew prophets, Jesus, Socrates, Plato, Aristotle,

Euclid, Cicero, Qunitilian — were chiefly teachers of adults, not children (p.

42).
Knowles (1984) then traced the development of monastic schools established by
European cathedrals and churches, when church doctrines and morals were taught and
instilled among pupils and whereby the “pagan” beliefs of self-discovery and “learning
by doing” were stifled (p. 42).

In general, andragogy has been a highly debated concept for nearly two centuries.
(The Greek stem aner means man, “as distinguished from boy”) (Knowles, p. 43). This
theory of adult education was expanded by and is currently studied within general
education arenas, but has been disproportionately understated in regard to music
education. While the construct of adult music education is not a new one, the term
andragogy does not often appear within music education research. In order to more fully
understand the principles of andragogy and to determine its applicability, if any, to music,
it will be important to investigate the historical contexts of this intriguing, yet contentious

term.

The First Appearance in Print
Reischmann (2004) conducted exhaustive research on the history of andragogy.
Initially, it was Alexander Kapp, a German high school teacher, who first used the term

andragogik in his 1833 publication, Platon ’s Erziehungslehre (Plato ’s Educational

34

Ideas), which paid homage to Platonic idealism and educational morality. Nearly halfway
through the book, Kapp placed his chapter entitled Die Andragogik oder Bildung im
mannlich Alter (Andragogy or Education in the Man ’s Age), and, in sixty pages,
described the need for lifelong learning in all people. He argued that education, self-
reflection, and nurturing the character are the first values in human life, and that repeating
these patterns continually influences one’s moral fiber and objectifies competencies.
While this was the first time andragogik was captured in print, Kapp did not explain if he
invented the word or borrowed it, and he did not provide a theoretical framework for
implementing adult education. He did, however, promote lifelong learning and claimed it
was a necessity in life (Knowles, 1984; Reischmann, 2004; Smith, 1999).

Between 1820 and 1840, European and American cultures were already interested
in adult learning, which had become a popular commodity. It was during this time that
Europe’s workers’ education programs, the educational work of churches, the
enlightenment movement, and reading societies flourished. Simultaneously, town
libraries and museums in America were thriving, and the addition of Boston’s Lowell
Institute and the Franklin Institute in Philadelphia left an indelible mark on life-wide
education (Reischmann, 2004). As a result, an additional term to define adult learning
during this time was not needed, and, consequently, Kapp and his term faded fiom

society.

The Second and Third Inventions of A ndragogy (Term used by Reischmann, 2004)
After nearly 60 years of dormancy, adult education experienced a theoretical

revival in 1920 Germany. Groups of scholars revitalized the term andragogik and

35

developed a practice known as Neue Richtung, or the New Direction, in educating adults
(Reischmann, 2004). Although the why, what for, and how of teaching adults was
discussed in this docmnent, a methodological approach was not prescribed. Lindman
(1926), in an example indicative of andragogy’s controversial ambiguity, mistakenly
referred to andragogik as an actual method of instructing adults during his tenure at

F rankfurt’s Academy of Labor. Lindman, incidentally, was also responsible for bringing
the term andragogik to North America. Although an academic, scholarly approach to
andragogik loomed in the distance, workers in adult education were disparate,
individualistic, and not yet affiliated with university support, and, because of its highly
theoretical and undefined meaning, andragogik was once again forgotten for nearly 30
years (Reischmann, 2004).

The third invention occurred in the 19503 when andragogic publications began
appearing in Switzerland, Yugoslavia, Hungary, the Netherland, and Germany. Despite
this activity, the notion of andragogik was still known only to insiders and was not yet
accessible to, or accepted by, other scholars. Because the conventional, historical
foundations had long been forgotten, no continuity existed in educating adults, educating
teachers of adults, or developing stable curricula. At this point in time, adult education
reflected a non-defined, amorphous mixture of theory, practice, and musings. This
instability warranted an eventual differentiation between “doing” and “reflecting” within

the practices of adult education (Reischmann, 2004).

36

Identity Achieved

In 1967, Malcolm Knowles, Director of Adult Education at Boston University,
was approached by Duscan Savicevic, a Yugoslavian adult educator, at an adult
education conference. It was there that Knowles was first introduced to the word
androgogy. (This was how Knowles initially chose to spell the term.) Knowles’
fascination with this new word prompted him to further investigate adult learning and
understanding, and in the subsequent publication of his 1968 article, “Andragogy, Not
Pedagogy,” he made sharp distinctions between pedagogy and andragogy. His views also
emphasized the principle of self-directed learnedness among students and a mode of
facilitation among teachers. These ideas and concepts gradually spread throughout North
America and other English-speaking countries (Jarvis, 1997; Knowles, 1978; Merriam,
1999; Reischmann, 2004; Savicevic, 1999). Knowles’ Farewell to Pedagogy! appeared in
1970 and provided guidance to adult educators who otherwise had never received formal
instruction in' adult education experiences. Now, theory and practice (“science and art”)
were merging and creating new shape, structure, and guidance to this nebulous,
previously undefined construct Others, though, did not agree with Knowles’ definition of
andragogy and criticized his work, claiming it was reductionistic and particularly limited
(Merriam & Caffarella, 1999; Reischmann, 2004; Savicevic, 1999; Smith, 1999). In fact,
Dutch scholar van Gent (1996) claimed that Knowles’ work was a “specific, prescriptive
approach” (Reischmann, 2004), which may be seen in Knowles’ definition of adulthood:
Andragogy assumes that the point at which an individual achieves a self-concept
of essential self-direction is the point at which he psychologically becomes adult.

A very critical thing happens when this occurs: the individual develops a deep

37

psychological need to be perceived by others as being self-directing. Thus, when
he finds himself in a situation in which he is not allowed to be self-directing, he
experiences a tension between that situation and his self-concept. His reaction is
bound to be tainted with resentment and resistance (Knowles, 1978, p. 56).

After having attended to the criticisms of his contemporaries who appealed for a
new definition of andragogy, Knowles softened his posture in 1980. It was at this point
that he relinquished the notion of adult exclusiveness and deemed andragogy as the
process of self-directed learning. In fact, the author retracted his earlier stance regarding
the disparity between pedagogy and andragogy, writing that he should have used the
phrase “on the way from pedagogy to andragogy” (Knowles, 1979). Knowles’ expanded
meaning of this concept now included teaching and learning styles rather than a
prescribed specialized set of learning criteria determined by one’s age. In order to better
understand this new model, it will be important to outline Knowles’ basic assumptions of
adult learning and to report the resultant discussions lead by his critics. Considered by
some to be the father of modern andragogy (Smith, 1999), Knowles created four original
assumptions regarding adult learners. A fifth assumption was added some time later. It is
this set of assumptions that has sparked educational debate, discussion, and calls for

reform in adult learning:

Knowles Assumptions

1) Self-concept: As a person matures, his self-concept moves from one of
being a dependent personality toward one of being a self—directed human

being.

38

2) Experience: As a person matures, he accumulates a growing reservoir

of experience that becomes an increasing resource for learning.

3) Readiness to learn: As a person matures, his readiness to learn becomes

oriented increasingly to the development tasks of his social roles.

4) Orientation to learning: As a person matures, his time perspective

changes from one of postponed application of knowledge to immediacy of

application, and, accordingly, his orientation toward learning shifts from

one of subjective-centeredness to one of problem-centeredness.

5) Motivation to learn: As a person matures, the motivation to learn is

internal (Knowles, 1984, p. 12).

The presentation of these assumptions produced a striking rift between pedagogy
and andragogy, and its principles are still highly debatable. Critiques of Knowles’ work
and his five assumptions are fecund within educational literature. With regard to his first
assumption, self-concept, critics believed that children may also be self-directed learners
and that learning comes naturally to them and that it can be spontaneous. Brookfield
(1986) noted the writings of Piaget, Erikson, Dewey, and Montessori that address this
issue of self-directed behavior in children. Other opponents believed this particular
assumption was a culturally bound, patriarchal, North American mindset that is not
evident in all cultures. In contrast, Nah (1999) suggested that, although the concept of
self—directed learning changes from culture to culture, cross-cultural applicability is still a
viable incidence.

Critics in opposition to experience believed that not all learning is best achieved

through experimental, problem-solving ways (Brookfield, 1986; Smith, 1999). The

39

growth of technology and new information often positions learners in lecture-oriented
and teacher-centered courses of instruction, suggesting that not all adult learning is
conducted andragogically. Furthermore, past experience may not always lend itself to
enhanced learning, as children’s learning experiences may be no less significant than
adults’. While it is true that children have smaller reservoirs of experience, this does not
indicate that their learning events are less meaningful (Smith, 1999). Correspondingly,
Dewey (193 3) believed that, educationally, age and the amount of experience make no
meaningful difference in one’s learning.

In terms of readiness to learn, it is believed that children also have to perform and
uphold social roles (Tennant, 1988). Brookfield (1986) believed this assumption was an
oversimplification on Knowles’ part and that it could be misinterpreted as a reductionist
view, whereby the parts of learning become a series of steps, such as those found in skill-
based models. He believed Knowles neglected the component of learning through the .
enjoyment that educational opportunities afford. Humphries (1988) suggested that
Knowles’ use of the term “social roles” has the potential to reproduce oppressive forms
of social labeling, and feminist writings have accused Knowles of overlooking the power
and learning needs of women (Tisdell, 1993).

Knowles viewed orientation to learning as an acquired trait, not a natural one,
and believed that adults have a greater need for immediacy in their learning than children.
Tennant (1988) argued that the reverse is true, in that adults have the capacity to accept a
postponed application of knowledge until such time as it is put to use or is needed.
Brookfield (1986) also disagreed with Knowles’ focus on problem-centeredness and

suggested that adults gain pleasure from learning things in which no specific goal is set.

40

Reischmann (2004) refers to this as “partly-intentional or non-intentional” learning,
whereby knowledge is circurnstantially acquired through non—conventional, informal, and
often unexpected means.

Because Knowles focused primarily on age and stage of development, he did not
view the motivation to learn as an organic process, but, rather, as a conditioned response
through formal learning environments (Smith, 1999). While Tennant (1988) believed this
was a utilitarian approach to learning, Hanson (1996) argued that this highlighted the
relationship between individuals and society. Ultimately, Davenport (1987) made an
appeal for educators to redefine andragogy by monitoring its evolution through empirical

means and by closely managing the discussion and debate regarding adult learning.

Summary

It is undeniable that Knowles’ principles surrounding andragogy forced educators
to evaluate their perspectives regarding adult learners. The overarching criticism of his
work is that his set of assumptions is but one concept that is extremely general and reliant
on its historic context of the time. Others attack Knowles’ offensive posture initially
taken against pedagogy and pedagogues. Alliances were broken, and those who did not
share in andragogic perceptions, according to Knowles, would be lost to the knowledge
afforded by andragogy (Reischmann, 2004; Smith, 1999).

Knowles’ teachings were not — and still are not — as popular in Europe as they are
in North America (Reischmann, 2004; Smith, 1999). European views tend to be more
philosophically diverse and include numerous learning theories and strategies. In fact,

European authors often use the expression “adult education” or “adult pedagogy,” instead

41

of “andragogy” (Reischmann, 2004). Reischmann also noted that the International
Society for Comparative Adult Education currently defines andragogy as a “scholarly
approach” and adult education as a “field of practice” (2004).

Because it does not explain how or why adults learn, Knowles’ theory has been
said to exist as only a set of assumptions and not a true theory of adult learning (Knowles,
1984; Smith, 1999). Some believe that andragogy gained popularity at a given time in
history and that it speaks more about that moment than it does about the learning process
itself (Jarvis, 1995; Smith, 1999). While exclusive use of the term andragogy may be, at
best, unsubstantiated, Knowles’ concept was a thought-provoking and creative approach
that engaged educators in healthy debate regarding appropriate measures within adult
education. As a result of this dialogue, several international publications and institutes of
adult learning devoted to andragogic theory have appeared worldwide, including
programs in Europe, Canada, the United States, Africa, Venezuela, South Korea, Estonia,
Serbia, the Czech Republic, and Slovenia (Reischmann, 2004).

Pedagogical approaches have traditionally been employed in music education
classrooms. In many cases, independent musicianship is not fully achieved, because
students may become dependent on the instructor. While it is undeniable that pedagogic
techniques, such as teaching posture, fingerings, breathing, notation, counting, and
forming and maintaining an embouchure must be used in teaching an individual of any
age to play an instrument, self-initiated musical behaviors may indicate that andragogic,
self-directed thought patterns have been assimilated.

Knowles’ later definition of andragogy, that it is, in fact, self-directed learning,

may be of great benefit for music teachers. Using this as a starting point for discussion, it

42

is feasible that teaching and learning styles can be placed on a continuum, or a sliding
scale, with andragogical facilitation on one end, and pedagogical teaching on the other.
This visual representation may be a useful model for music educators, as much of
teaching that takes place in a successful music classroom may continually and artistically
shift between teacher-centered and student-centered activities. This model provides the
compelling (and refreshing) notion that while pedagogical techniques may be used with
the most aged of learners, andragogical techniques may be used with the youngest.
Despite the attack on Knowles’ work, andragogy continues to provide implications for
current use as a basis for adult educators and their students to maintain healthy dialogue.
As mentioned earlier in this chapter, andragogy, for the purposes of this research,
will be defrned as any self-directed learning behaviors that may indicate that independent
musicianship has evolved and has manifested itself in self-goveming actions in respect to
specific musical settings. While early definitions of andragogy, like those of Knowles,
are specific to the adult population, I submit in this dissertation that andragogical
behaviors may be observable in students of any age if conditions are such that these
behaviors are encouraged and nurtured by instructors. Additionally, viewing andragogy
as a style of learning may be helpful in realizing that there may be ways of learning not
reliant on age or experience and through which students of any age may be able to make
independent, age-appropriate decisions regarding their own leaming. Nevertheless, adult
learners may be the best models we have for exploring this type of learning. This notion,
then, becomes an essential component in examining the definition of music education and

in crafting a philosophy of teaching adult learners in music.

43

 

Philosophies of Education and Adult Learning
“Shefinished high school with honors! Then Business College gave her training in six
months and she started out to beat typewriters for a living. Fine! But Susie was
temperamental. Grinding drudgery might do for the type of girl whose only aim is an
early marriage. For Susie it was killing So Sister Susie ‘took up the saxophone. ’ Now
she was an average girl. You could never call her gifted or talented. But within a week
she was playing tunes and in six months she could handle her saxophone like a veteran
Then things happened. First, a little club orchestra Next, a local sextette. Then some
home town ‘entertainment’ — a sharp-eyed scout from a well-known booking office — a
contact -— and little Miss Susie hit the ‘big time’ vaudeville, drawing down as much cash
weekly as the salaries of half a dozen stenographers Only Buescher assures success!”
(Mark, 2002, pp. 106-107).

Unsubstantiated philosophies of education often contain inaccurate assumptions
about learning, the motivation behind that learning, and the outcomes associated with the
didactic process. The absurdity of the 1928 Buescher saxophone advertisement above
brings to the forefront the importance of fashioning a well-defined, well-crafted
philosophy of adult music education. Such a philosophy, then, might guide thinking and
instruction and may be impervious to others’ attempts to place a disproportionate amount
of emphasis on those factors that may or may not have a direct influence on the learning
process and future achievement of its participants.

Philosophies can be created to serve several purposes and to encompass a wide
array of individuals, groups, and beliefs. Traditionally, philosophies have been used to
unite those within a profession and to ground the behaviors of those in that profession
with a set of guiding principles that provides awareness of the past and direction for the
future. While Reimer (1989) noted that any philosophy possesses limitations, he
concurrently purported that it “must be conceived as being ‘of a time,’” and that it “must

also give recognition to the fact that it can only provide a point of departure for

practitioners of that time” (pp. 2-3). Given andragogy’s nebulous history, the notion of

reevaluating and redefining the principles of adult music education among both
practitioners and students may be an important step in advancing philosophical thought
within our current situation.

As stated at the onset of this chapter, the percentage of the population represented
by older adults will continue to rise, which suggests that adults may be seeking
educational opportunities to improve their quality of life. Rapid technological advances in
society have shifted attention onto meeting the learning needs and interests of all ages,
and the convenience and abundance of global information that exists today contributes to
the desire and demand for self-discovery learning. This, then, supplies the impetus for
creating an innovative philosophy for adult music education and necessitates the
development of a flexible, adaptable philosophy in a shifting society.

In order to construct a viable framework for forming a philosophy of music
education for adults, it is important to emphasize the philosophical writings of several
individuals who have mused over the ramifications of music meaning and the purposes of
music in society. Additionally, central principles to consider in crafting an adult
philosophy of music education will be presented, both from the perspective of the adult
learner and from that of the teacher, as well as the inherent values of such a philosophy

and those that may be acquired through its use.

Philosophical Beliefs Regarding Education
“The philosopher sees the problem of adult learning from the point of view that
‘civilization is a race between education and catastrophe’” (Knowles, 1950, p. 6). The

foundations of educational philosophy have historically been rooted in two primary areas

45

of thought (Knowles, 1950). One concept of educational philosophy is the notion that
education is an instrument of social development, whereby education may be valued for
its effect on improving society and those in it. This model endeavors to generate
individuals who are productive, contributing members of society who follow the
guidelines and cultural patterns established by that society. The primary objective, then,
is to create a pliable educational philosophy that bends in relation to an ever-changing
world. A second concept of educational philosophy is the idea of improving the
individual person. In this model, it is the development of character, intellect, physicality,
and respect within the person that ultimately creates beauty, goodness, balance, and truth
within and among peoples everywhere and at all times (Knowles, 1950).

Plato, epitomizing the two tenets of educational philosophy as described above,
argued that music is good for both the individual and for society. In Republic, the ancient
philosopher espoused that music creates a good person, stating that anyone surrounded by
music “would praise beautiful things and take delight in them” and that the listener would
subsequently become “beautiful and good” himself (Mark, 2002, p. 6). Plato also
acknowledged that transcending the mechanics of music results in a deeper understanding
of emotion, passion, and sentiment, which can be commonly-held beliefs among music
philosophers:

Then, by heaven, am I not right in saying that by the same token we shall

never be true musicians, either - neither we nor the guardians that we have

undertaken to educate — until we are able to recognize the forms of

sobemess, courage, liberality, and high-mindedness, and all their kindred

and their opposites, too, in all the combinations that contain and convey

46

then, and to apprehend them and their images wherever found,

disregarding them neither in trifles nor in great things, but believing the

knowledge of them to belong to the same art and discipline? (Mark, p. 7)

Similarly, Dewey drew a distinction between technicians and artists, stating that,
while an artist may not possess technical prowess, there may also be a technician who is
void of artistry: “Mere perfection. . .can probably be attained better by a machine than by
human art” (Ross, 1994, p. 207). Addressing the internal, emotional facet of creating art,
Dewey warned that the artist “must care deeply for the subject matter upon which skill is
exercised” (p. 207).

Adult education programs have traditionally embraced the first philosophy, the
improvement of humanity, due, in large part, to the inclusive, comprehensive nature of its
principles and its focus on societal productivity. As Knowles espoused, adult education is
“the instrument by which we can produce mature people, and through them, mature
society” (p. 8). Still, it is vital for adult educators to periodically evaluate existing
philosophies and to redirect or redefine certain characteristics within those beliefs in
order to align themselves (and their students) with the desired individual or communal
goals. It is perhaps by reflecting on influential writings in music philosophy that leaders
of adult students may be able create their own cohesive philosophy of teaching by
defining the value systems associated with musical participation. Additionally, many of
the selected writings contain similar themes, including democracy in education (Alperson,
1987; Knowles, 1950, 1973; Ross, 1994; Woodford, 2005), the value and importance of
acquiring experience (Elliott, 1995; Ross, 1994), and the opportunity to submit oneself to

musical expression (Alperson, 1987; Elliott, 1995; Reimer, 1989).

47

Philosophical Beliefs Regarding Music

In these days, when we have forgotten or abandoned the idea that the fine

arts make a specific sort of contribution to the formation of the mind, we

may find ourselves wondering what the purpose and scope of a general

theory of the arts, or of music, could possibly be (Alperson, 1987, p. 36).

While Francis Sparschott posed several thoughts regarding the aesthetics and
meanings of music in Aesthetics of Music: Limits and Grounds (Alperson, 1987), he
maintained that the arts contribute to life, which has been an important consideration in
adult education. Purporting that music has been connected with philosophical theory from
its beginnings, Sparschott spoke to music’s expressive components, acknowledging, as
did Plato, that emotions have historically incorporated thoughts of music. This provides
strong implications for not only maintaining a philosophy of adult music education, but
creating one that is conducive to and respectful of historic perspectives of emotion. In
addition, because of the primordial relationship between music and emotion, the mere
idea of one being irrelevant to the other is, according to Sparschott, “ludicrous”
(Alperson, p. 38). Finally, the philosopher addressed the importance of respecting and
appreciating the inherent goodness found within music, and in his final statement,
extolled and promoted the role of music in society by declaring that music “becomes a
‘ celebration of community” (p. 41).

In a similar vein, Alperson (1987) himself set out to answer whether music could
be defined as a philosophical art and spoke to the concepts of expression in performance
and to one’s position within the community. He acknowledged the metaphysical issue of

“human thought and action, such as the nature of the self or person, freedom, immortality,

48

God and the place of human beings within the general scheme of things” (p. 196).
Additionally, Alperson addressed Sparschott’s argument regarding the ability of musical
performance to transport humans to an “alternate world of autonomous meaning” that, in
turn, generates for people alternative realities and alternative ways of existing in the
world (p. 200). Here, again, philosophical thought is directed toward the multifaceted
roles individuals may have in both small- and large-scale societal constructs and toward
the self-directed, self-selected actions people elect. This line of thought not only reflects
the historical foundations of adult education programs but also embodies the
characteristics and behaviors of adult learners. Lastly, Alperson concluded that music
must, indeed, be considered a philosophy, as the driving force behind music results in
“personal experiences of music,” whereby inspiration may be used to generate numerous
perspectives and theories (p. 206). The aforementioned musings avowed by Sparschott
and Alperson are perhaps some of the most remarkable philosophies devoted to music
and community.

Often, philosophical thought emerges following an examination of established
practices or entrenched beliefs. Perhaps some of the most insightful thoughts regarding
successful adult teaching can be taken from the writings of Dewey (193 3). This
philosopher drew a distinction between traditional educational practices and those of his
own. Evident are the differences he made between teacher-centered approaches and
student-centered activities, concepts that have been vigorously debated in music
education:

To imposition fi'om above is opposed expression and cultivation of

individuality; to external discipline is opposed free activity; to learning

49

from texts and teacher, learning through experience; to acquisition of

isolated skills and techniques by drill, is opposed acquisition of the means

of attaining ends which make direct vital appeal; to preparation for a more

or less remote future is opposed making the most of the opportunities of

present life; to static aims and materials is opposed acquaintance with a

changing world (Dewey, pp. 5-6).

Dewey’s philosophy of teaching was structured around several fundamental
concepts, including experience, democracy, continuity, and interaction (Knowles, 1973).
In regard to experience, a predominant theme throughout education philosophies, Dewey
suggested that one’s education is heightened through one’s experience, and that the
central problem in education is to “select the kind of present experiences that live
fruitfully and creatively in subsequent experiences” (Dewey, 1933, pp. 16-17).
Experience is perhaps one of the most compelling principles sustaining lifelong education
and the cultivation of a philosophy regarding adult education in music. Dewey further
wrote that art “unites the very same relation of doing and undergoing, outgoing and
incoming energy that makes an experience to be an experience” (Ross, 1994, p. 208). In
essence, the act of doing or creating is an artistic endeavor when and only when the
product itself is perceived to emulate the original intent of the creation. This, especially,
has implications for adult music education, for, when a performer’s investment for
participating is genuine and respectful, the foundation for creating an artistic endeavor —
in this case, music — may be realized.

Dewey’s second concept, democracy, is closely linked to that of experience. He

argued that democratic structures “promote a better quality of human experience” and

50

 

that, in contrast to anti—democratic forms of social life, enjoyment can be accessible for
anyone (p. 24). Next, his striking concept of continuity in education complements the
Platonic implications of morality of the self, speaking to lifelong learning and the
prospect of deepening reservoirs of experience:

The principle of continuity of experience means that every experience

both takes up something from those which have gone before and modifies

in some way the quality of those which come after. Growth, or growing

and developing, not only physically but intellectually and morally, is one

exemplification of the principle of continuity (Dewey, 1933, pp. 27-28).

For Dewey, interaction is a final component in educational experience that
“assigns equal rights to both factors of experience — objective and internal conditions” (p.
38). Dewey maintained that traditional education limits the emphasis placed on the
internal issues within individuals by placing a disproportionate amount of energy and
focus on the external conditions of learning. With this in mind, Dewey noted that
“experience occurs continuously” (Ross, 1994, p. 205), which supports the claim that
adults’ life experience readies them for future learning. In this model, experiences and
life events become additive over time and subsequently prepare the learner for a richer,
more sophisticated way of experiencing things. In relation to the arts, Dewey believed
that an artistic product will be misunderstood, underappreciated, and possibly
misrepresented unless the artist’s experience is acknowledged as being inherent in the

work.

51

 

Perspectives and Values on 0 Philosophy of Adult Music Education

It is through the beliefs of the aforementioned philosophers — as well as countless
others not mentioned in this document — that the creation of a music education
philosophy for adult learners becomes both a possibility and a necessity. While Reimer
(1989) duly noted that any philosophy is limited by time, there historically have been
reoccurring trends in adult education that have remained steadfast and noteworthy. These
themes may, in turn, serve to establish value systems within a philosophy for adult
learners.

For instructors of adult students in music, a philosophy that speaks to the
democratic learning undertaken by people may be one viable consideration. According to
Knowles (1950), a democratic philosophy is described as “a concern for the development
of persons, a deep conviction as to the worth of every individual, and faith in the ability
of groups of people to reach wise decisions” (p. 169). While many of the philosophical
principles discussed in this document are aligned with this type of thinking, Knowles
continued by saying that a democratic philosophy “puts people ahead of things” (p. 169).
In a profession where the thing in question is typically a musical product — a performance,
concert, or composition — music instructors have historically placed more emphasis on
quality performances than on the performers themselves. The music instructor of adult
learners must be cognizant of the developmental needs of adult musicians and allow for
freedom, teamwork, and cooperative learning in a philosophy of music education,
whereby participatory benefits such as self-esteem and a sense of belonging may, at times,

outweigh the quality of musical performances.

52

Other, more rational principles regarding adult music education reside in
acknowledging that learners come voluntarily and, therefore, must be provided with clear
direction for music learning and performing. Additionally, the rewards learners
experience create an ongoing personal responsibility to the collective, and the more
active the students become, the more likely they are to learn. Because adults learn by
associating a new experience with a previous one, it would benefit instructors of adult
learners to relate their instruction to these markers. As Knowles (1973) stated, “teaching
starts where the student is and continues to focus on him” (p. 32).

For adult learners, a philosophy of music education may, as Knowles (1950)
recommended, require Dewey’s process of learning: need, effort, and satisfaction.
Initially, an adult’s first requirement is that he or she wants to learn. The learner, then,
has a specific objective in mind and wants to acquire the knowledge or skills associated
with that objective. This becomes need. An adult in this position may be more attracted to
educational programs that cater to structured learning environments (formal or informal)
rather than programs that may not recognize the importance of such developmental needs.

The principle of eflort implies that learning is an activity that gradume draws the
learner to a deeper level of understanding through successive experiences (1950). Again,
the more meaningful the opportunity, the more the student may want to learn.
Passiveness in this process is not conducive to learning, and it is only when learners
become engaged that knowledge is acquired.

An additional requirement fi'om an adult’s perspective is that of satisfaction. After
the need for learning has been defined and alter the effort has been put forth, satisfaction,

then, is attained when the learner recognizes his or her own progress or when teachers

53

and peers acknowledge improvement. To this extent, learning must be based on
meaningful, real experiences that satisfy the need to know. Elliott (1995) noted
Aristotle’s “need to know” theory regarding human tendencies, saying that “human
beings seek self-esteem and happiness more than anything else” (p. 119). Additionally,
Knowles (1950) stated that learning

starts with a need — the desire to satisfy body needs, the desire to get along

with others, the desire to know, or the desire to become something better.

This need motivates us to seek a situation in which to satisfy the need. . .(p.

22).

An introspective philosophy of music education for adults may provide its
learners and instructors with purpose and direction for meeting the needs, expectations,
and desires of participants. The aspiration to become a better person has traditionally
been in the forefront of adult education, and adult music participation may serve as a
medium for what Reimer (1989) called “philosophical inner peace” (p. 3) within music
education.

Elliott (1995) concluded that, in terms of education’s erudite and documented
lineage, “most Western countries have a strong rhetorical commitment to a balanced
education for the whole child, including a commitment to arts education, physical and
health education, moral education, and the development of character” (p. 298). These
immortal themes have perpetually influenced educational writers, philosophers, teachers,
and students, and possess strong implications for developing a philosophy of music
education for adults. While discerning the appropriate balance in such a philosophy is

ultimately up to the adult instructor, music educators must take into consideration the

54

expressive and creative needs of a rising population of adult learners. Elliott’s words

allude to a paucity of research investigating andragogy in relation to music learning.

Purpose and Problems

This dissertation seeks to address the need for an informed awareness of adult
learning in music by investigating adult musicians in two communities in North America
— Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, and East Lansing, Michigan — and to investigate the
various methods that adults use in learning to play music instruments. Additionally, the
teaching and learning tendencies associated with adult learning in music may contribute
to the body of literature that exists regarding andragogy, thus broadening the scale of its
often confined, isolated contexts. With the intent of improving instruction as it relates to
the learning tendencies and needs of adult musicians, the purpose of this research is to
investigate the historical ideologies of andragogy with a contemporary application of its

tenets to Canadian and American models of music learning among adults.

The problems of this study are as follows:

1) To tell the stories of Canadian and American adult musicians who have been
motivated to perform in an instrumental ensemble,

2) To suggest that what we know and what we learn about adult learning may be used in
fostering pre-adult learning frmctions among school music students in order to reevaluate
how children are socialized musically, and,

3) To provide the impetus for lifelong learning by discussing teaching approaches for

bridging the gap between schools and communities.

55

Secondary questions will include:

a) Why do Cosmopolitan Music Society and New Horizons Band adult
instrumentalists choose to play with community ensembles? What meaning
does it hold for them?

b) What role does band participation play in the lives of these adults?

c) What learning strategies do adults use in acquiring musical skills? In the
rehearsal room? At home? In chamber groups?

d) What benefits do adults experience through their self-selected participation in
a community ensemble?

e) What pedagogical and andragogical processes are at work during band
instruction? What is the relationship of pedagogical band instruction to
andragogical band instruction? What do these models look like?

f) How are andragogy, pedagogy, formal learning, and informal learning
manifested in music learning? In what way(s) do the precepts of andragogy
relate to music instruction?

g) How do adults view their own learning? What guidance do they provide to the
music education profession?

In essence, examining what compels adult musicians to pursue performance

opportunities may provide teachers and students with insight to the following question:

Does looking ahead help us look back?

56

CHAPTER II

REVIEW OF RELATED RESEARCH

In the previous chapter, the scarcity of research related to andragogy and its
applications to music was discussed. Although a number of journal articles addressed the
matter of enhanced learning among adults, community music participation, and health
benefits associated with music participation, there remain only a handful of highly
focused studies that address the issues of andragogy and music; therefore, the related
research for this dissertation falls into three primary categories: systems of lifelong
learning and arts participation, gerontology and the fine arts, and ethnographic studies in

community settings.

Systems of Lifelong Learning and Arts Participation

Lyons (1988) investigated cooperative learning instructional designs within adult
education programs and examined their subsequent effect on motivation for continued
learning. According to Lyons, an optimal instructional design is “intended to maximize
the effectiveness of instruction for both the learner and the instructor” (1998, abstract),
thereby integrating group study, collaboration, assessment, task specialization, and
synergy. The latter term was also embraced by Reimer (2003), who alluded to the
synergism, or the “working (or acting) together” (p. 30) experienced by cooperative, not

oppositional, learning, thinking, and acting.

57

In an attempt to facilitate a salient connection between emotion and learning
through experiencing movement, Bartal (2003) promoted a holistic approach to lifelong
learning that incorporated painting, kinesthetic movement, and music. In fact, Eccles and
Elster (2005) discussed the arts-focused approach adopted by the forged partnership
between Canada’s Royal Conservatory of Music and the Toronto District School Board.
Established in 1994, the Learning Through the ArtsTM (LTTA) program endeavored to
infuse the arts into public schools by supplying resident painters, actors, musicians, and
writers to enhance educational curricula. The authors concluded that the fine arts afford
students multifaceted faculties, including compassion in facing diversity, the ability to
adapt to change and/or new information, an increased acceptance for ambiguity, and a
self-sustained desire for lifelong learning (2005). According to their results, Eccles and
Elster reported that the UTA program was a significant contributor to student
achievement and teacher vitality. Consequently, research studies on how the fine arts
I affect the quality of life and the learning process are not isolated phenomena. To date, the
most compelling research in the United States that points to this idea stems item the 1992
Survey of Public Participation in the Arts (SPPA92).

Bergonzi and Smith (1996) investigated the effects of arts education on the level
of participation in the arts among Americans. Using the results fi'om the National
Endowment for the Arts SPPA92, which included a sample size of 12,736 respondents,
the authors reported remarkable findings regarding the effects of both school-based and
community-based arts education on three dimensions of arts participation: attendance,
production, and accessing the arts via media (1996). Participation activities were

subsequently categorized as either consumptive (attendance and media-accessed

58

participation) or productive (creating and performing) in nature, and both were deemed as
dynamic, non-passive actions (1996). Specifically, the focus of the study centered on (1)
whether people became more actively involved in the arts as a consequence of arts
education, (2) whether arts education reduced or contributed to arts participation with
respect to socioeconomic status, gender, race, or ethnicity, (3) whether there was a
difference between arts education, which is based in the schools, and that which is based
in the community, and (4) whether arts education or general education had the greater
impact on increasing active participation in the arts (1996).

The findings of the study were reported in six major categories: art attendance,
arts accessed through audio media, arts accessed through video media, arts accessed
through print and print-related media, arts creation, and arts performance. Results
suggested that, in terms of arts attendance, men and women were equally likely to attend
a museum exhibit or a dance, opera, or drama performance, although a busier lifestyle
was attributed to a reduction in arts attendance. Not surprisingly, those who received
more arts education were nearly four times more likely to attend arts performances than
those with less arts education.

With regard to audio and video media, African Americans had the broadest
listening habits, while Asians and whites shared similar, more mainstreamed listening
tastes. Furthermore, arts education was found to be the most important factor in
predicting this type of arts participation, even when differences in personal background
were taken into account. In fact, arts education was the only predictor of Americans’
propensity to watch arts programming on television or through the use of video tapes.

The authors noted that the variables used in this study did little to predict this particular

59

form of arts participation; consequently, many of the reasons Americans choose to watch
arts programming on television “remain unexplained” (p. 12).

Arts access through printed materials and the media yielded results with
socioeconomic and ethnic implications. After taking into account socioeconomic status
and level of arts education, women were found to read more than men, and those with
more arts education and/or higher levels of socioeconomic standing overall also read
more. African Americans and whites were found to have increased opportunities for
acquiring print-media, while Asians and Hispanics had less involvement with these
materials. In terms of arts creation, men reported spending significantly less time creating
than did women, and, after controlling for the amount of arts education one received,
African Americans reported spending less time creating art than any other ethnic group.
Additionally, arts education, not socioeconomic status, was the most reliable predictor of
arts creation. Arts performance, on the other hand, was not a steadfast result of arts
education, “despite the probable dominance of arts performance as a goal and
instructional practice within arts education” (p. 13). As in the category of arts creation,
African Americans, again, reported devoting less time to performing than did other
ethnic/racial groups.

Interestingly, Bergonzi and Smith (1996) concluded that arts education was the
strongest predictor of nearly every type of arts participation, except performance. The
authors delivered an astonishing realization regarding arts performance:

For almost every type of arts participation, the more one received of both

school- and community-based arts education, the more one participated in

the arts as an adult, either through consumption or creation. The exception

60

was once again in arts performance, where having received community-

based arts education as a child or youth did nothing to predict arts

performance, and receiving school-based education actually decreased the

likelihood somewhat that individuals would continue to perform as adults

[Emphasis added] (p. 14).
This anomaly has strong implications for music educators, their students, and for society
as well, as the policymakers of music education “have an additional obligation to increase
the aesthetic capability of a society’s members. . .” (Pankratz, 1987, p. 17). Providing a
balance of both school- and community—based instruction may provide numerous
opportunities for students to experience formal and informal ways of learning and
performing music. Increasing the likelihood for continued music learning into adulthood
and examining the value that music performance currently holds in our society, then, may
be of great concern for music educators, as the onus of perpetuating lifelong learning
habits among students rests on educators themselves. Because the arts, and specifically
music, have historically encompassed multigenerational constituents, it is worthy noting
the research that has been conducted among senior adults. Gerontology, or the study of
the elderly and of the aging process itself, points to the aforementioned assumptions

attributed to the arts.

Gerontology and the Fine Arts
Several studies address how the arts, including music, dance, poetry, and the
visual arts, contribute to the quality of life among aging adults. In an attempt to dismiss

the negative stereotypes associated with older adults, such as stunted learning abilities

61

and faulty memories, Johnson (1985) examined the creativity process among the elderly
with the expectation of cultivating an understanding of genuine musical abilities of older
adults. He noted how the self-confidence, the sense of accomplishment, and the
independence of the elderly were enhanced through music participation and suggested
that the need for developing music programs for senior adults was an imminent and
stimulating prospect.

In an earlier study, Flynn and Rich (1982) reported that providing choral music
for nursing home residents who suffered from visual impairments significantly improved
their musical experience, confidence, and their quality of life beyond the musical
application. Ernst and Emmons (1992) provided similar recommendations for assisting
senior adults in overcoming health-related obstacles, including the usage of airline
luggage carts for transporting large instruments to and from rehearsals, placing music in
plastic sleeves for ease in turning pages, adopting alternate instrument carriages for
arthritic hands, adjusting stands and other equipment for the visually impaired, and, like
Flynn and Rich (1982), enlarging music in a photocopier.

More recently, Nuessel, VanStewart, and Cedeno (2001) compiled case histories
of late-life creativity among seniors, including painter Marcel Duchamp, dancer Martha
Graham, musician Leos Janacek, actress Jessica Tandy, and writer May Sarton. One of
the most persuasive recommendations that the research team proposed was the creation of
a course that would focus on developing and maintaining humanistic creativity among
those in the later stages of life (2001). Currently, a course for urriversity-level, non-
gerontology majors entitled “Leisure Services for Older Adults” exists at the University

of Florida, where the class has thrived for over twenty-five years. Topics devoted to

62

promoting life and living, such as nutrition and fitness, hobbies, drama, outdoor
recreation, music, art, horticulture therapy, and animal-assisted therapy, are fundamental
components of the curriculum, where discourse in creativity is furthered (2001).

Hull’s (1990) thesis focused on six main segments in the lives of senior adults: (1)
The adjustment to retirement, including post—retirement job seeking, gender differences in
coping with retirement, cultural stereotypes, and survival rates; (2) The social support
networks among seniors, including children, spouses, employed caregivers, and fiiends;
(3) The issues related to coping with the death of a spouse, including the surviving
spouse’s loss of identity; (4) The educational opportunities that exist for the aged; (5) The
elements of life satisfaction among the elderly, including income, marital status,
education, and health; and, (6) The kinds of leisure activities in which senior adults
choose to participate, including the motivations and benefits supporting those decisions
(1990). The prospects that Hull raised regarding the lifestyles and motivational
tendencies of senior adults provide music educators with the impetus necessary to create
and maintain a rationale for developing musical opportunities for the elderly, for, as the
research suggests, it is through participation in the arts that creativity and vitality may be

explored and experienced.

Ethnographic Studies in Community Settings
As stated in Chapter 1, it has only been within the last twenty-five years that
studies in adult learning, specifically with regard to music, have begun to surface.
Consequently, ethnographic studies of indigenous community music-making have led to

a deeper understanding of lifelong learning and the meaning of music in the lives of

63

participants (Dabczynski, 1994; Edwards & Jankovic, 1980; Finnegan, 1989; Garrison,
1985; Green, 2002; Long, 1995; McCarthy, 1999; Sheldon, 1998). For example, Edwards
and Jankovic (1980) examined how the social protests that emanated from Appalachian
farms and mills in the early 20th century helped shape the cultural music heard on
commercial radios in the Ozarks. In a similar study, Long (1995) interviewed Raymond
F airchild, a self-made and self-educated banjo player fi'om North Carolina, who
discussed how mountain life and the trials of religion, education, race, and politics shaped
his musical identity. Sheldon (1998) investigated the musical experiences of five
Japanese community and company bands, focusing on funding for the ensembles and the
workers’ reasons for being a musician. Overwhelmingly, the Japanese community
musicians maintained a rigorous practice schedule and were motivated by the social and
musical aspects of band participation. This quest of dedication and perseverance
displayed by these musicians ultimately demonstrated, according to Sheldon, “how
important it is for music educators to promote elements in the school experience that will
serve to create enduring positive attitudes” (Sheldon, 1998, p. 24) toward future music-
making experiences.

Garrison (1985) spent 6 years examining both the historical and current trends in
fiddling styles among the Cape Breton fiddlers on Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia,
Canada. Of specific interest to the researcher was determining the level of transferability
of the informal teaching and learning techniques found among the Cape Breton Island
fiddlers to formal settings. Her forms of data collection included interviews, audio
recordings, photographs, and a survey questionnaire, all of which were supplemented

with observations performed during fiddle classes. By observing beginning and

64

intermediate fiddlers and their instructors, she determined that music was primarily
conveyed through aural and oral modes of instruction, and that written notation was used
merely as a mnemonic device. Garrison’s ultimate goal for her research was to bring
what she learned about community settings into school music settings, something the
present study on andragogy endeavors to accomplish.

In another study that examined the musical behaviors of fiddle players at a music
camp in the Catskill Mountains in New York, Dabczynski (1994) noted that an overriding
motivation among the fiddlers for attending the camp stemmed from the desire to build a
musical identity within an accepting community of learners. Modeling his study after
Garrison’s (1985), Dabczynski employed traditional methods of qualitative data
collection and also included a survey questionnaire. In his case study, Dabczynski duly
noted that the informants’ musical experiences not only served as an extension of the
players’ frames of musical reference, but also promoted a sense of community, a
foundation of collective purpose, and opportunities for lifelong learning (1994).
McCarthy (1999) echoed this notion by purporting that musical communities can be
“created within cultures whose members participate in and share a common musical
goal” (p. 23) and that the “mystical and tangible phenomenon of music” (p. 195) is,
essentially, a spiritual one.

Green (2002) investigated the dichotomy of formal and informal music learning
patterns that are innate within a community and suggested that, while the two modes of
learning are not mutually exclusive, they share relatively few commonalities in terms of
values and “social networks” (p. 6). These underpinnings associated with formal and

informal music learning resurfaced in the work of Waldron (2006), who studied the

65

transmission of Celtic music in the Canadian provinces of Newfoundland, Nova Scotia,
Manitoba, Quebec, Prince Edward Island, and Ontario. Because Celtic music is
traditionally learned through means of aural/oral transmission, Waldron examined her
participants’ perceptions of music learning in this style and how reading notation, a result
of formal music instruction, effected this process. Most germane to the present study in
music andragogy, Waldron (2006) discovered that her informants overwhelmingly
“developed self-teaching strategies designed to accommodate and/or supplement their
aural/oral learning” (2006, abstract). Additionally, the adult students believed that the
formal music teaching and learning constructs typically associated with Western
notation-reading practices were not sufficient for learning traditional Celtic music and
that students valued informal music activities equally, if not more than, formal music
activities found in music classrooms (2006).

It was in the English town of Milton Keynes in Buckinghamshire that Finnegan
(1989) studied local amateur community musicians in an attempt to discover how local
music-making is “veiled not just from outsiders but even from the musicians themselves
and their supporters” (p. 4). The researcher conducted a detailed, qualitative exploration
of the musical behaviors of area ensembles, such as jazz groups, church choirs, rock
bands, community bands and orchestras, brass bands, and country and Western bands,
and simultaneously organized interviews and distributed questionnaires to establish
motives for participation and to ascertain which groups rehearsed in school and church
buildings and which groups frequented local pubs. She reported several provocative
results, including the idea that music-making was a compelling, defining experience for

community musicians, that each performance genre retained distinctive traditions in

66

which music was learned, taught, composed, and performed, and finally, that members of
one musical group were often unaware of their counterparts in other groups (1989).

Observing children in the suburban community of The Gambia, West Africa,
Koops (2006) studied the various ways in which children played and made music in the
home, at school, and in the community. Koops discovered that, through music, Gambian
children have the capacity to exert power in the community because they are able to learn
autonomously and are able to teach themselves music through an array of learning
techniques, such as observing others, listening, and participating in activities. Musical
agency was also displayed through the children’s selection and implementation of certain
movements, languages, and attitudes while singing, dancing, and playing games. As
singing never occurred without dancing or movement, enjoyment was linked with each
function of music-making in The Gambia and contributed to the sense of community.

Koops’ findings regarding power and community resonate with Blacking (1995),
who believed that, while “music cannot instill a sense of fellowship. . .or any other state
or social value,” the “best it can do is to confirm situations that already exist” (Blacking,
p. 36). Along this line of reasoning lies Blacking’s vision of musical identity, a
fundamental component of community music experiences:

My theme is that music expresses aspects of the experience of individuals

in society. I do not consider it necessary to elaborate the argument that all

normal human beings (and this includes geniuses) are born with similar

emotional and intellectual capacities. The development or inhibition of

these capacities is largely, if not completely, conditioned by people’s

experience of human relationship. Since the public and the private self,

67

and even the vision of what the self could or should be, are products of

social interaction, the structure of every aspect of the self will reflect in

various ways the processes of that interaction. Thus music, which is a

product of the processes which constitute the realization of self, will

reflect all aspects of the self (pp. 32-3 3).

Perhaps one of the most recent, salient contributions to the body of research
devoted to adult participation in instrumental ensembles is the study conducted by Pitts
(2005). This multiple-case study investigated musical identity and the role of music in the
lives of nearly 600 British community musicians. She collected the data between 2000
and 2003 and focused on four bounded cases that included the following populations: (1)
music students in transition from secondary schools to universities, (2) performers and
audience members at a Gilbert and Sullivan festival, (3) participants in a contemporary
music summer school, and (4) performers and audience members at a chamber music
festival. Music identity (“musician” as a self-concept) was a key concern for Pitts among
both the performers and the audience members alike. Data collection for this study
included questionnaires, interviews, and diary (joumal) entries.

Additional emphasis was placed on individuals’ experiences within a group
setting and across comparable musical situations, thus providing ideas that could be
cross-referenced between all four studies. Pitts was able to collect these experiences
through participants’ reflections about their own perceptions of a musical event, their
interactions with other participants, and their own sense of musical engagement (2005).

Pitts adhered to a common practice in analyzing multiple case studies, whereby

preliminary within-case analyses were reported first, featuring the themes and trends of

68

the case itself, followed by a cross-caSe analysis focusing on the themes found across all
cases. The latter is applicable to the formal and informal ways in which students of any
age learn music. Pitts also masterfully reported embedded analyses, which focused on
one specific characteristic within the data, such as motivation, enjoyment, or frustration,
while her holistic analysis focused on the entire case, ensemble, or event. Through these
analyses, she concluded that all participants valued musical activity, but that the epicenter
of value included different yet interconnected reasons, including performing with others,

gaining confidence, identity, spiritual fulfillment, and promoting repertoire (Pitts, 2005).

Summary

While Bergonzi & Smith (1996) reported that arts education may be a practical
means for predicting future arts participation (though, confoundingly, not necessarily
performance) among adults, Hull (1 990) found that music was a motivational factor in
senior adults’ leisure activities and artistic endeavors. Pitts (2005) discovered that group
dynamics were key factors in sustaining music participation for many of her informants,
and that the degree to which individuals were satisfied with musical experiences
depended on a turique combination of disparate yet inter-related reasons. Finally,
Dabczynski (1994), Garrison (1985), Koops (2006) and Waldron (2006) reported that
musical transmission can be rooted in cultural practices and that identity can be created
within a community of learners whose chief hallmark includes shared music-making
experiences.

The aforementioned research may help music educators and adult students to

more fully understand the meanings and implications of lifelong music-making in our

69

society. This study focuses on the attitudes and perceptions that non-professional adult
musicians hold regarding their participation in instrumental ensembles. Specifically, the
current research will investigate the various methods that adults use in learning to play

music instruments.

70

CHAPTER III

METHODOLOGY

Design

This project will be an ethnographic case study of the teachers and students in two
separate community band settings in North America: the adult community bands at the
Cosmopolitan Music Society (CMS) in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, and the Michigan
State University Community Music School’s New Horizons Band (NHB) in East
Lansing, Michigan. I will use the ethnographic techniques of observations, participant
observations, interviews, artifact collection, and immersion to collect data. Data sources
will include field notes from observations and participant observations, interview
transcripts, and audio-recordings of adult music rehearsal sessions, all of which will
target the behavior and attitudes of the participants, their reasons for continued

participation, and formal and informal modes of music learning.

Human Subjects Approval
Initially, representatives of both adult music programs were contacted regarding
the possibility of conducting research at their facilities. I then obtained approval for doing
the study from the Institutional Review Board (IRB) at Michigan State University. The
executive directors and administrators of each community program were informed of the
purpose and scale of the study, the duration of the research, who may be involved, and

finally, the consent clause stating that participation in the study is strictly voluntary. Once

71

written consent was obtained, I was introduced to the band members and began to
observe rehearsals and personal interactions, thus maintaining my role of “observer as
participant” (Creswell, 2003, p. 186). To those willing to be interviewed, I explained the
scope of the study, clarified their rights as a participant, answered any questions they may
have had regarding the interview, and obtained written consent from the informants

before conducting the interviews.

The Researcher Lens

It was the fall of 1986, and I was 16. When I was invited to play with The Eureka
Band, Indiana’s oldest volunteer band — and, as I recently learned, the nation’s oldest
continuously performing band 4 I was elated. Not only did the IS-member ensemble play
traditional Sousa marches and German waltzes and polkas for special events and festivals
in southeastern Indiana, it also performed an annual summer concert series in Batesville’s
Liberty Park. The Eureka Band’s director, Mr. Bess Bartling, had been my father’s high
school band director in the late 1950s and had retired after having been the music director
at Batesville High School for nearly 40 years. His wife, Hilda, worked with my mother at
the First Bank and Trust, Co. in town, so, at age 16, I knew that I had to uphold the
family name by being a dedicated, contributing “adult” member of the band. In fact, a
year later, and in the same pair of scratchy navy slacks, I played my first beer festival, a
forbidden yet remarkable affair in the life of a young, impressionable community
musician.

Playing for Mr. Bartling was like playing for a legend. He composed and arranged

marches by hand down in his basement; the notes were written on small sheets of staff

72

paper, and his writing was often difficult to decipher. A shaky hand prevented him from
writing legibly, and quivering lips wreaked havoc on his comet embouchure. Mr.
Bartling played 3rd part and frequently rested his lips during concerts, rubbing his right
hand along his leg and gently smacking together the left comers of his mouth as if to
massage the muscles back to feeling. The radiant, florescent-bulbed basement served as
his composition studio, his instrument repair workshop, the band’s rehearsal hall, and as
the “green room” in which Hilda’s famous ham salad sandwiches were served, sliced and
placed in heaping piles on several large platters, after each Monday night rehearsal.

What fascinated me about this group was that its culture was far different than the
one found in my high school band. A remnant of bygone days, The Eureka Band’s
woodwind section was entirely male; this was a new concept for me. I also found the
members to be social creatures, willing to laugh and make jokes, but not to the point of
letting either the preparation or performance of the music suffer. Additionally, having
musical input from adult musicians assisted me in developing a concept of musical
longevity among people and was the start of my own long-standing belief in the value of
community music participation. Some months later, though, I would witness that
longevity end for one of our band members.

Without fail, Clyde always were white socks with large black shoes and played an
old, silver piston valve French horn. Consequently, his archaic instrument became the
target of many jokes during rehearsals. “Get a mi horn, Clyde! That’s not even an
instrument,” his band mates would say, teasingly. Two years before Clyde’s death, the
local VFW hired me to play “Taps” at military funerals and various ceremonies in the

area. Several funerals and a few five-dollar stipends later, I had become uncannily

73

accustomed to playing at gravesites near family members in mourning. I had no way of
knowing that playing “Taps” for Clyde would be one of the hardest things I would ever
have to endure; until then, I had never known the deceased personally. So, I said good-
bye the only way I knew how. No drum rolls-off. No car horns. Only the sound of a lone
trumpet mingled with the distinct noises that only bereaved humans can produce.
Envisioning Clyde’s piston valves and wondering whether he was wearing white socks
that day were the two images that sustained me through that particular “performance” of
“Taps.” While The Eureka Band found itself without a French horn player, I was proud to
have been a part of Clyde’s graveside service, and it became evident to me that the social
support networks generated by and amongst community musicians were deeper and more
meaningful than I had originally surmised.

A more recent development regarding adult participation in music involved six of
my former high school students who have performed with the University of Michigan
Campus Bands. Because four of the six students were highly motivated and dedicated
during their tenure in high school band, their voluntary participation in the Campus
Bands and the Marching Band was not surprising. The remaining two students, in stark
contrast to the other four, had been adamant about not participating in college ensembles
because of their dwindling interest in music or because of their aspirations to safeguard
academic grades. In an unexpected turn of events, both of these students performed with
the Campus Bands and invited me to attend their concert in the spring of 2005. I was
thrilled to see and hear these former students playing quality wind repertoire with a high
level of musicianship. These observations sparked several questions: Why the change of

heart? What compelled these two young ladies to join Campus Band after their explicit

74

denial the year before? What changed for them, and what needs did they have for
participating? More importantly, were these needs actually fulfilled?

Because I was a public school band director for ten years, my perspectives on
unsolicited adult participation in community ensembles are somewhat skewed. Perhaps I
think differently than other people because of this. Perhaps those who participate in
community music opportunities encounter something different than I do, just as I am
certain I experience a different sensation while snapping photographs or running than
what a professional photographer or marathon athlete may experience. To this extent,
knowing how music educators can improve the musical lives of students so they may be
able to experience, via choice and free will, musical opportunities as adults is a notion

worthy of examination.

Participants
The participants in this study were adult residents in Edmonton, Alberta and East
Lansing, Michigan who were self-selected members of two distinct adult community
band programs. Also participating in the study were the conductors of each group. I
observed adult musicians over the age of 18 who were participants in the Cosmopolitan
Music Society and the New Horizons Band and observed adults learning music in

rehearsal and concert venues as well as in casual, non-musical settings.

75

Settings
Cosmopolitan Music Society

In contrast to the international scope of the New Horizons Band movement in the
United States, there exists a unique, hidden musical gem in Canada. In June of 2006, the
Cosmopolitan Music Society in Edmonton, Alberta, celebrated its 42"d year of leadership
among community music programs in Canada. The society emerged in 1963 and was
originally known as the Cosmopolitan Club Band, a satellite organization of the
Cosmopolitan Club of Edmonton. While the original bands were comprised of
intergenerational members, the escalation of school music programs in the 1970s
prompted the society to become an adult amateur music program exclusively. In order to
replenish the group’s membership, the notion of developing a beginning band for adults
was conceived. Today, the society boasts three concert bands, a community chorus, and a
state-of-the-art facility that includes two rehearsal halls, a recording studio,
administration offices, a “green room,” a kitchen, and a members’ lounge. In addition, the
Society employs three band directors, one choral director, a piano accompanist, a fill]-
time administrative assistant, and several applied lessons teachers from the Edmonton
area.

The Cosmopolitan Music Society bands are organized into three hierarchical
ensembles — beginning, intermediate, and advanced — whose membership is typically
garnered through an audition process within and among the groups. With slogans like
Join us for a lifetime of musical rewards! and Play with us...and keep your day job!

(CMS flyers, n.d.), the Cosmopolitan Music Society membership guidelines read that:

76

The Cosmopolitan Music Society (CMS) is a non-profit organization

registered under the Societies’ Act in the Province of Alberta. The

purposes of the society are twofold: First, the music program that

developed over a forty-year period provides an opportunity for Edmonton

and district amateur adult musicians to perform in professionally

organized and directed instrumental and choral ensembles. Second, CMS

makes these ensembles available to the community for public

performances. For over four decades, the community has benefited from

the many concerts performed annually and from the enhancement the

Society’s live music has provided to countless social events and

ceremonial occasions. A seven member Board of Directors elected from

the membership undertakes Society policy and responsibility for

operations. A firll time Music Director and Business Manager provide

day-to-day operation and management. Additional professional musicians

and educators are engaged on a part time basis to assist with musical

instruction and direction (CMS Membership Guidelines, n.d.).

The Cosmopolitan Music Society bands consist of a beginning, intermediate, and
advanced band that rehearse weekly and perform in several concert venues in Edmonton
and throughout North America. Each fall, beginning band members receive homogeneous
lessons on their instruments and are given concurrent instruction in music theory. It is not
until December that beginning band students are amalgamated with other musicians in

the program and, in time, are able to audition for Openings in the other bands. The

77

Cosmopolitan Music Society continues to be a proud, driving musical force in Edmonton,

and is a unique — and rare —- entity among adult music programs in North America.

The New Horizons Band

The New Horizons Music movement is an American model of formal instruction
that provides entry points for adult learners in music and includes both those who have no
prior experience in music and those who have been inactive musicians for a significant
period of time. Asserting the philosophy that anyone can learn to play music, Dr. Roy
Ernst from the Eastman School of Music of the University of Rochester, NY, organized
the first New Horizons Band in 1991 . Because age 50 is viewed as one of the official
markers for senior adulthood by the American Association of Retired Persons (AARP),
the original New Horizons pilot ensemble was designed to serve the 50-and-older senior
population. While subsequent, autonomous New Horizons groups have adopted
minimum age requirements for participation, others remain open to adults of any age.
Additionally, the New Horizons Bands strive to impart a non-competitive, supportive,
and inclusive environment, as many individuals have unfortunately been made to feel
unmusical or unworthy of musical instruction at some point in their lives (Ernst &
Emmons, 1992). Aiming to dispel this myth, Ernst deftly encourages those interested in
the program with his legendary motto: Your best is good enough.

Thousands of adults participate in New Horizons Music for many of the same
reasons mentioned earlier. Social, expressive, and intellectual motivations are strong
among band members, and senior adults have been able to experience both the simple

and the profound effect of music on well-being and health. Because of its professed

78

attachment to the power of music, the New Horizons movement has grown to include
senior orchestras and choirs, although an overwhelming majority of the ensembles are
bands. Currently, there exist over 200 New Horizons ensembles in the United States, six
in Canada, and one in Ireland.

The East Lansing New Horizons Band is housed within the Michigan State
University (MSU) Community Music School. Founded in 1993, this outreach division is
sponsored by the MSU College of Music and provides comprehensive services in music
education and develops educational programs for individuals of all ages within the
greater-Lansing community. Some of the class offerings at the Community Music School
include applied instrumental and vocal lessons, early childhood music, children and adult
choirs, musicianship for children, music theory for adults, music therapy clinical services,
Suzuki string and piano programs, summer camps for band, string, choir, and therapy
students, folk music, and beginning strings for adults. The New Horizons Band has been
affiliated with the MSU Community Music School for four years and has remained true
to the original Eastman School of Music model; every member of the ensemble is a
senior adult over the age of 50, and the band philosophy incorporates a non-competitive,
accepting spirit, affording those with no prior musical experience entrance into the
ensemble without an audition. Additionally, while the band has one full-time director,
there is an MSU doctoral student assigned to the group to assist the director in leading
sectionals, teaching small-group lessons, assisting in the percussion section, and guest
conducting. In fact, it should be noted that this particular teaching position was part of

my own graduate teaching assistantship responsibilities during the 2004-2005 schoolyear.

79

Procedure and Data Collection

I attended and observed five separate New Horizons Band rehearsals at the
Michigan State University Community Music School and conducted interviews with
three band members. I also interviewed the director of the East Lansing New Horizons
Band in order to elicit her thoughts on the learning processes that take place among adult
band members. Additionally, I became a participant in a New Horizons Band
performance setting by assisting in the percussion section as well as serving as the
trumpet “ringer” in the German Band. (Ironically, many of these tunes are arrangements
of songs I once played in The Eureka Band. This time, though, I got to wear other pieces
of obligatory band attire: khakis, a hunter green New Horizons Band polo shirt, and a
little green Tyrolean hat with a white feather.)

I also spent twelve days in Edmonton, Alberta, May 29 through June 9, 2006.
Upon my arrival, I observed the final rehearsals in preparation for the Society’s annual
Season Finale Concert, and had an opportunity to interview band members and the
principle band conductors. I procured permission from Mr. Harry Pinchin, Music
Director of the Cosmopolitan Music Society, for a visit during this time. I was also in
attendance at the Finale Concert and had the opportunity to interact with the membership
during the social, informal times embedded within the band schedule.

Because the nature of this study was qualitative and descriptive, there were four
primary sources of data collection: (1) observations, (2) field notes, (3) formal interviews,
and (4) informal interviews. A total of 10 rehearsals (five at each site) were observed at

the Cosmopolitan Music Society and at the MSU Community Music School.

80

The first data source consisted of observing both band rehearsal and performance
settings. I traced the proceedings of these events, as well as documented the behaviors,
student/teacher interactions, patterns of instruction, and student outcomes, supplementing
this information with narrative description and/or codes. Digital photos were also taken
of the physical settings themselves in order to capture their significance during
subsequent analysis. The digital still-image camera used in this research was a Nikon
Coolpix 4600.

The second data source consisted of field notes taken during observations and
interviews and served as a reminder of sequences of events, teacher and student behaviors,
instructional tendencies, and descriptive characteristics within each setting. Because field
notes provided a logical and consistent actuation of all observed events, I coupled the
observation field notes with a separate, personal journal that included my thoughts
throughout the observation and interview processes, private musings regarding my own
journey in the research process, and personal writing exercises, such as writing rich
descriptions while having breakfast at a coffee shop or writing down my reactions to
those I encountered in public venues. The two journals not only served as markers for the
evolution of the research, but for the development of my own understanding as well.

The third data source consisted of recorded interviews with informants. Following
a structured yet flexible interview outline, I collected stories from the participants,
including their reasons for enrolling in their respective band program, what compelled
them to continue in band, and their reactions to concepts of adult learning. An Olympus
DM-20 digital voice recorder with a lapel microphone was used in order to obtain this

data. Additional electronic equipment used in this research included a Panasonic PV-

81

G859 Mini-DV digital video camera and an HP Pavilion dv 4000 laptop computer.
Olympus DSS Player software was used for downloading interviews from the digital
voice recorder onto the laptop computer and for compiling and editing interview
transcripts.

The fourth data source consisted of informal interviews that occurred
spontaneously throughout the course of the observation or interview processes.
Inforrnants who approached me and who initiated conversation unwittingly supplied
salient information that was relevant to the study. Because this type of interview occurred
randomly or without prior knowledge or preparation, digital recordings of the interviews
were not always feasible, as their unforeseen nature dictated that field notes were the

most effective means of collecting data.

Limitations of the Study

Because this is a qualitative study, any generalizations transferred to other adult
instrumental music programs are not appropriate. The information contained in this study,
however, may be considered in conjunction with the limitations. As I am the sole data
collector in this research, my personal biases, both known and unknown, may affect the
kinds of data that are collected, how the data is coded, and how the data will be
interpreted.

As mentioned earlier in this chapter, I have had previous experience teaching and
performing with one of the cases in this study, the Michigan State University Community
Music School’s New Horizons Band. A portion of my 2004—2005 graduate teaching

assistantship responsibilities included teaching brass and percussion sectionals as well as

82

assisting the director with the various rehearsing, conducting, and administrative tasks
associated with the New Horizons Band program. I am no stranger to these adults, as I
have also served as an assistant and substitute teacher, a substitute percussionist, and as
an observer and interviewer while conducting previous pilot studies on adult learning in
music. Alluding once again to my role of “observer as participant” (Creswell, 2003, p.
186), I have chosen to continue studying this particular band because of our shared past,
and I believe our mutual trust and the rapport that has been established with these persons
will contribute significant amounts of richness and depth to the data.

Finally, this study does not attempt to comment upon, or to judge disparagingly,
any methodological or philosophical approaches to directing, conducting, organizing, or
leading adult instrumental music programs; however, the foundations of the cases’
existence are germane to understanding the context of this study. Because there can be
inherent differences in interpretation, a notoriously subjective component within
qualitative research, I will make every attempt to minimize error by maintaining

consistency in data triangulation during data analysis.

Analysis
Collected data is included in the findings of this study. Trustworthiness strategies
include member checks, triangulation, and peer review. Transcripts were sent via e-mail
or regular mail to interview participants, who then had the opportunity to edit their
responses so that the accuracy of their responses was ensured. The conductors of the

Cosmopolitan Music Society and the New Horizons Band also provided significant

83

insight into members’ performance habits, personalities, and character by providing e-
journal entries that were used to enhance the research data.

As stated above, peer review was used as a source of triangulation. In this process,
interview transcripts that were coded and analyzed for emergent themes and trends (see
Appendix A and Appendix B) were subsequently reviewed by peer researchers who
attempted to ascertain the accuracy of the codes. Peer researchers used in this study were
professors and doctoral students in music education at Michigan State University who
have conducted or who are currently conducting research studies’in the qualitative
paradigm and who have spent extensive time in the field collecting, analyzing, and
coding research data. In addition, interview summary forms (see Appendix C and
Appendix D) were used to outline the main themes found in each interview and to
emphasize the most salient points within each transcript. Finally, and in order to protect
the anonymity of the informants participating in this study, all but two informants were
assigned pseudonyms. Because of their national and international reputations as the
music directors and conductors of the Cosmopolitan Music Society, Mr. Harry Pinchin
and Mr. Garry Silverrnan’s proper names were retained, with their express permission,

for use in this document.

84

CHAPTER IV

GETTING TO KNOW THE DRAMATIS PERSONAE

Harold
I have a revolutionary new method called the Think System...
(Willson, 1958, Act One, Scene 5, p. 69).

In order to appreciate the analysis of this data, the most suitable place to begin is
with the adults who participated in this study. Through sheer chance, both the
Cosmopolitan Music Society and the New Horizons Band independently slated
performances of medley highlights from The Music Man during my residency with each
group. This coincidence, along with the multi-layered meanings and implications
regarding music participation contained in The Music Man’s score and libretto, could not
be disregarded. Therefore, the adults in this study will be identified and distinguished
using characters from Meredith Willson’s The Music Man. This technique will serve
several purposes.

First, this is a way in which to secure pseudonyms, thus protecting the informants’
privacy and insuring that their true names are not disclosed. One informant, Mr. Harry
Pinchin, is an internationally-recognized teaching figure, so his identity has not been
protected, although the pseudonym assigned to him bears a striking resemblance to his
given name. This, as the reader will discover, is purposeful. Second, I noticed that, in

order to capture meaningful moments and relevant characteristics of each adult, it was

often advantageous referring to them as characters fiom the musical. Thus, I have given

85

them pseudonyms that will serve to provide a mere glimpse into their personalities.
Additionally, and perhaps most important, these pseudonyms are in no way meant to
encapsulate the entirety of the adults’ characteristics or to bestow onto the informants the
unique personality traits associated with the fictitious characters from The Music Man.
This technique is simply a way of identifying and referring to the participants in this
document; the pseudonyms do not imply anything beyond serving as a literary device.
With this said, I must first introduce you to the dramatis personae, the cast of players,

before their stories are told.

Cosmopolitan Music Society

Adult informants from the Cosmopolitan Music Society were at varying levels in
their musical development and were, collectively, members of the Monday, Tuesday, and
Wednesday Night Bands (Advanced, Intermediate, and Beginning Bands, respectively).
Membership in each ensemble varied in number from 41 to 63 members in each band,
and each ensemble rehearsed for two and a half hours on their designated night. Three of
the following informants were proud, contributing members of more than one ensemble.
One participant performed in both the Monday and Tuesday Night Bands, while another
participant performed in both the Tuesday and Wednesday Night Bands. Still another
informant, beyond playing with the Tuesday Night Band, sang with the Cosmopolitan
Music Society Community Chorus. The remaining five participants performed with only

one of the nightly ensembles.

86

1. Harold Hill

“You see,” Harry Pinchin says, “in my old, very narrow, conservatory, European,
Canadian background, if you didn’t start the violin at 6, _d_o_n_’t! And if you didn’t, _m_ayb§
you waited for your second teeth, but maybe not. But s_tifl, you had to be underway. You
didn’t just decide when you’re middle-aged that you’re going to play the trombone. It just
wasn’t something anyone thought of. . .And I thought to myself, ‘Co_uld adults do this?”’
(Interview, Harry Pinchin, May 31, 2006). Harry is a towering figure, both in stature and
knowledge. His background as a professional orchestral trumpet player, a bandsman in
the Canadian Royal Armed Forces Band, and as a television variety show bandleader in
the 19705 afforded Harry the opportunity and resources to fashion a promising firture for
the Cosmopolitan Music Society. “They nicknamed me The Music Man from the musical,
you know — I’d do everything but sell ‘em the uniforms” (Interview, Harry Pinchin, May
31, 2006). Through common sense and vision, and through orchestrating homogeneous
group lessons with his beginning adult musicians, he reflects on ways in which adult
learning was accelerated in the early years of the Society. “Now where the little joke
about The Music Man comes in is that I had made sure, certain, that in addition to
whatever music the instructors were giving the students, that [they also] included m
little line, or _t_h_i_s piece, or some kind of section of a piece. But none of them [the students]
knew that I was doing this. So, in fact, they were learning the parts to the first three
pieces when they became a band, but they didn’t know, they weren’t told that. So at the
first rehearsal in January when we put them all together, they. . .it. . .like. . .tears”
(Interview, Harry Pinchin, May 31, 2006). Harry’s voice trails ofl' as if someone snatched

the words away fi'om his mouth before they could escape. There is a long pause during

87

which Harry’s dark eyes pool with fluid emotion. He cares. He cares deeply about his

adult students, despite his strapping, indomitable exterior.

2. Marcellus Washburn

Marcellus is the epitome of the private, self-regulating musician who thrives on
practicing alone in his basement and experiencing music by himself. “You know,” he
discloses, “I don’t want to put myself in a situation where I’m trying to perform, trying to
be a professional who I’m not, because my passion is not to play [a] solo anywhere, ever.
The only person I can play for is myself” (Interview, Marcellus Washburn, May 29,
2006). A dedicated husband, father, and animal lover, Marcellus is equally captivated by
the sense of camaraderie shared among the members of his band. While he values
diligent self-practice, he prefers to experience, comfortably, the fruits of his labor with
the collective in full ensemble rehearsals. His countenance is strong, but his demeanor
polite and reserved. Inspired by the military and police bands he witnessed as a youth,
Marcellus is earnestly thankful for the opportunity to have a second chance at joining a
band, an opportunity which was once only reserved for school children. “It’s a dream
come true for me to play in a band starting as an adult with no previous experience”

(Interview, Marcellus Washburn, May 29, 2006).

3. Ethel Tofi’elmier
A former piano teacher, Ethel exudes a regal, ladylike carriage and possesses an
elegant, flowing vocabulary complemented by an expressive and soothing vocal timbre.

This dignified deportrrrent crumbles only when she recounts the cacophony of noises she

88

experienced during her first-ever band rehearsal in 1974. “That first band [rehearsal] was
unbelievable. I laughed, and I can laugh hysterically now. First of all, it was that beginner
band sound which is awful and wonderful and dreadfirl (laughs) and great all at the same
time (laughs). [My fiiend and I] laughed so hard that the tears were rolling down our
face and we were doubled over. And what also made it even more excruciatingly funny,
besides the sound, was that there was a fellow that was just in our peripheral vision who
was playing trumpet. And he was kind of a geek. Back in those days, if you wore running
shoes that were up on your ankles (laughs), that was a no-no. And he had these on and he
had a wad of gum in his mouth that would choke a horse (laughs). And he put the trumpet
to his mouth, and if he could have physically blown us out of the building, he
would’ve!”(lnterview, Ethel Toffelmier, June 2, 2006). She reenacts this scene by
shutting her eyes, holding up an imaginary trumpet to her lips, and puffing out her cheeks
while stomping her foot wildly on the floor. As if reliving this memory all over again,
Ethel throws her hands up, tosses herself against the back of the red-flowered sofa upon
which she is sitting, and cackles riotously. The years melt away, and I see Ethel as a

woman thirty-two years younger, laughing uncontrollably with her best fiiend.

4. Zaneeta Shinn

“Ye Gods!” (Willson, Act One, Scene 9, p. 93). Bubbly, animated, and
endearingly talkative, Zaneeta wears a kind face that radiates trust, devotion, and a
profound, genuine interest in others. When discussing issues that are viscerally important
to her, her eyes seem to moisten and enlarge, serving as an organic portal linking her '

outer world with her years of experience and her journey toward self-discovery. Like

89

others in the band, she is multi-talented, athletic, musically resourceful, and creative.
Zaneeta’s bold and likeable character showcases her continued pursuit for excellence in
playing through her investment in private lessons, membership in a woodwind chamber
ensemble, and her willingness to be an independent, self-directed learner. Additionally,
Zaneeta’s dynamic storytelling abilities, festooned with her own fits of infectious
laughter, are extraordinary hilarious. “. . .what I diggfi know was that you shouldn’t leave
your [instrument] in the trunk of the car while it’s fieezing (laughs). I started having
trouble with all of the pads popping off (laughs), and I’m like, ‘Hey, what’s going on
(laughs)?’ And finally someone said, ‘Did this instrument fieeze?’ I thought, ‘Every
week! (Laughs) Every w_e§_lg I had this firing freezing in the car for two hours!”’

(Interview, Zaneeta Shinn, June 2, 2006.)

5. Eulalie Mackecknie Shinn

Eulalie’s unshakable spirit is refreshing. She retains a distinctive, rich set of
personality intricacies that incorporate passion, independence, competitiveness,
vulnerability, creativity, humor, and an unyielding determination to live fervently. Over
time, she has redefined herself in her career, hobbies, and musicianship, and she inspires
those who know her by her strength and resolute nature. Eulalie listens intently during
rehearsals; her head wheels around the room, latching onto discussion focal points, onto
the sections of the band having particular difficulties, or onto whatever event is
demanding her attention at the time. Her finger is on the pulse of activity within the
Cosmopolitan Music Society, as there is no doubt she knows what events are transpiring.

While Eulalie admittedly becomes easily bored, she thrives on presenting herself with

90

new challenges and is fiercely loyal to her compatriots. “[The people] are very accepting.
They’re excited about learning something new. . .It’s about people enjoying music and
being able to participate in music instead of just listening to music. . .That’s a big part”

(Interview, Eulalie Shinn, June 2, 2006).

6. Mrs. Paroo

As one of the earliest members of the Cosmopolitan Music Society, Mrs. Paroo
remains a matriarchal figure in the organization. Her sprightly demeanor, quick wit,
clever banter, and mischievous twinkle inform those who encounter her that they are
dealing with an extraordinary lady. She sits calmly in rehearsal and is able to connect and
communicate with her colleagues by means of a subtle gesture or a knowing glance.
Despite her collected nature, she confesses that performances are not as meaningful or
enjoyable as rehearsals. “The thought of doing [concerts] in the first place I find
terrorizing. I 103 the practices. . .Any vacations I took, I always tried to arrange them

around practice times. Good heavens if I missed two [rehearsals] in a row, I’d have

 

hysterics, you know?” (Interview, Mrs. Paroo, June 2, 2006). With a powerful desire to
retain and expand her capacities for memory retrieval and dexterity acquisition, Mrs.
Paroo possesses and practices the traditional, time-honored cornerstones of work ethic

and commitment.

7. Alma Hix
Smart. Inventive. Self-sufficient. Perceptive. Mannerly and courteous. Upon an

initial meeting, reserved. Like Eulalie, Alma is a reinvented woman, a pragrnatist who

91

does not put on airs. She dresses comfortably in sandals and a flowered linen sundress,
choosing her words carefully and speaking less than what her eyes convey. The word
Alma frequently uses to describe the key to effective teaching and learning is passion.
“Rehearsing is enjoyable and the performing is nice, but you’re performing for a very
short time. So in my eyes, gm to that point has to be good. . .When your instructor has
a lot of passion. . .that’s kind of infectious. It just provides a vehicle that makes you want
to learn more and do things” (Interview, Ahna Hix, June 2, 2006). As a faithful
participant in weekend sectionals with her section mates, she is also keenly aware of
adults’ mindsets when learning new things. “People are very sensitive, and they’re yg'y

sensitive that they don’t know everything” (Interview, Alma Hix, June 2, 2006).

8. Winthrop Paroo

People seem to know when Winthrop is around. Like bread crumbs falling
between Hansel’s fingers, laughter and guffawing regularly trail Winthrop’s presence; he
is the Pied Piper of jokery. Although he wears an elfin grin most of the time, he is far
more complex than the cursory first impression and is seemingly made up of two distinct
personas. On the exterior, he is the definition of a middle school student in a mature body.
He is humorous, sarcastic, teasing, wise—cracking, and rascally, yet trustworthy and
incredibly warm. Inside, he has profound insight on views regarding humanity, the
learning process, inter-personal relationships, self-reflection, and philosophical beliefs
regarding music. Winthrop’s self-awareness of how he has progressed since joining the
band is apparent, as he is remarkably appreciative of what music participation has

afforded him. Excited and energized about learning, Winthrop values setting a musical

92

example for others, being self-disciplined, and, through reciprocity, serving those who

have served him.

New Horizons Band

The East Lansing New Horizons Band at the Michigan State University
Community Music School had over 40 musicians enrolled. Although the members varied
in their musical skill, they were consistently engaged in full ensemble rehearsals,
chamber music settings, private lessons, or in the German Band, an independent
ensemble formed fiom the core membership. The New Horizons Band rehearses each
Tuesday and Thursday morning for two hours, supplemented by the revered, compulsory
“snack break” at the mid-point of each rehearsal, during which band members engage in
social interactions, political and religious discussions, and both low- and high-brow

antics.

1. Marian Paroo

“Today was a day that I re_al_lv felt like I was fly teaching, not just making them
happy. I just felt that everybody left that rehearsal with something, and you anlv that
doesn’t always happen, no matter if you’re teaching 6th graders or 60-year olds. And
rea_lly, that’s sggh a good feeling” (Interview, Marian Paroo, March 20, 2007). Marian is
a gifted, enthusiastic music teacher dedicated to providing her students with a positive
musical experience through the creation and maintenance of an encouraging, nurturing
classroom climate. Each New Horizons Band member, regardless of ability level or

know-how, experiences a degree of success during their time in Marian’s band. “If you’re

93

new to our group, just play the downbeat of each measure, then gradually add more notes
as your comfort level increases,” she reassures the group (Field Notes Entry, November
16, 2006). Giving her students a sense of achievement is important to her, as she believes
this process fosters self-awareness, understanding, and an appreciation for music among
the membership. Marian’s effervescent nature combined with her flair for structuring
industrious rehearsals affords her students a unique instructional balance between
productivity and lightheartedness. To those who know her, this productivity is no surprise;
her efficiency as a band librarian during her undergraduate career in music education, in

fact, earned her the moniker “Marian the Librarian.”

2. Mayor Shinn

As I observe Mayor Shinn, I immediately take note of his quiet leadership. In fact,
he assumes the role of “leader” by being unassuming. “I guess in most organizations that
I’ve been in, I’ve kind of gravitated toward a leadership role,” he says. “And not that I
deserve to be, but I just seem to pick up the ball when something is needed. There are
some, obviously, who are not serious, but at least semi-serious about the music we’re
playing and who want to keep on with it. Then there are others who just play around with
it. In one sense, I try, if possible or appropriate, to talk to people who are just playing
around and get them serious about what we’re trying to do and get accomplished. So I
don’t see any special leadership role that I have except that people tend to look at me to
get things done” (Interview, Mayor Shinn, November 22, 2006). A modest and

unpretentious coordinator within the band, Mayor Shinn consistently sets an example of

94

dedication, focus, and perseverance. His informed inquiries during rehearsals along with

his gentle but humorous ribbings are both anticipated and treasured amongst his peers.

3. Tommy Djilas

Favoring jazz music and swing tunes over most concert band arrangements,
Tommy yearns for supplemental playing opportunities and takes pride in the fact that he
has experience on multiple brass and percussion instruments. He is often seen entering
band rehearsals, sans instrument, standing in the doorway, listening. He is selective in the
frequency of his participation, yet the New Horizons Band is clearly an important
component of his existence. Inspired in his youth by jazz trumpeter Harry James, Tommy
once had aspirations of becoming a professional musician, but, in due course, was
challenged by a well-meaning father’s decree: “A musician?! Ms no life!” (Interview,
Tommy Djilas, December 14, 2006). For a variety of reasons, he eventually stopped
playing the trumpet. “Another reason I dropped the horn was I didn’t want to wear
around those dumb uniforms and march in the high school band. I thought they were kind
of silly looking. And I have something against uniforms, too, I guess. I’ve resisted buying
a green New Horizons shirt. I wear a green shirt I already have” (Interview, Tommy
Djilas, December 14, 2006). While Tommy may appear to be reticent, he is always

willing to talk, eager to please, fiiendly, extremely clever, and masterfully impish.
4. Amaryllis

Having taken piano lessons as a young girl, Amaryllis now stands quietly at the

back of the room in the percussion section with a pair of black-tipped plastic mallets in

95

her hands. Ordered by the movements of her forearms, the mallets, black tips pointing
upward, move up and down to the pulse of the music established by the band sitting in
front of her. Amaryllis’s piano has now been reduced to a portable, hand-me—down
metallic bell set that contains several black and white bars affixed to a slightly dented, red
wooden frame. Her forearms hammer out the music’s pulse, and her lips mouth the

counts of each measure until the time for her entrance draws near. The black tips lower.
She plays. The bell passage that should parallel the line written in the upper woodwinds

is out of rhythm, out of time. Amaryllis shakes her head in both disappointment and
irritation, squeezing her eyes shut until the comers wrinkle. “I can do better than that,”

her body language reveals. She is a kind, gentle soul who possesses a great capacity for
understanding herself as well as others. She is wise and intuitive. Amaryllis genuinely
seeks musical guidance and displays a soft-spoken patience that draws others to her. Soon,
the band plays the passage again, and the black tips lower a second time. On this occasion,
she performs the passage with precision and smiles broadly with radiant satisfaction.

Amaryllis got it right this time.

96

CHAPTER V

“THE PROVERBIAL ONE-ARMED PAPER HANGER”: LESSONS ON
MOTIVATION FROM TWO ADULT “SIT-DOWN” BANDS

Gracie
Papa! The Wells Fargo Wagon is just comin ’ up for the depot!

All
The Wells Fargo Wagon!

[Mayor] Shinn
A likely story! At this hour of the day? Nonsense!... The Wells Fargo Wagon?

Gracie
It could be the band instruments!

[Mayor] Shinn
The band instruments!
(Willson, 1958, Act One, Scene 9, pp. 95-96).

May 2006; Edmonton, Alberta

Harry is dressed in an orange polo shirt wifir a royal blue trademark-

embroidered emblem on fire pocket. His khaki slacks walk over to a brown

chair, fold at the knee, then sit. “These people were all beginners at some

point,” he says. “This band is an amalgamation of several classes.” With

his hands folded in his lap, he surveys fire activity first is gradually

sweeping into Studio A. Harry is deep in thought tonight. His chin dances

back and forth, his lips thinning with each subtle side-to-side movement. It

is Tuesday night, and, alfirough band rehearsal is about to begin, Harry has

97'

bofir the leisure and fire opportunity to causally welcome fire room’s
hastening activity, for fire band’s usual conductor, Mr. Garry Silverrrran,
one of fire assistant directors of fire Cosmopolitan Music Society, will be
conducting the band firis evening. Most assuredly, Harry’s khaki slacks
had found fire perfect place to roost along side fire band and take in fire
proceedings.

Musicians file in and begin unloading fireir wares from fireir
instrument cases and duffle bags, laughing, talking, and teasing one
anofirer as firey extract music folders, pencils, clip-on mute holders, reed
cases, swabs, instrument stands, squirt botfies, towels, and value oil. Mary
Poppins could not have been more agile and adept at pulling items from
her own bag if she had tried. The mood is light, and fire shared history
among fire members is palpable. The 3""' clarinet section appears to be
accounted for while ofirer sectors wifirin fire band have noticeable voids. A
clarinet player wearing a groomed, silver-white handlebar moustache is
one of fire first in fire group to sound his instrument. He begins warming up
by discharging an arsenal of scales. Ofirers soon join in wifir fireir own
personal, individualized sets of warm-up routines.

Eventrrally, a serious-looking, yet pleasant, down-to-earfir woman
stands up in fire 1“ clarinet section and steps near fire podium. The band,
now nearly full, gradually falls silent. Harry remains in his chair. His eyes
are intent and firoughtful, his chin sfill waltzing genfiy to and fro. Poised

alongside fire podium, fire clarinet section leader begins conducting a full-

98

band warm-up: a piano exercise based on fire first five notes of fire Bb
scale, followed by fire scale in its entirety. Next, a tuba intonesa tuning
pitch first is eventually answered by fire euphoniums, trumpets, and horns.
In similar fashion, a clarinet tuning pitch elicits a response from fire oboes,
flutes, bass clarinets, and bassoons. W'rfir fire group seemingly ready for
rehearsal, Garry scales fire podium and begins sight-reading fire mass
band piece, “June is Bustin’ out all Over” from Carousel, firat is to be
played at fire conclusion of fire Season Finale concert on Sunday.

“A slower tempo tonight. And percussion? Be aware firat fire balance
at Winspear will be different,” Garry cautions fire percussionists who are
still managing to place fire final touches on fireir setup by twisting wing
nuts onto cymbal screw mounts, moving and adjusting music stands, and
simultaneously placing sheet music in order on fire same nomadic metal
stands. From fireir demeanor and fireir frequency of eye contact wifir fire
conductor, fire percussion section appears to be an extremely diligent
group.

Later in fire rehearsal, Garry reviews anofirer song and conducts
using wide, sweeping gestures to illustrate musical line and legato style;
several ensemble members nod along in tempo, watching his arm mofions,
knowingly. Next, a rhyfirmic figure firat has been problematic for fire
ensemble is addressed by fire conductor. When fire same figure is played

inaccurately once again, a curly brown-haired flute player in fire front row

99

regards firis error by furrowing her brow disapprovingly, her dark-rimmed
glasses drooping in tandem wifir fire downward slope of her grimace.

Tempo is up now, but fire band keeps slowing. “You’ve got to push
fire melody,” fire director insists as he addresses firose in fire band who
have been charged wifir maintaining fire integral walking bass line. “Eu_s_l_r_
the melody along.” At a different moment, “Careful, flutes, don’t hang on.”
He smiles mischievously firen continues: “Nate will be here Sunday for fire
concert!” To firis, anofirer fiute player in fire front row cringes awkwardly,
and fire band moves on to anofirer piece.

“As we play faster, what will we have to do wifir articulafions?” fire
conductor inquires.

“Shorter,” someone calls out.

“Right, shorter,” comes fire response from fire podium.He counts,
“1-2-3-4,” firen clicks his tongue in fire same tempo: click-click-click-click.
Garry asks fire enfire ensemble to clap fire rhyfirm of fire low brassllow
reed melody to solidify fire tempo. “Very good,” he concludes. Deeper in
fire rehearsal, individual sections of fire music are deconstructed firrough
examining fire different composifional and dynamic components and are
soon reconstructed — whole-part-whole teaching. “Try to [gem on firose
quarter notes,” he urges a soloist. Finally, Garry asks fire percussion
section to add direction to fire final chord by adding a slight crescendo.

“We’re well on our way. We’re well on our way,” he says calmly.

100

The tempo on the fourfir song is unstable and disjointed. “Tenors,
how long are you playing firose notes for me? Just a shade longer.
Clarinets are just a shade too short.” They listen and adjust. “I don’t wanna
call you guys button pushersl” Garry jokingly chides fire tenor saxophones.
“One more time,” he says, “we need to get setfied down.” On firis particular
run-through, members of fire 2"" clarinet secfion sway and bounce to fire
dance as firey play, seemingly fire only ones in fire ensemble, aside from
firose tapping fireir feet, who are externally expressing fire rhyfirmic pulse.
Unexpectedly, Garry cuts off fire band mid-phrase. He brings his palms
togefirer, firen spreads his arms out to fire side, palms down, and gracefully
lowers his limbs in a slow, deliberate descent, giving him time to
apparenfiy manufacture a verbal diagnosis of fire problem. His body
subsequenfiy bows and defiates. “Sorry,” he says wearily. “My fault, my
fault, my fault, my fault, my fault, my fault, my fault. I missed firat cue.” The
band is quiet and respectful; fire secfion of fire band firat was cheated out
of fire alleged cue does not react or judge. It is as if fire room breafired,
“Patience. Don’t worry — all of firis will be remedied soon.”

Taking advantage of some much-needed off-task behavior, Garry
shares wifir fire ensemble fire Eugene Migliaro Corporon legendary “sit-
down band” tale. Like adolescent campers huddled around a modest,
crackling bonfire, fire band sits enfirralled as Garry, himself chuckling,
weaves togefirer fire minutiae of fire account. As it happened, once upon a

time, fire revered conductor jokingly referred to concert bands, considered

101

by some to be bofir the physical and philosophical antifireses of marching
bands, as “sit-down” bands. While some of fire band members react to
Garry’s story wifir genuine amusement expressed firrough a variety of
nasal snorts and chorfies, ofirers react only wifir polite smiles. It would not
be unfit Garry addresses members of fire brass section in a subsequent
part of fire rehearsal firat firis tale would be resurrected by fire membership
and would take on a new life of its own: “Trumpets,” fire conductor says, “I
hate to ask you firis, but would you play louder firere?”

“We M stand up,” someone says, to which anofirer member
retorts, “This is a sit-down bandl” Consumed wifir gales of laughter, fire
ensemble symbolically adopts firis expression as one of fireir own, an
inside joke firat has now been made personal and unique, a legendary tale
firat has achieved a new life and fresh recognition.

The band breaks for a few minutes, and most meander into fire
adjacent lounge to grab a cup of coffee, snack on some popcorn, use fire
facilities, purchase a ficket for fire 50I50 raffle, or simply chat. Between sips
of coffee, conversations eleganfiy shift between children in college, new
homes and remodeling projects, caring for elderly parents, car troubles,
and, remarkably, stories of firose in fire band batfiing disease and ofirer
healfir-related issues. Before long, fire lights in fire concession area flash
off and on several times, and people begin wrapping up fireir multiple

conversations, firrowing away their foam coffee cups, and making their way

102

back to fireir seats for fire second half of rehearsal. The mood is still light-
hearted and quite energetic.

Once everyone is seated and fire last joke has been chronicled in the
brass section, fire band manager makes several announcements that
include signing up for fire annual summer band performance series and
naming fire winner of tonight’s coveted 50I50 raffle. Garry is to fire side of
the ensemble, listening. He is reserved for only those musical tasks firat
only he can do; all ofirer administrative duties are delegated to sections
leaders, fire band managers, and fire Board. When asked to pass around a
summer band list so firose interested in playing could sign fireir names,
words of caution accompany fire instructions wifir fire desire to also obtain
a balanced instrumentation: “We don’t want 50 flutes -”

“Or trumpets!” a quick-witted bass clarinet interrupts. To firis, fire
trumpets begin jibber-jabbering incoherenfiy, swiveling fireir heads back
and forfir like a string of birds on an electric wire. Next, Lady Luck holds
the winning number drawn in fire 50I50 raffle for fire second week in a row,
to which fire band releases a collective gasp. “Fixedl Fixed!” someone
shouts, and fire room explodes wifir laughter. Slightly crestfallen, Lady
Luck slinks up to fire front to claim her booty from fire band manager, then
returns to her seat, smiling. Once fire teasing ceases, anofirer round of
tuning commences. This time, firough, fire clarinet section leader gives fire
band solfege hand signs as firey play fire tuning sequence - sol-la-ti-do —

and even walks into fire middle of fire ensemble to increase fire proximity

103

between her and fire sections not yet able to match pitch or play in tune.
She handles herself like someone whohas had musical experience and
instruction. Once satisfactory adjustment have been made, Garry returns
to the podium to begin work on a piece of historic proportions.

Working on refining fire dactyl rhyfirms embedded in a Renaissance
suite arranged for band, Garry encourages fire group. “Make every note
count,” he says. He sings fire rhyfirm to his student wifir inflection and
nuance. “Things are rhyfirmically driven at firis point in fire piece.” He is
struggling wifir how to aid fire ensemble in playing fire refined, dance-like
qualities of fire dactyl rhyfirm more musically. Eifirer out of frustration for
fire situation or trust in his own abilities — perhaps bofir — Garry attempt to
show non-verbally what he is wanting musically from fire players. As if he
is manipulated by some unseen force, fire conductor contort his body like
a marionette wifir twisted strings, leaps off fire podium, then relaxes and
setfies into a pose. initially, his right hand latches onto his back as if he
were in pain. Then, leading wifir fire left'wrist, he eleganfiy extends his left
hand out to his side, daintily gripping fire hand of an imaginary dance
partner wifir his firumb and index finger. Whilst fire left pinky is extended,
he playfully bats his eyelashes and begins strutting in front of fire band,
moving his hips and feet in synchrony wifir fire fantasy dactyl rhyfirm
droning away in his mind.

Meanwhile, fire band, in complete and utter shock, sit back in fireir

chairs, roaring at fire spectacle firat is taking place on fire stage in front of

104

them. A catatonic woodwind player in fire front row moufirs in
astonishment and embarrassment, “O-h m-y g-o-s-h.”

Lady Silvennan firen completes her demonstration by tripping over
her own feet when fire dactyl rhyfirm inexplicably falters, sending her
tumbling forward and to fire side. Alas, she composes herself quickly,
adjusting her hair and bodice, and continues to dance a few more strides in
fire comfortable flow of fire recovered cadence. Then, as quickly as it
appeared, fire caricature vanishes.

As fire cacophony of applause, sniggers, and wolf whisfies subsides,
Garry reminds fire musicians how important tone and rhythm are to firis
particular movement, concluding wifir, “it's style and timing we’re after
here. Remember, firis is fire Top 40 from 1551! my; got to create fire
energy.” His baton raises, and fire band plays fire same passage wifir not
only an improved sense of tone, but also a marked increase of nuance, a
stable sensation of time, and a heightened impression of musical
awareness. The illustration worked. it intention was realized by fire

performers.

Data Collection and Analysis Summary
I collected data describing the behaviors and attitudes of adult participants in

instrumental music as well as their reasons for continued participation and the various
modes of formal and informal music learning that they encountered. The data sources

included field notes from observations, participant observations, interview transcripts,

105

and audio-recordings of adult music rehearsal sessions. As the study progressed, several
codes emerged as recurring trends and ideas: early experiences in music; denied or
delayed access to music instruction; coercion of music participation; inspiration and
aspiration to participate in music; motivation; individual and collective identities; being a
part of a musical community; power sharing among band members and conductors;
health; and finally, teaching and learning styles related to self—directed behaviors.

Additionally, every person possesses both the unquestionable freedom and the
irrefutable ability to view any situation through their own unique set of lenses that have,
in the end, been cast not only fi'om personal experiences, but the richness with which
those experiences have occurred and the subsequent reactions to those situations.
Acknowledging my own set of lenses that I bring to this research, I submit that the
components I identified as being central themes in the stories shared by members of the
Cosmopolitan Music Society and the New Horizons Band were significant to me, and
perhaps to me alone (see Appendix E and Appendix F). Recognizing that other observers
may identify other elements of interest, I sought to view these cases, as stipulated in

Chapter 3, from different perspectives by triangulating the research.

Codes of Incentive
Early Influences
Several informants spoke to fire attraction that music had in their formative years
as a youth or teenager. While this appeal occurred early in their lives, the draw to

participate in music, nevertheless, continued into adulthood.

106

I remember when I was younger hearing Leroy Anderson and some of the
music he played, and I just thought, “Oh, that would be fim to be able to
make some of those diflerent sounds. ” I tried at one point to play a

friend ’s French horn and couldn ’t get a no_te out of it, so I thought maybe

percussion would be something that I could make a sound with (Interview,

Amaryllis, February 1, 2007).

I had a girlfiiend in school and she played violin, and I thought, “Oh,

what a wonderful thing to be able to play with a bunch of other people. ”

So I think that’s been simmering since Grade 6. . . and when I heard . .

Cosmo. . . had a beginner band, I was thrilled to death to think that there

was an opportunity that I could now participate in a group (Interview,

Ethel Toffelmier, June 2, 2006).

Inspired by jazz trumpeter Harry James, Tommy discusses the interplay of
musical, promotional, and social variables that he recalls being the most pivotal in his
development as a consumer of jazz music.

NK: What was it about Harry James’s music that was so attractive to you?

TD: Well, the sound, of course, but maybe because I’d seen him in movies

— Springtime in the Rockies. I remember my dad, that’s one of the few

movies my dad took me to. And I think Betty Grable was in that, and I

don’t know if he was married to Betty Grable at the time. At 10, I was

probably too young to appreciate it. (Twitches eyebrows and smirks) But
many years later when I was an undergraduate, I went to a campus dance

where he played. I was next in line to get his autograph during the break,

107

and he said, “That’s all.” So I had to forge his name on a program for my

date who wanted an autograph. I didn’t really care. She didn’t believe me,

though, so it didn’t work (Interview Transcript, Tommy Djilas, December

14, 2006).

Informants, like Marcellus and Winthrop, also raise the matter of how critical the
military and service bands were in leaving a positive impression that eventually guided
their subsequent selection of an instrument as an adult.

You know, when I listened to a good band [police band], I don ’t know,

something within me just: “I wish I could do that. ” I was amazed

(Interview, Marcellus Washburn, May 30, 2006).

NK: What was it that drew you to the trumpet?

WP: There was never any music in schools at that time, but there were
always army bands, military bands, and police bands growing up. And I
think it was the tone, the sound. I always enjoyed listening to bands, and. . .
maybe the image of the trumpet was what drew me to it.

NK: And what did that image entail?

WP: It seemed to be the “lead” in the band. And maybe that was part of
my psyche, was part of my downfall (laughs)!

NK: (Laughs)

WP: I wanted to lead all the time, and that didn’t always work. I think the
trumpets always seemed to stand out and they all seemed to be the leader.

And of course we’ve learned since then that the trumpets do not always

108

lead the music (laughs), but yeah, it sort of fit in with my ego at that time

(Interview Transcript, Winthrop Paroo, June 1, 2006).

Inspired by the Suzuki teaching approaches he witnessed over forty years ago,
Harry relates how the notion of sound before sight, as practiced in language acquisition,
challenged his own musical upbringing. Harry attributes this, then, to not only an
enlightened teaching style, but to the impetus for working with adult beginners.

Unlike the European slap-over-the-wrist when you make a mistake and

didn ’t play a Bb when it was marked Bb, this never stopped a Suzuki

concept person. First of all, we ’re gonna fly, and we 're gonna

experience what this is all about before we ever tell ‘ya how to may] it.

And when a child starts to say, “Mom-ma! ” and “Dad-da! ” we don ’t put

our hand over their mouth and say, “M until you can read it. Don’t

you M utter another sound until you can EM on a piece of paper. ”

Well, you can imagine this old guy, you know, my background growing up,

because that ’s m what happened in my place. “That ’s in 4/4 and

we’ll count it, you know. That ’s an ‘A ’ and it ’sfirst and second [valves], ”

you know, all of that. Before we had any chance of enjoying this or getting

turned on by it or anything, the attrition rate of people who might have

been musicians by the system in which I was raised must have had an

unbelievable number of people who said, “The Mk with it ” (Interview,

Harry Pinchin, May 31, 2006).

109

Denied or Delayed Access to Music Instruction

While some of the participants’ voices referred to the supportive and nurturing
approaches that were displayed by parents, teachers, relatives, and peers in their musical
endeavors, others were met with opposition by their elders, and, for a multitude of
reasons including finances, a lack of interest or time, shifts in priorities, and devalued
perceptions of music, were denied access to certain arenas held within the musical
community. Many informants seem to have successfully put into perspective their
delayed or denied entrance and have come to terms with the motives substantiating their
barred access.

We were very poor. My dad said he couldn ’t buy me one, and I understand

why now. We were starting a family retail business. Money was very

tight. . . I begged my parents for a long time to get me a trumpet and they

finally did My dad finally bought a $10 trumpet, which was a bit of

money. . . When I said I was interested in becoming a professional

musician, he said, “A Mian? That ’s no life! ” And I can see his point

my. But M I really didn ’t see it (Interview, Tommy Djilas, December

14,2006)

Like Tommy, Marcellus was also shaped during his formative years by a well-
meaning parent who denied access to the guitar, but who did, in fact, encourage a degree
of musicianship by requiring Marcellus to take piano lessons. In this particular instance,
the coercion of compulsory music participation fostered both resentment and apathy

toward music, and this, coupled with the unique interpersonal dynamics that existed

llO

between Marcellus and his piano teacher, did not afford Marcellus a positive musical
experience as a boy.

I grew up where there was no opportunity for me to take music lessons

other than piano. I always wanted to play guitar, and my dad was dead set

against it. He said, “Only hippies play the guitar!” So that was out! But

he encouraged me to learn piano, but I wasn ’t the least bit interested, and

I went just to please him. . . The teacher was very strict. If your hand

position was not right, she had a ruler, and she’d go like that (makes

striking motion) on your knuckles, so 1 Med that! I said, “Hell with it! I

don ’t want to go through this ” (Interview, Marcellus Washburn, May 30,

2006).

Years later, Marcellus, now an adult, responds with excitement and inquiry to a
community newspaper add urging those who are interested to join an adult beginning
band. Once again, Marcellus is temporarily rerouted, but remains steadfast in his desire to
play the instrument of his choice.

One day I saw this add in the community newspaper. . . So I said, “That’s

weird. Why would they @ this? ” So I told my wife, “I’m gonna go and

check this out. ” And she said, “Do you think you ’1! ever play? ” And I said,

“Yeah! Of course, if there ’s an opportunity, I ’11 play! ” I wanted to play [a

certain instrument], and they said, “No. There ’s three people already. You

can ’t play [ that instrument]. You get the clarinet. ” I said, “Sony! Not
interested ”..I was determined to play [my first choice] (Interview,

Marcellus Washburn, May 30, 2006)

111

In contrast, Zaneeta mentions that she still second-guesses a decision she felt
compelled to make as an adult and ponders whether her journey through the course of
being an adult beginner would have been shaped differently had she been able to select
the instrument that was her first choice.

. . . they told me no; to choose the bassoon. I wasn ’t clear why. They said

it was expensive, but I thought, “ Well, really, that’s my business. ” But

also that it was difficult to play or something? So, I [chose another

instrument] but have lived to regret that several times, though, that

decision (Interview, Zaneeta Shinn, June 2, 2006).

Motivation

MacLean’s (1981) notion that motivation for lifelong learning “encompasses
those experiences in any setting nurtured by any motivation, which improves capabilities
for developing one’s own personality and for integrating one’s lifestyle with the human,
natural, and social environments in which one chooses to live” (p. 1) is evident in the
accounts of several informants in this study. For various reasons — social, musical, and
personal — the informants were compelled to respond to their situations out of such
variables as pride, recognition, allegiance and commitment to the group, a sense of
responsibility, the drive of competition, anxiety, and even fear.

Eulalie, who admittedly has no qualms about being judged by others because of
her “competitive spirit” (Interview, Eulalie Mackecknie Shinn, June 2, 2006), is, like
many others, motivated to practice if challenges and high expectations are placed on her

and if recognition and acknowledgement for an industrious work ethic are bestowed.

112

[The conductor] gave out a song one week, and said, “Eulalie, there’s a
solo part for you, ” so I had it ready for the next week. The rest of the band
couldn ’t play their parts so we put it away, and I was so disappointed,
‘cause I thought, “Oh good I get to work hard at something and try to do

my best. ” And I worked really hard to make sure I had it ready, and I did.

And then all of a sudden, “Oh. No one else is ready for it. ” So it ’s like this

slap, you know? So after that, I probably don ’t practice as much. If I have

a challenge, I will practice. If I don ’t have a challenge, I think, “Why

practice? ” (Interview, Eulalie Mackecknie Shinn, June 2, 2006).

Motivated by the flesh excitement of learning a new instrument, Marcellus
discusses his determination to not only succeed at playing his instrument but to also
become a role model for his children in both work ethic and commitment.

I spent a [Qt of time elm evening [practicing] because I was sq excited

and I was s9 into it. If I couldn ’t practice in the evening, I’d wake up in

the morning, and my kids [1M1 it: “Da-ad! ” But, you know, I just said,

“No, I ’ve taken this on, I ’m 41 years old, and I ’m gonna see this through,

0K? ” (Interview, Marcellus Washburn, May 30, 2006).

Addressing one the unique facets of working with the senior adult population,
Marian recounts the motivations expressed by some of her students in their efforts to
cope with life changes. Implications for acknowledging the social constructs found in
ensembles are evident in Marian’s account.

They ’re intrinsically motivated motivated by the desire to learn And well,

the social aspect is huge to New Horizons. It ’s huge... they ’re truly

113

motivated to learn, and I’ve had a couple people say that joining the band
saved their life — they had just retired, become a widow, and have a
reason now to get up every day (Interview, Marian Paroo, March 20,
2007).

Tommy’s affection for jazz and the social components of belonging to a band are

brought to the foreground through his discussion of what he values in rehearsals, how he

views his role in the group, and how he is self-selective in rehearsal and performance

functions. How he negotiates his time between playing comet and the drum set is still

troublesome to him and is one of the issues that influence his levels of motivation.

I’m not motivated . . to really be a good musician. I’m not gonna make a
career out of it. I ’m not gonna play in big bands and so on, so the social
aspect is good And I play as much and as well on the tunes that I like —
Georgia [on my Mind] and stufl like that, but what I Leilly hate about it is
that I’m playing a comet on it. . . not. . . the drum set. . . But it’s a concert
arrangement anyway, not a big band arrangement. It still galls me
(Interview, Tommy Djilas, December 14, 2006).

Initially motivated to improve his playing skills through trepidation, Marcellus

reveals a concern that can accompany the beginning stages of learning a music

instrument. He highlights, perhaps, fire potential for similar thought processes among

children as well as adults. Noting his journey with smiles and several laughs, he believes

making everyone feel at ease in the beginning stages is important.

We had no clue what we were doing. Myself specifically, had never

touched an instrument, so the anxiety level was quite high when you know

114

the expectations. It ’s like [a] child and [a parent] if the [parent] is very

strict (laughs), like. . . a bit of a fe_a_r_. . . Quite a bit of anxiety. . . You know,

“I ’m not performing at [the] expected levels, so I shouldn ’t continue ”

(Interview, Marcellus Washburn, May 29, 2006).

Adhering to the performance vein, several informants spoke to the dichotomy
between rehearsing and performing. While Eulalie is certainly motivated by preparing
and performing music, Mrs. Paroo, in contrast, addresses the tension between musical
preparation and musical performance, citing the pragmatic, nurturing approach Harry
uses with the ensemble. Mrs. Paroo also speaks to the process of socializing oneself to a
piece of music that is, at first glance, disagreeable or out of one’s realm of experience.

Now oddly enough, I don ’t particularly enjoy the performances. I always

like it after they’re over with. I think, “Oh, wasn ’t that M! I really

enjoyed that!” But the thought of doing it in the first place I find quite

terrorizing. But Harry says, “You can ’t just do that. You’ve got to have a

goal; you have to perform. That’s why you ’re playing. ” [probably could

exist on no performances at all. . . I always find it amazing. I wasn’t

particularly fond of that thing [Shawl Dance] the first time I heard it, and

I thought, “Oh, M. ” But last night, I really quite liked it. It ’s certainly

not a diflicult part, which is fig All the better for mg! (Interview, Mrs.

Paroo, June 2, 2006).

Finally, Winthrop combines the social, musical, and cooperative
motivational factors he experiences within an intergenerational group. He

summarizes not only the changing face of the band but also the integrity with

115

which the members of the section are treated, how they are viewed by others, and

the subsequent interpersonal dynamics shared between the younger adults and the

older adults within the section.
We’re bringing a lot of younger people into the band because those of us
who have been around for 3 0-odd years are starting to get towards the
end of not being able to do it any more. But I think it’s a good thing
because, [fl fiom a social aspect, it keeps us all involved difikrently. And
then fi'om the music part of it, we find that you ’re getting young people
coming in who are just gage—mly coming out of school or a band who are
m skilled, so it makes us sharpen our skills a little bit as well. I ’ve got
two kids sitting beside me now — I sgy kids but they ’re in their late-20s —
who haven ’t played for a couple of years but who are m very good And
flag had to sharpen up a little bit because I’ve got this very pretty young
girl sittin ’ beside me and she ’s playing very well (laughs). So, it creates a
challenge, which is good It creates incentive. I ’m not sure, but I think the
younger people seem to enjoy our company because maybe {£19,212
discovering we ’re not a bunch of old fogies either. We accept them as,
“UK, you ’re a trumpet player, ” gig, “You’re 18 and I ’m 70. ” It’s,
“You ’re a trumpet player, and you play well” (Interview, Winthrop Paroo,

June 1, 2006).

116

F low

Inspiration that is governed by intrinsic and extrinsic forces and beliefs can launch
discussion regarding the concept of flow (Csikszentmihalyi, 1975). This discourse
hypothesizes that musical activity that provides a balance between both skill level and
task difficulty tends to be the most rewarding for an individual. Consequently, a person
experiencing flow, then, may be motivated to continue or even intensify his or her
participation in a musical ensemble. With this in mind, it is important to highlight the
interplay between rewards and fulfillment, and frustrations and challenges, which
generate distinct relationships amid connotations of mood, emotion, and levels of comfort.

Making positive relationships between prior musical experience and current (and
firture) interest in music, both Amaryllis and Winthrop reveal their delight in acquiring
new skill sets, fire accrual of knowledge, and an appreciation for the learning process
itself.

I like learning something new, trying something different and learning it,

and I guess I like percussion because there’s so many dijfirent

instruments to learn to play and that makes it a challenge everyday! A real

variety (Interview, Amaryllis, February 1, 2007).

I ’ve always enjoyed all types of music, but being able to play in the band

and understand how it comes together and expanding my knowledge are

the things that keep me here. God, there’s gl_wqm something new to learn

(Interview, Winthrop Paroo, June 1, 2006).

Winthrop also chronicles the firought processes firat are often inextricably linked

to music learning in an ensemble setting. Interweaving the concepts of technique, style,

117

and dynamic contrasts, he creates meaningful, inference-based reasoning for assessing

independent musicianship. It is through the emergence of inference-based reasoning that

one may be able to measure whether music learning has occurred.
NK: What kinds of things have made you work hard?
WP: I think getting fire challenge of a piece that’s not a Grade 2. Maybe
it’s a Grade 5 all of a sudden. Now mat becomes a challenge, and y_e_s_, firat
you have to think, “9E, now I’ve got to do something with tl'_rr__°s one. This
is not just a read-through and then we’ll play it three or four times and it’ll
be fine for the day.” This is what Harry and [the others] have been doing —
they toss in a challenging piece. They’re not really difficult, but they’re
challenging because it’s a change of the QM, a change of fire {5%, and
learning to play in the style of the music, in the e_r_a of the music. It’s not a
Sousa march. Everyfiring’s not a Sousa march; everything’s not a British
military march. We’re playing 15003 music, and you have to play a style
and you have to remember and firink of what the style of music was in that
era. And you have to adjust your playing accordingly. A forte is not
always a forte as we know. . . I mean, I’ve had firis argument with sour—e
members over fire years: “Well, you told me to play forte — on fire _l_a_st
piece!” Well, that was a march. This is a pastoral piece. This is something
a little romantic. It’s forte’s a little different, and what is a forte within the
context of what you’re doing? (Interview Transcript, Winthrop Paroo,

June 1,2006).

118

When her musical background wrangles with the present-day expectations she
embraces for her band, Eulalie candidly discloses her frustrations when those
expectations are not met. While the disconnect between her two experiences is made
clear, she does provide a foundation for assuming a leadership role wifirin the band.

As soon as we introduce something a bit more diflicult, they ’re [the

members are] really fiustrated They ’re really, really frustrated And so I

think it ’s difficult to keep a balance somehow. But at [as] we have

different levels [ of bands ] here. . . Not moving fast enough [is fiustrating].

I get bored very easily. . . A fler the first month, I knew the notes and I

knew what I was doing and so it ’s like, “Let ’s move along here. ” I’ve got

a little conducting background and stufl like that, and so I just find I ’m

critical sometimes and I really need to stifle that. Just because someone

does it one way doesn’t mean 1 could do it any better, but I always think,

“Well, I know there are other ways, and I know we could do iris; and I

know we could do Lat. ” And so I just have to kind of just keep it all inside

of me. And I do that and I accept it. So that’s probably where my

fiustration lies, but what I M11 enjoy is, because I have the background

I know [the conductor] relies on me a lot, too. The people around me ask

me questions, and that ’s nice, as long as I don ’t lead them astray

(Interview, Eulalie Mackecknie Shinn, June 2, 2006).

Sharing both the rewards and the frustrations of ensemble participation, Ethel, an
accomplished pianist, receives true gratification from hearing an ensemble, unlike her

piano, produce several simultaneous tones in different registers. On the other hand, it is

119

the lack of practice by some band members that often becomes an aggravation for Ethel
and subsequently interrupts flow.

It ’5 being able to produce a wonderful sound with a bunch of people who

are only playing one note at a time. It’s the coordination and the

camaraderie, you know? Being with these people is. . . thrilling. And when

we learn a piece and we do a really good job on it, yes! We b.1012 You

kn_o_w when you’ve done a really good job, personally, as well as the whole

band . . If there ’3 a section that does not perform well or does not

practice, it can get a little fi-ustrating. And I ’m sure it really gets very

frustrating for the conductor, because after all, in one night a week, they

[the conductors] really can’t gtfloml twenty minutes working with one

group of instruments trying to bring them up to snufl when you know what

it takes is just wood-shedding. . . just M! (Interview, Ethel

Toffelmier, June 2, 2006).

Winthrop discusses fire self-reflective awareness he has developed over the years
through his participation in band. Interestingly, he self-corrects his own wording as he
steers his way firrough the telling of his own journey of growfir, relating how this
awareness has impacted his ability to think about music wifir a more sophisticated level
of responsiveness.

I think you accept that this [being part of a band] is happening to you, and

yes, you want to be a part of it, and yes, your life has been enhanced by it.

I’m able to listen to music away fi'om here a lot better. (Siglrs) “A lot

better ” is a terrible expression, isn’t it? A lot more “understandingll’. ”

120

And “more appreciative” is probably a better way of putting it. I can

appreciate now. I don ’t like everything I hear, but that ’s personal choice.

But what I it; hear, I can say, “Oh. Yeah. No, I hadn ’t heard 116p before,

because my ear wasn ’t tuned to it. ” Listening is probably one of the things

I’ve developed probably more. My wife used to say I never did that very

well (laughs). Selective hearing, I think it’s called... There are times when

you play a damn good concert and you sit down and listen to it on the

recording and you say, “0000! Yes. Now t_h_a_t was worth it. M was

worth it. ” M there are frustration times when you go to the Mid- West

and you hear the Lally big bands and you hear Winton Marsal is and say,

“OK, my horn ’s goin ’ in the river!” (Interview, Winfirrop Paroo, June 1,

2006)

Finally, for Mayor Shinn, it is fire sheer, unadulterated freedom of being able to
pick up an instrument and play music that drives his motivation and stimulates his sense
of flow. Having had a hiatus from his original instrument, the euphonium, for nearly 40
years, Mayor Shinn discusses how fire activity of learning a new instrument, the
trombone, has been energizing and revitalizing.

I’d always wanted to play the trombone and never had an opportunity to

do that. I had some time on my hands because I had just retired and

decided it was a great time to get started, and I enjoyed it afler the first

couple of sessions well enough to stay on with it. I really enjoy being able

to pick up a horn and being able to play popular songs, jazz songs, some

of the concert tunes, the challenge of being able to read music again and

121

sometimes hitting the right notes and getting the rests and the counts.
That ’s a challenge. It keeps the mind active and fresh (Interview, Mayor

Shinn, November 22, 2005).

The Art of Hanging Wallpaper: Garnishing the Scaffolds of Adult Learning

In firis chapter I have explored some of the ways in which adult learners have
been inducted into the realm of music learning, either by way of self-determination,
intrinsic motivation, or even extrinsic coercion, and how they have been motivated to
continue the process of learning a music instrument. Echoing the findings of Brookfield
(1986), events occurring early in life are undoubtedly influential in determining
subsequent pafirs of interest or areas of study, and denied or delayed access to music
instruction appears to have generated a sense of urgency for filling a deficiency in firis
content-specific area. Similarly, Dewey (1933) wrote firat humans, following reflective
processes, often “act in deliberate and intentional fashion to attain future objects or to
come into command of what is now distant and lacking” and that firis reflection process
“converts action that is merely appetitive, blind, and impulsive into intelligent action” (p.
17).

Finally, personal growth from exposure to music, performance opportunities,
challenges and rewards, the quality of instruction, and working together with peers are
strong motivators for continued participation among adults. Because adults’ backgrounds
are widely varied, the speed with which new knowledge is constructed can be, at times,
as powerful and dynamic as the “proverbial one-armed paper hanger” (Interview,

Winthrop Paroo, June 1, 2006).

122

Examining the music-making habits of adults promotes a greater understanding of fire
needs, preferences, and psychological implications associated with adult learning, which,
in turn, can help place meaning and value on the experiences of adult musicians. Viewing
adults’ concept of self-image as it relates to issues of identity, being a part of a
community, healfir, and power sharing within the musical conununity is fire subject of
Chapter 6. Understanding fire characteristics of bofir pedagogical and andragogical
instruction and learning, perhaps the crux of firis research, is further explored in Chapter

7.

123

CHAPTER VI

“IT’S BEEN MY LIFE”: COMPONENTS OF IDENTITY, SELF -CONCEPT, AND
POWER WITHIN THE COMMUNITY

Townspeople
We can be cold as our falling thermometers in December
If you ask about the weather in July,
And we ’re so by God stubborn we can stand touchin ’ noses
For a week at a time and never see eye-to—eye,
But we’ll give you our shirt and a back to go with it
If your crops should happen to die.

Farmer
So what the heck, you ’re welcome. Glad to have you with us.

Farmer & Wife

Even though we may not ever mention it again.
(Willson, 1958, Act One, Scene 2, pp. 27-28).

Codes of Identity

How people perceive themselves and ofirers has a certain amount of influence on

how people leanr, what educational outcomes result, what is exhibited in reaction to those

outcomes, and how successive leanring will take place. An awareness of the concept of

“self” in fire teaching and learning process can be, as Woody (2004) projected, fostered

by generating inspiration, establishing a classroom environment that is conducive to fire

creation of musical rewards, and developing a support network of peer musicians. This

chapter is devoted to examining fire components of individual and group identity, with

special emphasis placed on musicianship, acknowledging one’s role within the musical

community, healfir, and power sharing.

124

Self-Identity

Remaining active as a senior adult and maintaining a social identity wifirin the
community was a priority held by several of fire participants. This identity appears to
serve not only as source of motivation for individuals, but also as a source of inspiration
for dynamic living. Comparing himself to his peers who may choose to lead dormant
lives in fireir retirement, Mayor Shinn embraces his identity as a band member by
expressing ownership, pride, and gratification in choosing a rewarding and stimulating
activity. Furthermore, his resolute nature in resisting a sedentary lifestyle is unmistakable.
Amaryllis, like Mayor Shinn, also mentions one of fire many benefits she reaps from
active band participation, citing firat remaining involved wifir fire ensemble combats the
temptation to become complacent.

It ’s an interesting thing —— you can tell people of our age and our social

group that you ’re playing in band and they find it kind of interesting. I

find that a lot of people have had that kind of interest, but have not

activated it or actuated it. That feeling that you ’re doing something a little

bit out of the ordinary is of interest to you. That you polio! be at home

watching television or something like that isn ’t an option (Interview,

Mayor Shinn, November 22, 2005).

Well, for one thing, the socialization [is important]. When I retired fiom

work, I brew because I was used to working with people, I live alone and I

needed to be doing something where there were other people involved

because it ’s just too easy to, “Oh, it’s cold today, I don ’t ’ think I’ll go

out. ” “Oh, you brow. . . ” It ’s just too easy to think of mistakes and stay

125

put and become very isolated So the socialization is an important

factor. . . (Interview, Amaryllis, February 1, 2006).

Eulalie is able to balance her independent lifestyle wifir the social aspects of
participating in the band, her career, and her private time working on hobbies. She
expresses a genuine concern for her band-mates and speaks to the camaraderie
experienced within the collective. For Eulalie, fire band experience is her opportunity to
embrace an alternate identity wifirin the context of a large-group setting.

I tend to po_t be a social person. . . Sometimes I like people, sometimes I

prefer not to have people around and so I think a lot of what I enjoy and

what I do is very private and it [being in band] gives me a chance to enjoy

what I do with other people. So it ’s the social aspect. I mean, I could play

at home just as easily as I could play in a group. You wouldn ’t have the

performances as such, but I think just being involved with other people

there ’s that connection with others enjoying the same kind of thing as you

do. And I think I ’ve made a re_al connection with the people here

(Interview, Eulalie Mackecknie Shinn, June 2, 2006).

Determining where one is along the learning continuum may also be a healthy and
useful tool in reflecting on goals, accomplishments, and the degree of contribution to the
collective. Additionally, how students view fireir own learning may provide teachers with
the information needed to improve instruction and tailor specific learning needs.
Consequently, firis visualization process becomes a contributing factor in Eulalie’s

perception of her own position on the learning continuum.

126

NK: What additional thoughts do you have regarding adult education in

music?

EMS: See, I find that difficult, because I’m not really an adult learner, ar_n

I? Not 133111. I did most of my learning when I was young, so I’m not

truly an adult learner. . . I guess as an adult I’m continuing to learn, but I

didn’t 13am as an adult so I probably don’t have a lot of similar feelings to

what some people do. But I still have the will or the want to keep learning,

and that’s exciting. But, I guess I have a bit of a dpirg, but sometimes I

don’t know where to go m the drive (Interview Transcript, Eulalie

Mackecknie Shinn, June 2, 2006).

In ensembles in which there exists a diverse population of occupations,
employment, livelihoods, and hobbies, the process by which others achieve a new
identity wifirin the collective is apparent in Winfirrop’s account. He speaks to fire process
of assimilation into an ensemble, in which one’s occupation becomes a secondary
consideration when compared to the overt gesture of voluntarily assimilating oneself with
another group.

That ’s what you find in a group like this — the diversity of what people do.

And we had one fellow, a hell of a fine trumpet player, a lawyer,

professionally, but he was a member of the local Provincial Parliament.

He used to say he Lov_w_l coming here ‘cause he could play his trumpet.

Evepgbody brew him because of his profile, but nobodv ever talked politics

to him. He said “It ’s great to come here. I can talk music, talk sex, or

whatever. You brow, gavel with the guys and nobody ever asks me

127

anything controversial about politics. ” He said “That ’s wonderfirl. ”

When somebody joins [the band], nobody ever asks them, “What do M

do?” That ’s not the important thing; it ’s “What do you plpy? ” (Interview,

Winthrop Paroo, June 1, 2006).

Noticing fire emerging new identities slowly taken on by his players, Harry
conveys how beginning instrumentalists are socialized into thinking and behaving in new
ways. His account also addresses the monetary resources that are often more accessible —
and perhaps more important — to adult musicians. In Harry’s opinion, adults “do” because
they “can.”

Some of them are still playing the stock Yamaha student clarinets they had

when they were starting out. And with others, whether they are well-to-do

or not, show up the next week with a Bujfet, you know? And we ’re going

from this level of a tuba, and next week, you brow, there ’s a four-valve

[tuba] and the guy ’s got his tuning slide that he ’s all [gestures as if pulling

out a tuning slide] ‘cause he saw somebooy do that, and moving his tuning

slide, putting everything in again, and he ’s s_ti_l_l working on an F major

scale. But they ’ve got this phipg going. And we see all that. Privately, I’ve

gone home on many occasions just smiling, ‘cause bl_eg their hearts. They

got all the s_t_ufif Somebody ’s gone to a clinic somewhere, or they saw

somebody else, and they come back and ppm; they ’re sitting up. I

remember a clarinet player who was a ygyy elementary clarinet player.

Well, he had the stand and the swab, and then the grease, and the thing

with the reed [slaps hands togefirer], he could clip his reed He had no idea

128

wiry he had it, you know, and it used to take him [5 minutes to get set up in

his spot because he had all this stufi’f And I thought, “My God I overdid

my job ” (Interview, Harry Pinchin, May 31, 2006).

Finally, and in summative fashion, Mrs. Paroo places her personal, beautifirlly
simplistic stamp of meaning on the role that band has afforded.

It ’s been my life (Interview, Mrs. Paroo, June 2, 2006).

Group Identity

The challenges and rewards of learning in a group environment where ability
levels fluctuate among members are evident in the accounts of Eulalie and Zaneeta. A
self-proclaimed perfectionist, Eulalie expresses her frustration regarding another band
member; yet, perhaps because of her own recognition of her leadership abilities, she
soon after declares her allegiance and commitment to those in her own cohort.

There ’s a fiellow... who just doesn ’t play anything right. At concerts 1

really have to concentrate because he ’s tootin ’, and n_ot at the right time,

M at the right place, not having a gfirg most of the time what he ’s

doing. . . It drives me crazy because it sounds like we don ’t brow what

we ’re doing, and I feel like it ’s pulling the whole band down. But what do

you do? You don ’t want to hurt that person ’s feelings. Is the performance

th_e most important thing? . . I’m almost afi'aid to go to the other band

because [ don ’t want to leave the other people behind . . So it ’s hard to

even M to go on because I don ’t want to let the band down. So I think

there’s this whole community spirit that ’s really important. And I enjoy

129

being part of it, but it has its frustrations, too (Interview, Eulalie

Mackecknie Shinn, June 2, 2006).

Zaneeta’s humorous report of her own irritation with a fellow musician appears to
have already taken place in many middle school and high school band rooms. Her
account unwittingly supports the idea that perhaps, on some level, children and adults
share more similarities firan differences.

People not coming [to rehearsals] is a fig problem. Stan, who sits next
to me, is always in and out. When he hasn ’t been there, he doesn ’t play
piano where he ’s supposed to play piano, and so he ’s just _blflting. Alma
actually M because he was blasting right at her, so now he ’s next to
mp! And sometimes I (makes sharp pointing gesture with index finger).
Actually I do — I mLke him! Just the other day, we started one of our songs
and he came in at the wrong time and he didn’t even brow he wasn ’t on
the right beat. But Alprg, I think, was poking him [hit time!” (Interview,
Zaneeta Shinn, June 2, 2006).

Zaneeta, though, is quick to embrace the humanistic components found in
group cohesiveness and the problem solving expertise involved in the acts of
protecting and caring for others wifirin the collective. Interestingly, her account
illustrates a unique combination of pedagogy and the self-directedness of
andragogy.

I find that as a group, there have been some wonderfirl times when people

really use mature thinking skills or mature problem solving. And there’s

none of this ganging up peer junk that goes on with kids. For example, a

130

 

 

 

first year member just QM come in on time. And he was having

trouble with the counting, and he ’d get slightly of and when the band

would stop, he ’dplay the last note. I mean, he was Mg! And I was so

impressed with Walter, one of the clarinetists in the group. He said “You
know, why don ’t we invite Daryl to join us [for our next clarinet choir
rehearsal]. ”It was fanggtic, and I thought, “What a kipd thing to do. ”

Absolutely such a kipd way of solving a problem, because I’m sure Daryl

felt awful, and here was Walter saying, “Invite him to join the clarinets

and we’ll see whether this ’11 help him out” (Interview, Zaneeta Shinn,

June 2, 2006).

Equally important can be the issue of how non-members view another group’s
identity, and, in the case of Marian’s tale, how non-members can make uninformed
judgments about the actual merit of a performing group and its members. Not
surprisingly, she ardenfiy defends her students and ultimately equates what she does as a
director as being synonymous with mission work.

One of my biggest frustrations is that other people don ’t get it. _I get

fiustrated with people who make fun of the New Horizons Band How

much courage does it take someone at this point in their life to put

themselves out there to do something either they ’ve m done or haven’t

done in 45 years? And it ’s something that makes s_0_u_n_d so it ’s not like
you’re learning something that only you will brow if you mess up...I was

so oflended after one of our concerts. An area band director came up to

me and said “How can you stand that [one] player? That would make me

131

crazy. ” You know what? That person never played an instrument in their

Lifg. They play this thing at 73 years old! The member had a health

condition last year and has recuperated and is playing in the band again.

You know, I tease about “Who needs to do missionary work in Kenya?”

and all religion aside, I just feel like it ’s almost a mission for me. If I can

at the end of the day make somebody ’s life better, m isn ’t that M?

(Interview, Marian Paroo, March 20, 2007).

Interestingly, Zaneeta eventually shares a compelling story firat traces her firree-
fold journey in negotiating her passage firrough an auditioned-based music program: (1)
acceptance by others from a separate band culture, (2) assimilation into that band culture,
and (3) admiration of accomplishment from those in her former (and concurrent) band
culture. Navigating through the waters of uncertainly, Zaneeta meets — and gracefully
manages — bofir the spoken and unspoken behavioral codes of each group as well as the
individualized group structures and philosophical tenets practiced among three separate

bands all housed in a single building.

Acceptance

It [auditioning] was _rfly interesting, psychologically. It took a lot of guts
to come on Monday night and walk in there with the band arriving, and
they’re all, “Who are m? What are you doing? ” I mean everyboay ’s
po_l_it_e, but they haven ’t a clue [why I’m there]. I get myself in there, and I
was really pleased But then I had to face Tuesday [Band] the next night. I

had to come back and walk into this building with people who might have

132

sort of seen me around these three people who my husband does work
with. And I thought, “Oh my God What am I gonna say? ” (Interview,

Zaneeta Shinn, June 2, 2006).

Assimilation

 

One person came over and said “So you were in Wednesday Band? ”
“Yes. ” “I thought you could only come in fiom the M1618. to get into
Tuesday band ” And [said “Oh. No. ” I said “I ’ve brown ever since I
was in Wednesday Band that there was always the possibility of
auditioning. ” “Oh. ” And then someone came and said “So how long have
you been playing in Wednesday Band? ” And I said “Five years. ” And
they said “Well, you ms; have had extensive music before you started ”
And I thought, “Isn ’t this interesting!” Because I brow people come i_n
fi'om the outside all the time, but it was obviously a ILttlg bit threatening.
So I left Tuesday night thinking, “Well, 11g was an interesting
experience! ” And I Mp1 have a problem with the music, which was my
concern. I thought, “Oh, OK! That’s all gonna be OK” (Interview,

Zaneeta Shinn, June 2, 2006).

Admiration
The reaction was totally difikzrent [in Wednesday Band]: “You ’re kidding!
Fantastic! ” And I think from their point of view, it was like, “Oh my gosh!

[Kg could all do this, too! ” And someone said “Oh yeah, I knew right

133

from the second we met, we knew that you were getting ahead of some of

us. ” And I thought, “What a nice thing to say. ” And several people asked

to pgg the piece of music I played They wanted to see how easy or diflicult

it was (Interview, Zaneeta Shinn, June 2, 2006).

Amaryllis and Eulalie offer additional perceptions of group identity, highlighting
the awareness of and fire necessity for arnicability, peer support, and the inherent bond
firat is generated because of a group identity.

It’s good for us, because there ’s such a variety of people in here, and you

have to kind of get along with everybody. I mean, not just plpy with them,

but, you know, at snack time and before and afier [rehearsal], otherwise

you lose the wholeness of the band (Interview, Amaryllis, February 1,

2007).

I remember our first performance. . . We weren’t very good at that point in

time, but every time we came of stage, everyone was so supportive. They

were so nice: “Oh, good job! Good job! You guys did well, ” you know?

And no one, no one puts you down for Mg (Interview, Eulalie

 

Mackecknie Shinn, June 2, 2006).

Self-Concept as “Musician”

The concept of self as “musician” was a noticeable, recurring trend in the data
linked to identity. Consistent with Pitts’ (2005) research, virtually every participant in
firis study divulged firat group dynamics were a key factor in fireir decision to participate

in an instrumental ensemble. It is also worth mentioning firat an overwhelming majority

134

of the informants did not view themselves as “a musician.” This implication may, in fact,
lend itself toward further inquiry as to fire particular sources that influence the creation of
an identity in music. Marcellus, Tommy, and Winthrop speak to this contradictory
convolution of the self.

NK: Do you consider yourself a musician?

MW: Not yet. Not yet. No.

NK: What makes you say that?

MW: My expectations are very great, and I haven’t fulfilled my

expectations, so I don’t consider myself a musician. . . Because my

expectations for other people are very [high], I don’t consider myself a

musician. . . ye_t! “Yet” is important. I’m firinking of taking lessons, and,

you know, someday I’ll probably consider myself a musician (Interview

Transcript, Marcellus Washburn, May 29, 2006).

TD: 1 don’t, at least anymore, think of a person as a musician unless he
can play well with a group. . . You’ve got to have good timing. . . Good
tone, good timing, especially, and I drew that partly from the difficulty I
have with timing which is partly due to my eyesight and parfiy due to my
elderly brain. . . If you can’t play timing in my estimation, then you’re not
a musician with a capital ‘M.’

NK: So what value would you place on musical understanding in relation
to being able to comprehend more than what you are capable of actually

doing?

135

TD: 1 think that [musical understanding] is @832, I would firink, even more
basic than timing and tone. I can see a chart like Bandology, and I have a
11611 of a time with gut-time, and so I pretty well lay outta that. I go get a
cup of coffee or somefiring if I can manage it (Interview Transcript,

Tommy Djilas, December 14, 2006).

WP: [I consider myself] a very low-end scale musician.

NK: Really. Why do you say that?

WP: I’m a one-night-a-week performer. Because to _mg, a musician is a
professional, and I’m not a professional musician. But I have aspirations

to be (Interview Transcript, Winthrop Paroo, June 1, 2006).

Being Part of a Musical Community

A number of the participants expressed an appreciation for the musical, social,
and personal rewards firat had been afforded through their participation in an adult
ensemble, so much so that they possess a deep-seated desire to give of their time and
efforts by providing fireir services for maintenance, organizational activities, and
volunteer work. Through sincere acts of reciprocity, Winthrop and Ethel discuss how
they believe their labors contribute to the overall sense of community wifirin their
organization.

I do a fair amount of volunteering around the building because I ’ve got so

much pit of this organization that I want to put something back . . I think

a number of people [give back]. This place wouldn ’t m without [people]

136

fixin ’ 11ng and fixin ’ m and stufl like that. And that ’s because we

[Lag all got so much out of it. This was hi_s [Harry’s] idea to go the adult

route. . . and we were fortunate - I’_m fortunate — to be one of the first to

be involved in the adult program. Being in our own building and being a

part of developing this building is just something I ’m very proud of

(Interview, Winfirrop, June 1, 2006).

For me, it’s a sense of belonging. It ’s a community. And over the years,

when [ was working, I wasn ’t able to volunteer to do as many things and

felt badly because I wasn ’t able to because of my work And so [feel an

obligation to dig in now that I’m retired and try and do as much as I

possibly can because I have gotten so whfi'om the band (Interview,

Ethel Toffelmier, June 2, 2006).

Amaryllis and Winthrop also point to the responsibility that band members
assume in generating interest in the arts firrough serving as musical role models for other
musicians, encouraging peers to join and participate in instrumental ensembles, and
setting examples for performance spectators. The community outreach implied by firis
sort of mission work can be seen in not only serving the participants’ relatives and fiiends,
but those in fire universal society as well. It may be through firis process of cross-
existence firat adult musicians begin to mend the fissure that exists between classrooms
and the community. Contributing to firis much-needed overlap between these two
dichotomies may encourage an extension of fire classroom domain into the commrmity

and an extension of the societal domain into the classroom. In dealing with adults who

137

are perhaps more willing to give of their time, firis becomes an especially interesting
prospect.

It’s exciting to see such different music and all the instruments; it makes

me want to get my grandkids into music, and of course, I have absolutely

no control over that! (laughs). . . If they lived close enough, I could say, “I

will M you every so often to a music lesson, ” but I can ’t do that

(Interview, Amaryllis, February 1, 2007).

[Role models] also create that “where it could go to. ” If there are no

bands, what have the kids got to aspire to? It’s like any sport. The good

players inspire the kids to m to that level. I mean, they ’re not all going

to reach it, but when you hear an orchestra or you hear a band — like we

do, and we do a lot of outreach —- you _d_o_ get the kids involved you _dp get

the kids fired up and, “Hey, ” you brow, “here ’3 something where you can

go to! Here ’s where we can w to. ” It ’s good to have somebody who ’s

0 [pg better that you can go listen to and really enjoy them (Interview,

Winthrop, June 1, 2006).

Able to select at will any nrunber of colorful and effective images from his library
of analogies, Harry uses a sailing analogy in order to illustrate how one’s actions in and
out of the ensemble setting can potentially affect the way a group functions. By focusing
on commitment to the immediate community, he reinforces the suggestion that
membership in the group requires hard work and dedication and that this combination

ultimately builds trust and reliance on others to do fireir share for fire collective.

138

I r_re_ve_r_' wanted to give them [beginners] the impression that everybody
was going to be successful, MM could do this, or in any way try to
shape things so that you [they] didn ’t have to practice or that there wasn ’t
a lot of work that had to go into it. And I used every analogy: “I am, by
the way, a sailor. Sailed all my life, but not for money. But that doesn’t
mean that it isn’t important to learn all about the sailing. The more you
learn, the safer it is, the more efiicient you become, and all the rest of it.
And you have the nerve to invite people on board Now we’ve since sailed
all over the Caribbean. Bare-boated under my leadership, and you gptt_a
know you can ’t just sort of say, ‘Well, [ ’m not really interested in M— ’
And so there’s a commitment here that you have to make, even though I ’m
not going into sailing for a living. ” And [ look at that part of my life in the
same way that I want them to look at their music, so I’ve used that little
sailing thing many times. It r_npt_t_t_z_r;s if I don ’t sail well. And it matters if
you don ’t try to do this [makes trumpet fingering gesture], and think about
this [makes woodwind fingering gesture], and this [sits up tall], keep the
air moving, and about all those myriad of things that are going to follow

(Interview, Harry Pinchin, May 31, 2006).

Health
Several participants spoke to the physical and mental issues firey are facing
through the aging process, including memory loss, compromised dexterity, vision

impairment, hearing loss, fatigue, and a reliance on repetitive tasks. Parkinson’s Disease

139

is slowly becoming more apparent in Mayor Shinn’s life, and his honest, matter-of-fact
response is indicative of his resolute stance on remaining active as an adult learner.

One of the biggest issues for me is health. I have a tremor and it ’s getting

more and more difficult to hold the horn and get a proper seal on the lips,

which, on the other hand is a challenge for me and one of the reasons I

would stay with the group as long as I could instead of playing golf . .

Thank God I don ’t have a tuba to carry because I have enough trouble just

getting my trombone and all the other stuff into the building. . . The last

six months I’ve noticed more difliculty in walking and much more

difliculty in holding things steady. Some of that is balanced by medication,

but there ’s really only so much they can do with medication. It just

continues to go. . . (Interview, Mayor Shinn, November 22, 2005).

In an e-joumal entry regarding Mayor Shinn’s progress in the band, Marian
provides insight to not only her interactions wifir him in the classroom, but also to his
attentiveness toward obligation, his determined spirit, his sense of humor, and her own
intuitive acumen in crafting instruction and curricula according to the needs of her
students.

Mayor Shinn is one the original members of the New Horizons Band

Since he arrived he has been a quiet leader. He is interested in his own

improvement, as well as in the group as a whole. I have noticed a decline

in his health over the course of the time I have brown him — but not in his

positive attitude. He has been active about looking for and creating

devices that will assist him in holding the trombone... When the bandfirst

140

began, he always signed his messages to me Mayor Shinn — First Chair
Trombone. He was the ONLY trombone at the time. I specifically picked
Lassus Trombone for this year because of Mayor Shinn. I’m not sure if he
will be playing for months or years, but [ wanted him to experience
success as well as face challenges while he is still healthy enough to do so.
He is truly interested in learning and will ask questions if he wants more
information or clarification. He is an example of what makes directing this
group so fantastic (E—Journal Entry, Marian Paroo, December 9, 2005).

It is important to emphasize firat adult bands, especially those with a mosfiy senior

adult population, do experience, from time to time, a decline in membership due to

strokes, broken bones, heart attacks, heart surgeries, cancer, and loss of life. Vigilant in

caring for firis population, Marian is sensitive to her students’ needs and encourages them

when members who are ill or recuperating are reintroducing themselves back into the

band.

I know pe0ple get fi‘ustrated and I try to be sensitive to that. You brow, I
try to send an email and say, “I brow you were fiustrated in band today.

[ ’11 do my best to address the situation. ” For example, there are a couple
of people who have similar physical issues with two very dijferent outlooks.
You brow, you ’ve got Mayor Shinn who km the Parkinson ’s
Organization [the National Legislation for Parkinson ’s Research] and
he’s really trying, and then there ’s Isaac who just feels like a failure, and

it ’s all I can do to make him feel like he ’s contributing in some way... The

141

sounds that come out of their horns never bother me. Ngye; (Interview,

Marian Paroo, March 20, 2007).

Tommy has implemented coping mechanisms and techniques in order to
combat his failing eyesight. Enlarging music on the photocopier and playing a
“shorter” instrument have added significantly to the quality of his musical
experiences, although he is met, at times, wifir those who may not be empathetic
toward his plight or who may not even be aware of his condition.

I had trouble reading the music ‘cause I couldn ’t get close enough. My

eyes aren ’t so good I couldn ’t get close enough to the charts, so I picked

up the comet so I could get closer to the charts — a shorter distance fiom
the music. Even with enlarged music, I have to play a lot of times into the

music stand . . One of the [Interlochen] band directors got on me ‘cause I

was playing into the stand [t was either that or not play (Interview,

Tommy Djilas, December 14, 2006).

For Ethel, music is a refreshing, temporary escape from reality. She shares
how her band participation has an elevating, positive, uplifting affect on her
emotional well-being and enhances daily living.

It’s a form of escape. You escape fiom your everyday drudgery when

you ’re working. The everyday drudgery of retirement! You just step into a

dijfkrent world and for those two-and-a-half hours of rehearsal, it ’s just

wonderful. It ’s just something totally drfierent. It just wipes out a_ll the
other cares and problems and thoughts that you have on everyday life.

Love it (Interview, Ethel Toffelmier, June 2, 2006).

142

Power Sharing

In any community, there are both spoken and unspoken hierarchies of power that
can be imposed gracefully, forcefully, democratically, or autocratically.
Inevitably, how the power is shared among the membership and with the conductor can
be played out in several different ways. Compared with fire dynamics often found in
school bands, the concept of power sharing as it relates to musical decision-making can
often take on new meaning with adult groups, as the adult members’ willingness to
express their opinions, question insightfully, and prompt discussions are compelling
implications for reevaluating how conductors work with adult ensembles. As previously
mentioned in firis document, there are undeniable pedagogical concerns in teaching
someone of any age to play a music instrument, yet the degree to which rehearsals
vacillate between teacher-centeredness or student-centeredness may still be highly
debatable. Several of fire participants in firis study spoke to bofir of firese approaches.

Eulalie deftly observes fire power sharing firat occurs among conductors and
ensemble members, and, subsequently, between section members themselves. She
addresses both the analytical nature of some of her peers as well as her own need for
ordered, straightforward scrutiny from the conductor.

On occasion, we have substitute conductors come when [ours] can 't make

it. And some people are so m of that person, and I think “He’s got in

right on the head C ’mon you guys! He’s not saying it because he ’s trying

to [be ] mean or cruel. At least he ’s yyipg it! ” I think [our conductor] is a

very m person, and maybe some of the people like the niceness. To me,

that ’sflufif I don ’t want to be mean to anyone, but like I tell my students

143

all the time, “Whether you like me or not, that’s not what I ’m here for. I’m
here to teach you something. And if you can go away Mg it, you brow,
if you happen to 1gp me, that’s a bonus! But that’s not really my

purpose. ” And so I ’m not looking for that, myself I can get along without

it, but I don ’t think a lot of other people can (Interview, Eulalie

Mackecknie Shinn, June 2, 2006).

In terms of power as it relates to teaching, Eulalie reveals further her need for, and
appreciation of, firm instruction. As her story unfolds, she differentiates her needs with
those of a high school student, but then, interestingly, softens her posture wifir the
realization that she, too, enjoys receiving well—deserved praise for her work.

I want to be pushed and I want to be challenged and I do n_ot like the idea

of someone thinking, “She ’s not capable of doing it, ” because I m I’m

capable of doing it and so I want to rise to the occasion. I don ’t need

someone to be nice; that ’s not important to me. My propose is to learn
something and excel at what I’m doing, and sometimes it ’sfiustrating

when that doesn ’t happen. So, no, I don’t need pampering. I think maybe

in high school you might need a little encouragement. . . but I guess I 49

like it when the conductor says, “Well done, Eulalie. ” You brow, I

appreciate that, too, so maybe I’m n_ot any di/ferent (Transcript, Eulalie

Mackecknie Shinn, June 2, 2006).

In addressing one of fire relationships between students and conductor, Efirel
volunteers how power sharing may not be wholly conducive to band rehearsals,

especially when one considers the issue of time limitations.

144

I think a conductor would have to treat an adult band very similar to what

he would a student band To me, I will respect that individual in fiont of

me because he has more musical training than I. With a one-night-a-week

group, you don ’t really have time for discussion. “Do you like it this way,

or that way? ” The decision is the conductor ’s, and you have to be kind of

a dictator in that respect. I think that you still need that person up in the

front saying, “This is the way it ’s going to pg. You will do it pry way.

Ihqpk you ” (Interview, Ethel Toffelmier, June 2, 2006).

Viewing podium presence firrough a conductor’s lens, Harry discusses the
evolution of fire role of the conductor from the Revelli era through the present,
highlighting fire manner in which school music teachers of today (and community band
directors) must handle themselves professionally. As before, Harry recounts his staunch
upbringing and how he, himself, was socialized musically as a band member. As he
speaks, it becomes evident how conductor modeling can impact and shape future
behaviors and expectations of student musicians into adulthood.

We ’re well now into an era of behavioral requirements that were simply

unknown to me. I had no problem growing up and being able to handle

tough guys [conductors], and browing that I’m gonna get told how I

sounded that day, and knowing that that ’s part of what I was going to

have to handle if I was going in the music business. You can ’t pull that ofl

today. To be a committee [of one], I mean, you ’ll be in trouble. So the

Revelli School is over. I think John Paynter mybe was one of the last of

that generation of conductors who had the power and the station, the

145

credibility to be able to talk like that and get a way with it, because you

couldn ’t d_o_ that today. But when I think back I had my share of those

guys, and 1 think it made me better. That’s my position on that, but then

you see, I’m looking at it from a professional development point, not a

community band person who ’d like to spend Tuesday night away from

banking or whatever the heck it was they did all day and wanted to come

out and then have a Remllj?! And 1 have to be very careful that I don’t

turn into that, because I mp (Interview, Harry Pinchin, May 31, 2006).

Similarly, Marian addresses the issue of power from bygone days and hints at the
importance of reevaluating the role of the school band director and the community band
director.

[ think some directors are back to the days of the tyrant in a way. Not all,

but there are some. You brow, they think that the m is here at the

podium. The knowledge is here at the podium. This what you gig, and those

same belittling behaviors that they might have exhibited as public school

teachers are sometimes still there, I think in community band directors

(Interview, Marian Paroo, March 20, 2007).

This is Your Life: Part-time Musician, Full-time Affiliate
In firis chapter I have described the matter of identity observed among adult
learners in two North American settings. It is important not only to understand how adult
musicians view themselves, but also how firey view those around them and how they

view their role wifirin the collective. To a great extent, the way in which an individual’s

146

identity is fashioned can be linked to fire “personality” of the larger group. Subsequent
assimilation into that group usually requires a social grafting of actions, behaviors,
etiquette, and knowledge, which ultimately affords that person an additional dimension to
their existence. This speaks to Creswell’s (2003) concept of an “amorphous culture,”
whereby individuals who share common living or behavioral patterns and who share
common specialized language patterns, like firose in a community band, do, in fact,
belong to their own “culture.” Also applicable to firis theme are Blacking’s (1995) ideas
that “the development or inhibition” of a musical identity “is largely, if not completely,
conditioned by people’s experience of human relationship” (p. 32) and that music reflects
“all aspects of the self” (p. 33). Similarly, Brookfield (1986) hypothesized that “at some
point. . .adults will realize that their ‘private’ troubles are reflections of some broader
structural contradiction and will come together in collective action to create more
congenial structures” (p. 7). Whether or not Brookfield’s theory is consistently accurate
in multiple contexts, it does, however, give credence to the group cohesiveness found in
many community band settings.

Above all, the roles firat health and self-perception play in fire development of an
adult musician are indisputable. Consistent with Pitts’ (2005) findings, most adults
experience a degree of conflict regarding whefirer they consider firemselves “a musician.”
They are, nonefireless, inclined to search for ways in which to improve their musicianship
and tend to remain humble in this endeavor. These actions support Brookfield’s (1986)
notion that, if adults view themselves as learners, then learning will likely occur.
Additionally, those wifir healfir-related issues tend to develop coping strategies that

increase music participation by reducing the magnitude of such obstacles. Alternate

147

instrument carriages, enlarged music, hearing aids, or selecting a different instrument are
ways in which participants are able to maintain levels of meaningful participation wifirin
the group.

Adult students also respond differently to varying degrees of power held within
the classroom. While some adults in firis study were comfortable with student-centered
approaches, such as chamber music experiences, a majority of participants preferred
teacher-centered, authoritarian approaches. In other words, adults displayed a preference
for autocratic rehearsals and were not concerned with maintaining a democratic
classroom, as informants wanted to be instructed in what to do. It is also important to
acknowledge that fire adult band model firat currently exists in North America has
remained unchanged in many aspects and may, in fact, replicate fire middle school or
high school band setting. This reproduction, then, may inevitably foster a reliance on
conductor, not student, feedback.

Because adults display a variety of learning styles, it is important for teachers to
be cognizant of individualizing instruction, even wifirin large ensemble settings.
Assessing students’ developmental levels and determining what tools they need in order
to expand fireir musicianship are practical goals firat are, because of the wide span of ages
found in adult ensembles, essential for personalizing instruction and fostering meaningful
musical experiences for students

While Chapter 6 focused on the subject of identity wifirin community settings,
Chapter 7 will address fire specific aspects of teaching and learning associated wifir adults,
how they view fireir own learning, and what they value in the learning process.

Comparing facets of school music programs with adult bands, as well as discussing self-

148

directed behaviors typically attributed to adult learners, will assist in engendering

connections to pedagogy and andragogy.

149

CHAPTER VII

“OH GOD, I’M NOT l8 ANYMORE”: MAKING CONNECTIONS TO POINTS ON
THE CONTINUUM LINKING PEDAGOGY AND ANDRAGOGY

Harold
Tommy, I ’d like to talk with you about the band

Tommy

Aw gee, Professor, that ’s for the little kids.
(Willson, 1958, Act One, Scene 4, p. 61).

Topics Related to Adult Learning

Virtually every participant in firis study compared his or own personal learning
experiences as an adult wifir those that might be experienced by secondary students in
middle schools and high schools. Their pragmatic insights and unique perspectives are
useful for crafting discussion around the notion of how (and if) adults learn differently
than children and to what extent music educators are able to provide meaningful
experiences for their students through implementing into their classrooms the precepts of
both pedagogy and andragogy in relation to music teaching.

Marian takes a proactive approach in assessing the needs of her students, rejecting
the opinion that, because firey are adults, fireir life experience sustains their learning and
compensates for certain limitations or deficiencies. Passionately, she emphasizes fire
enjoyment factor for senior adults and urges educators to balance instruction to meet the

requirements for all students involved in the ensemble, from those at the top of the

150

section to those near the bottom. Above all, Marian zealously guards fire significance of

being positive with adults.
I think it ’s important to assess the students’ needs. What do they need fiom
you? I think with adults, their needs are so individual. They’re so
immSo there’s the “OK, what do they M? Where do they need to
gp? Where are they Mgfi'om? How can I take them fiom Point A to
Point B?” _quLly being aware. You may have a preset idea... but you have
to realize these people are doing this ppm1y for pleasure. firmly for
enjoyment. Now I don ’t think you have to make it fun and games, because
there ’s a certain amount of seriousness in adults that you need to respect.
I know that the New Horizons group, in particular, likes those structured
rehearsals. You need to balance between your needs and your group’s
needs. Everybody wants a good product, but it ’s not all Machiavellian;
it’s not the end justifying the means. Finding the balance to get the
product you want in a pm_siti_ve way, I think is hard for some people... .I
think striking a balance is so hard and I think people fi'om the outside
don’t realize how hard of a balance it is... with adult learners. It ’s not easy.
It ’s rewarding, but I would not say conducting a community band is easy.
I think it can be very scary... There ’s til—ww that 80-year old clarinet
player in the back of the 3'“ clarinet section — and every community band
has one and they always will. That person should m there, but you have to
balance the megs of that person with the needs of the first chair player

who can play anything and who takes things very seriously and who

151

always irons their uniform (laughs) (Interview, Marian Paroo, March 20,

2007)

Reflecting on past teaching and previous classroom experiences supplies insight
to new direction and vitality, according to Harry, whose reassessment of adult education
is on-going.

Each year...got a little easier. We were able to make refinements. I was

able to learn, despite what I thought might be what we should do, I was

 

able to refine the program and say, “Well, it seemed (laughs) like a good

idea at the time, but I think now I’ll maybe substitute and do M. So I was

making changes as I educated mymf about how we did this, and hopefully

for the better (Interview, Harry Pinchin, May 31, 2006).

Next, Winthrop, Mrs. Paroo, and Tommy provide compelling and interesting
distinctions between the tenets of pedagogy and andragogy and offer advice to practicing
adult educators as to how firey may or may not have to interact with an adult band as they
would a school band.

Yes, you’re dealing with adults, but sometimes you have to deal with them

as children. . . I think as adults, we want to get there faster than what we

are capable of getting, but we still want the challenge. Most of us want to

improve and give back, and give back musically to society and to the

community. . . I think kids at school react to a teacher automatically pretty

well —— (laughs) most of the time. But we as adults, m we ’re

professionals in our own right, doing whatever it is we do away fiom here,

we sometimes, well, “We’re a little above that. ” We have to get back to

152

the basics. And we have gone past the basics for professionals w ago,
so now we have to learn a whole M series of basic techniques. . . I think
that’s mm of the things that was a bit of an irritation going right back to
the beginning — being treated as a student again. That sort of ran with me
a little bit, you know, “Oh, God I ’m not I 8 anymore. I was 40 when I
started doing this, you brow? ” And that ’s something that ’s gotta be
difiicult for a conductor or an instructor — all of a sudden taking on a_dyfl
where you ’ve been mp4 to dealing with younger people (Interview,
Winthrop Paroo, May 30, 2006).

I think you find that adults have to be treated like children, unfortunately.
Remarkably, whenever the conductor has a little bit of a fit because things
are not going so well, they seem to improve the next week It ’s absolutely
remarkable. You ’d think being an adult, you ’d be responsible enough to
learn your part or do whatever, but it ’s not necessarily so. Very fi'equently,
you have to be treated like kids, you brow? When a little temper tantrum is
shown, things dp buck up the next week! (laughs) (Interview, Mrs. Paroo,
June 2, 2006).

Adults, I believe, have more diflerentiation among [them] because they
have all these years [of experience]. Especially adults who are 50 or more,
they have these years of experiences and their health is dijferent, and I
assume the younger students can be molded easier. I don ’t believe you can
mold the adults more than except a _ly'tplg bit here, a little adjustment here,

little bit of an adjustment there. And the younger students take more

153

guidance but have less self-discipline than the adults have, even if the
adults don’t act like it (Interview, Tommy Djilas, December 14, 2006).
Harry has taken note of a phenomenon among his players regarding chair
placements and theorizes about the seemingly “genetic” origins of this behavior.
Touching on “the survival of the fittest,” he discusses his members’ perceptions of
hierarchy within the bands, and, like Marian, in her previous statement earlier in this
chapter, uses the time-honored illustration of the 3rd clarinet player relegated to sit in the
back of the section.
One thing I ’ve learned is that they — I don’t know flag this comes fiom
because they weren ’t in music before — they ’re @1112 into the hierarchy of
seating. “Who ’s playing I" and 2"“? ” And if you let them grab their own
music, they do...I sort of brow where it comes fiom with the kids, but I’m
wondering where this comes fiom with male people. And I ’ve done a little
study and have discovered that where they are successfirl in their primary
vocation, it ’s quite often the case that they want to play I“ here, too,

whether they should be or not. So I do a lot of part rotation just to make

 

sure we don ’t have the survival of the fittest, ‘cause there ’s some poor
little lady sitting there on 3'“ clarinet and she ’s gonna be therefor the rest
of her life because she won ’t say mp, you brow. So we kind of watch for
that kind of thing to emerge (Interview, Harry Pinchin, May 31, 2006).
Alma rationally and thoughtfully unfolds the feelings of vulnerability and

sensitivity among adults, especially when it centers on student-teacher interactions and

154

performing. Later, she recounts, through observations she has made within her own

ensemble, how her peers react to criticism or correction.
[We need] encouragement without patronizing. An adult will realize when
someone ’s not being genuine. We need to know that we gm improving
because we tend to be very hard on ourselves. . . I think mom of it is
fiustration for younmdf . . As an adult, it’s nice because what you don’t
know you ’1! ask and you don ’t care. But then there are some people [who
are] embarrassed that they don’t brow. I think it’s really important on an
educator’s side that you keep the music to a level that raises the bar but
doesn ’t make someone so fiustrated that they can ’t achieve it and that
they’re not embarrassed If you put somebody out there and they perform
and it ’5 just hQr_ri_bLe, it ’s really hard on them. Adults mifl bounce back
but as much as possible, you don ’t want them to be embarrassed by what
they do. I think that’s devastating at any age... With adults, I didn ’t realize,
there’s a lot of sensitivities there that I ’m finding. Some of the things that
[our conductor] would be concerned about, I thought, “ We ’re adults. It’s
fine. Don ’t r_vo_rry about that. ” But as I sort of sit back and watch people, I
think “Q-o_—h. ” People fl sensitive about that... You just have to be
careful what you say to people, because it can break somebody if their
self-confidence isn ’t. . . high (Interview, Alma Hix, June 2, 2006).
Concurring with Alma, Eulalie compares adult sensitivity to that of a teenager.
If you think teenagers get their feelings hurt, well my God on adult is ten

times more sensitive (Interview, Eulalie Mackecknie Shinn, June 2, 2006).

155

Amaryllis discriminates between her current work efiric as an adult and
her work efiric as a girl, and discusses fire desire for learning firat she is now able
to acknowledge.

AM: I think adult learners are an interesting group, because we M to

learn. I took piano lessons [as a child] because I felt like I w to. I can’t

specifically recall my parents saying, “You by; to do firis,” but I was
signed up for it and I went. And it was not always a good experience. But

I’m doing firis [New Horizons Band] because I yv_an_t to and because it’s

_fu_n. And I would have to say that it was probably easier for me to practice

now. I’m more motivated to practice now firan l was to practice piano

when I was taking lessons.

NK: What do you attribute that to?

AM: Oh, maturity. And N to do a good job, to learn a new skill,

learn how to do it _vmfl, so I feel that it’s time well spent (Interview

Transcript, Amaryllis, February 1, 2007).

Ethel and Zaneeta describe issues of knowledge acquisition, dexterity, fire ability
for adults to play more feelingly than younger musicians, and the frequently
unpredictable learning rates among learners.

I think you will find that adults will catch on, move on, a lot faster in many

respects, particularly on the browledge level. Now where they might have

difficulty is in the dexterity ofthe fingers. . . 1 think when it comes to

interpreting the music, like when we did Music Man, if you were to get a

high school band or a junior high band playing that music, it wouldn ’t

156

come out quite the same as it would with an adult band because we know

those pieces. They bring back memories of when The Music Man first

came out, whereas a student today (sighs), this is old music to them

(laughs). I don ’t know whether they’d even bother bringing out Music

Man, but yes, it would be more academic. I think it would sound more like

a study rather than music from the heart (Interview, Ethel Toffelmier,

June 2, 2006).

I remember talking with my daughter on the phone — she’s a very wise

soul for her young age — and she says, “What happens when people

progress at different rates? ” And I thought, “Ii/Log! I never thought of
that. ”And, of course, that ’s what ’s happening in the band. Like when
someone said, “Would you give me a cue for this? ” And there was a bar
and a half rest. And I’m thinking, “gouty. Just coup; for cryin ’ out

loud. ”. . . Some people have taken s_uc_h responsibility, and other people

haven’t (Interview, Zaneeta Shinn, June 2, 2006).

Marian finds herself continually amazed at the questions her adult students
raise in rehearsals and at the insatiable curiosity they tender. Moreover, her
comments speak to the resourcefulness of adults to take responsibility for their
own learning.

Because they ’re adults and have experience in so many facets of life, I find

there ’s a lot more engaged conversation and a lot more interacting

between teacher and student that ’s more conversational, and not

necessarily the weather. I mean it’s, “What does this mean? Tell me what

157

this means. ” That comes up so often in rehearsal that I probably don’t
even realize it. I ’m answering questions that a 6m grader might not even
think to ask, a think, “I don ’t’ care, ” g not be embarrassed to ask what
they don ’t understand in fi'ont of their peers. So that’s what ’3 interesting.
There ’s a lot more discourse, and they bring so much experience, and,
“0h, th_is is what it means. ” And they come up with better answers that
"what I have! It’s amazing. I learn every week, and I love that. I totally

found the right gig for me (Interview, Marian Paroo, March 20, 2007).

Self-Directed Behaviors

Andragogy, as defined earlier for the purposes of this study, can encompass self-
directed learning behaviors that may indicate that independent musicianship has evolved
and has manifested in self-goveming actions in respect to specific musical settings.
Although self-directed behaviors may include such actions as seeking additional
instruction, tailoring and adapting one’s individual practice habits toward improved
learning, searching out musical resources, and remaining self-selective in participatory
activities, these indicators may, in fact, provide a window into what adults are learning in
ensemble settings, how they are assimilating and transferring musical information into
practice and performance, and how this may inform teaching at the individual and group
levels.

Alma discusses alternative forms of self-directed learning associated with
andragogy and showcases the autonomy that adults have in gathering and amassing their

own resources for learning.

158

I have the resource of asking other musicians. If I have apart I ’m having

a lot of trouble with, I ’1] ask them. So as an adult, we ’1] resource the

people who have musical experience. And if Lat isn ’t working for me, then

I’ll try and find something else that will. And as adults, we’ll do that more.

We’re not going to rely on the instructor or the director to figure out how

I can learn; I ’11 do that myself . . As adults, we ’re more inclined to W

for a way that works for us rather than have somebody provide it for us. . .

If I were an instructor working with adults, I think the beauty of it would

be that people would go home and go on the Internet and find out ways to

get around things (Interview, Alma Hix, June 2, 2006).

On their own accord, and displaying principles of self-governance, a group
of New Horizons Band members set off on an instrument-buying excursion to the
Woodwind and Brasswind in South Bend, Indiana, in November 2006. Similarly,
and without any external financial support, nearly 25 members of the
Cosmopolitan Music Society traveled to the Chicago Mid-West Band and
Orchestra Clinic in December 2006 in order to attend clinic sessions, listen to live
performances, and connect with figureheads in the band community who, until
that time, may have been images far removed from their own experience. Through
their actions, adults in both the New Horizons Band and the Cosmopolitan Music
Society welcomed experiences that assisted them in building awareness, creating
knowledge, connecting prior experiences to new experiences, and becoming

socialized musically in new ways. Ethel retells her passage from being a doubting

159

Thomas to a staunch believer in the interconnections made within the larger band
community.

I never knew about Chicago and that conference. And to go down there,

by golly, was a real eye-opener. And there were many times when Harry

would say, “Oh, when I was in Chicago I met up with Fred F ennell, or
$1.: person, or th_at person. ” And some of the music that we ’ve performed
some of the composers. And I thought, “Oh, is this kind of name
dropping?” And I thought, “Mm-mm. We ’11 s_eg. Well fig! Just you wait,

‘Enry ‘Iggins. Just you 1v_ai_t! ” (Laughs) And so I went to Chicago, and I

was now going to view all of this and see what happened And I was

stun—_nal when it was m people who were saying, “0h Harry! Harry!

Over here! ” And they would all just, you know, with hugs and handshakes

and so on like they truly all! know each other. It was ngt name—dropping.

And Harry is not that type of person, but you get to the point where if it

happens so many times over the years you think, “Well, maybe it i_s [name

dropping] ” Nn-nn Not with that man —-— he’s true blue on that one

(Interview, Ethel Toffelmier, June 2, 2006).

Like Zaneeta, several participants spoke to the positive impact of chamber
music, a setting in which members are flee to share musical ideas and where the
stakeholders navigate the development and performance of the musical product.
Members of chamber ensembles are also challenged by music that requires them
to think more critically, to perform with a heightened sense of ownership and

purpose, and, typically, to play literature with a greater degree of difficulty, which,

160

according to Zaneeta, has been a welcomed change from the full-band repertoire
that usually presents a minimal challenge.

As I got better, I realized that [my instrument] doesn ’t always have the

most difficult music in the band, and as I got better, there was absolutely

no challenge. And I thought, “Holy Mahl_oley! What have 14mg? ” And so

I started thinking, “Well, what am I going to do about this? Did I choose

the wrong instrument, or what ’s the matter?...So we [organized] a [small

chamber ensemble]. . . So t_h_a_t kept me going. . . because it was mu_ch
more diflicult, and we specifically chose ones [pieces] ahead of time. . . so

I just wasn ’t going, “Blehhhhh, blehhhhh, blehhhhh” (Interview, Zaneeta

Shinn, June 2, 2006).

Exhibiting the sort of self-selection process that ofien comes with
experience, Tommy extols the nurturing atmosphere in his band, yet is
comfortable, for several reasons, in choosing to distance himself from the group
when necessary.

One thing I like about this band is that there ’s very little pressure. I get up

sometimes during the first hour and noboay says anything negative to me.

I ’ve been kidded a couple of times about it, but I don ’t mind that.

Sometimes I need to go to the bathroom. Sometimes I wanna go get a cup

of coffiee before everyboay else gets it, and sometimes it ’sfi'ustration.

Sometimes my brain and eyes are tired and I don ’t like playing the most

diflicult stufl near the end of the two hours, cause by then, my eyes and

mind are tired (Interview, Tommy Djilas, December 14, 2006).

161

Several of the adults who participated in this study referred to their personal need
for structure and organization in private lessons and in ensemble rehearsals. Tommy’s
private instructor had provided him with an entire folder of technical exercises and
systematically devised a teaching and learning strategy that incorporated an emphasis on
the elements of music through technique-building etudes and rhythmic exercises rather
than on Tommy’s band music. Because he desires structure in his own life, Tommy wants
to avoid instructors who display “haphazard teaching” styles (Interview, Tommy Djilas,
December 14, 2006). Similarly, Amaryllis appreciates how her instructor has avoided
working on any piece of band music in lessons and has instead focused on skill-building
percussion techniques. This has been helpful for Amaryllis because it has altered the way
she practices at home and creates additional points of reference through which to
examine the pieces she plays in full-band settings.

NK: You said something interesting a moment ago. You said that through

your private lessons, you’ve altered your practice routine. What do you do

differently now?

AM: I do just basic exercises first. The instruments I have at home are just

a drum pad and an old set of bells that are not the same as the bells we

have here, and so the keyboard is a little different. It doesn’t have quite the

range, so what I do with the bells is I play scales and some arpeggios, and

then I get into a couple of pieces be [my teacher] has picked out for me to

work on, and I work on particular techniques he has suggested would be

helpful. And when I do the drum pad, it’s working to strengthen my left

hand in particular and get more specific in the strokes than I’m doing. And

162

then after that, then I’ll run through the music we play in band just to stay

familiar with that and to get some of the runs down a little easier.

NK: And how has this new way of practicing affected musical transfer?

AM: It is easier. I don’t always do it as well as maybe I thought I did, but

at least I know I’m making a mistake and I can correct it just in the way

I’m holding my hand or how hard I’m hitting something, and so I think if I

can get that down, then with more time, hopefully I’ll be able to be a little

bit more accurate (Interview Transcript, Amaryllis, February 1, 2007).
Because of this instruction, the band music, for Amaryllis, has become an outgrowth of
the technique, not the basis for it. The teaching strategies traditionally associated with
individual lesson instruction may, indeed, find a more prominent place within school
music settings, as the desire to improve is evident among an overwhelming majority of
the participants, including Zaneeta.

[My teacher] was really gettin ’ particular: “Go home at figure out where

you ’re going to breathe ” and, “You ’re not paying attention to the

 

tonguing. ” He said, “You see this run? You ’re playing it as a whole run,
but l_o_Ql_c! There ’s a m in there. You didn ’t tongue. ” Apparently when it
gets down to the crunch, there are some details that I miss like that. I

don ’t Qto_w_ I’m missing them until he points them out. It’s always
interesting ‘cause I think, “fly didn ’t I see that?” I mean, it ’s the sufilg
things...He is more conscious of how I’m going to get better (Interview,

Zaneeta Shinn, June 2, 2006).

163

Time Limitations and Practicing

An overwhelming majority of the adults in this study resonated with the pervasive
issue of time management in their daily lives and in the intrusive doling out of space for
family, career, hobbies, activities, church, and band commitments. While being a band
participant has become a positive identity marker for many of the informants, the issue of
improving musicianship through regular, regimented practice sessions often appears to be
a regrettable, incompatible match with their adult lifestyles.

NK: Are you getting out of it [band] what you imagined?

MW: 1 am actually thinking I’m not pulling the weight, because the first

two years I worked really hard because it was new. It was exciting. Even

now it is exciting, but it’s a matter of time. Yes, everybody gets 24 hours a

day, but it depends how you use it. I guess I don’t have the discipline to

put that one hour, or at least 45 minutes each day, into music [practice]

(Interview Transcript, Marcellus Washburn, May 29, 2006).

Eulalie and Ethel discuss time limitations in their lives, noting the multi-faceted
obligations that can divert attention fi'om practicing and the devotion to career and
childcare that often compete with music participation.

1 think adults have time limitations. . . If you notice, a lot of the people in

our band are probably between the ages of 45 to 60, and therefore their

families aren ’t young and so they might have more time. But it ’s also the
time in your career where you ’re doing so many other things. You know, I
[work] full-time, I ’m working with someone developing a new business. . .

and so how do you find the M for all these things? It’s a problem, and

164

as far as the practice, often that’s a problem, but I tell people, “If you

really want to do it, you ’11 find the time ” (Eulalie Mackecknie Shinn, June

2,2006)

We’re a bunch of twits sitting in front of him [the conductor] (laughs). It’s

hard to get us to practice. It doesn’t matter what age you are, practicing

daily seems to be very, very dlflicult to come by. . . When [my son] was
younger, I thought, “Gee whiz, I ’ve got so much on my plate, trying to
keep up with work, home, and with my son. ” And I thought, “Do I _rga_ll_y

want to start up [band] in September again? ” And I thought, “If I don ’t,

when it comes to retirement, I ’ll miss out. ” And so those doubtful thoughts

I would have occasionally were totally wiped out. Even at the time, as

soon as I would get back into it, I thought, “No. There ’s no way I would

quit this. It ’s wonderful ” (Interview, Ethel Toffelmier, June 2, 2006).

In a final example that illustrates time management and practicing, self-reflective
Winthrop admits his battle with apathy and his aggravation and struggle in creating a
consistent practice schedule.

I still have the urge to play better. I know I can play better, and I know the

fault lies with me, not with the instrument. . . I struggle with putting more

time into the horn. . . I’m still reorganizing my lifestyle. I get lazy, and I

admit that, especially since I retired, and well, “I don ’t have to do that

today; I can do that tomorrow. ” And tomorrow doesn ’t always come. You
know, it ’s like the old saying: “You don’t see the writin ’ on the wall until

your back ’s against it ” (Interview, Winthrop Paroo, June 1, 2006).

165

Tempus Fugus: Asking for Directions along the Continuum

This chapter has reviewed the role of music in the lives of adults as it relates to
self-directed learning initiatives and time management. Many adults revealed that adult
bands and school bands have more similarities between them than dissimilarities. Much
of this perspective originates from a product—centered, goal-oriented environment reliant
on performances, musical preparation, and self-improvement. Additionally, an
overwhelming majority of the adults in this study resonated with the pervasive issue of
time management strains in their daily lives. While being a band participant has become a
positive identity marker for many of the informants, the issue of improving musicianship
through regular practice sessions appears to be an incompatible match with their adult
lifestyles.

Several of the adults also spoke to the personal need for structure and
organization in ensemble rehearsals and private lessons. Incorporating technical exercises,
adopting systematic teaching patterns, and developing musical dexterity through etudes
and exercises are noted as being beneficial to the learning process. The addition of these
supplemental materials tends to bring more meaning to the band literature and become a
source of improvement. Additionally, some adult learners sought chamber music
opportunities as a way to alleviate boredom and repetition and to also bolster personal
musicianship. Through seeking new challenges, the adult who participates in these

activities is exercising self-directedness as a learner.

166

CHAPTER VIII

SUMMARY, CONCLUSIONS, AND IMPLICATIONS FOR FUTURE RESEARCH

Harold
Think men, think!
(He gives the upbeat and leads the band in Minuet in G as
it has never been played before — just barely recognizable.
The River [City] Citizens think it’s the greatest thing they ever heard.)

Alma
That’s my Barney! That tuba ’s my Barney!

Man #1
Eddie! That ’s Eddie’s clarionette!

Maud

Linus, play to me son, play to me!
(Willson, 1958, Act Two, Scene 7, pp. 156-157).

Summary

Purpose and Problems

The purpose of this research was to investigate adult motivations for participation
in instrumental music and to gain an understanding of the teaching and learning
tendencies associated with adult learning. The problems of this study were (1) to tell the
stories of Canadian and American adult musicians who have been motivated to perform
in an instrumental ensemble, (2) to suggest that what we know and what we learn about
adult learning may be used in fostering pre-adult learning functions among school music
students in order to reevaluate how children are socialized musically, and (3) to provide

the impetus for lifelong learning by discussing teaching approaches for bridging the gap

167

between schools and communities. Additional data emerged regarding the relational and
environmental factors that assisted in adult music learning and were subsequently

explored as meaningful and relevant topics within this discourse of inquiry.

Method

Traditional methods associated with ethnographic research techniques were used
in this study, including observations, participant observations, interviews (see Appendix
A and Appendix B), artifact collection, and immersion. This mode of inquiry proved to
be the most salient means of gathering and analyzing information related to adult music
learning as experienced by members of the Cosmopolitan Music Society in Edmonton,
Alberta, Canada, and the New Horizons Band in East Lansing, Michigan. I felt
comfortable in both environments and was heartily welcomed when interacting with adult
students, teachers, and administrators. While initial impressions were created as I was
observing rehearsals, performances, and other exchanges between individuals, it was the
subsequent transcription of the field notes and listening to the participants’ recorded
voices that solidified the notions of motivation, identity, and devotion to the collective
that I had originally observed. New, additional layers of interaction and meaning also
surfaced during this process, allowing me to see events from varying perspectives. As I
completed the interview summary forms (see Appendix C and Appendix D), interview
transcripts and observations yielded preliminary codes that, as the research findings
unfolded, continued to emerge as important themes in the data (see Appendix E and
Appendix F). Several of the predominant codes included inspiration for pursuing music,

the challenges and rewards of music participation, creating an identity, self-selected

168

learning strategies, personal wellness, and issues of time management. This information
was organized into code and theme configurations in preparation for analysis. Finally,

there is no claim that the findings in this study are generalizable to other settings.

Conclusions

What do the informants’ stories tell us? Similar to the findings of Pitts (2005),
group dynamics were key factors in sustaining music participation for nearly all of the
informants. The degree to which individuals were satisfied with musical experiences
depended on the level of musical difficulty, the teaching styles of instructors, the
ownership and sense of belonging to the larger community, and a strong awareness of
reciprocity within that community. While the multidimensional adult lifestyle tended to
impede on practice time, participants in this study reported that they continue to search
for creative, self-directed ways to overcome this obstacle, as fellow musicians depend on
their readiness to perform.

A noticeable dichotomy was evident in many of the informants. While most
expressed an explicit desire for instruction, some were compelled to take shortcuts in
their learning, perhaps to accommodate for a lack of practice time. Because a majority of
the informants were successful career professionals, the notion of grappling with the
basics of learning a new skill had been outside their experience for decades and was met
with some frustration in the beginning stages of learning a music instrument. The desire
for pedagogical instruction was strong with most of the musicians, yet purely
andragogical implications were intimidating to some. While some adults in this study

were content with student-centered approaches, a majority of participants preferred

169

teacher-centered, autocratic approaches and were not concerned with maintaining a
democratic classroom. This was evident in some musicians who were dependent on
teachers’ guidance but who were also reluctant to implement their diagnostic advice. This
was not the case, however, for those who independently sought chamber music
experiences or participation opportunities in multiple ensembles as ways to alleviate
tediurn and repetitiveness. There also exists the challenge of dispelling the myth that
reading notation and being a “profession ” automatically makes one a musician.

It is through reflecting on these findings that music educators may gain insight
toward understanding the learning processes in adult musicians but to also witness how
music is taught and learned in two locations in North America. More importantly,
however, is the way in which this information can be used to create several compelling
implications for school music programs. How school teachers can apply lessons drawn

from adult learning will be discussed in the following section.

Implications for School Music

1. Recognize that students require structure and organization in rehearsals and/or
lessons in order to promote optimal learning.

I don ’t mind being corrected. In fact, I’d rather be corrected than do it

wrong. You have to be careful how you tell me, too...At some point, the

instructor has to establish with people that, “I have to by specific, or

we ’re not gonna brow ” (Interview, Alma Hix, June 2, 2006).

Organization of lesson planning for ensembles and private instruction is an

undeniable factor for school music programs. Beyond constructing meaningful and

170

creative lesson plans for students lies the obligation and responsibility of instructing
students in supplemental tasks as well, such as practice strategies, rehearsal techniques,
and assessment. Often, it is not made clear to students why instructors choose to rehearse
in certain ways and with a particular style, and what it is they are objectively seeking by
way of implementing evaluative measures. Consequently, these steps in the teaching
process do not consistently transfer to the students during home practice sessions or even
subsequent classroom rehearsals. Supplying students with detailed information on how to
practice and how to implement practice techniques and routines may bestow onto the
student a greater degree of ownership in the learning process itself and may generate
significant momentum toward future achievement. Additionally, creating a structure for
learning should be a recurring event if students are to fully understand the implications of
music acquisition and personal responsibility; discussing with students practice strategies
and study methods should be a continual dialogue if musicianship is to be expanded and

used as a scaffold for future learning.

2. Acknowledge and embrace the social characteristics of being in a music
ensemble.
The enioyment has to be there. The M has to be there. It ’s a tricky line for
you as an educator. You ’re not educating or training potential
professional musicians. You ’re training people who want to play music
very competently at an amateur level, and sometimes that can clash. You
have to treat the disciplines a m diflerently than if you ’re training

someone who ’s going into the business of music at some level. How do you

171

deal with th_al one and Still keep the fun? They [the members] start loosing

interest...and they vote with their feet (Interview, Winthrop Paroo, May 30,

2006)

While the primary objectives for many music instructors and some students may
be musical performances and musical knowledge acquisition, there are other motivators
at play in music classrooms that are, for some students, just as powerful, if not more so,
than music itself. Realistically, a majority of music students may not participate in music
because of Music, but rather for a surplus of other reasons including parental involvement,
a competitive image, trophies, being with friends, and travel opportunities. Social
constructs are not only the bedrock of many school bands, but are a foundational role
within the community, as well, including churches, fraternal organizations, civic clubs,
guilds, and other community activities. The act of acknowledging the social aspects of
being in a music ensemble is in no way meant to detract from the importance of
organized, focused, and productive rehearsals, but rather to illustrate the importance of
creating a healthy, active, and accepting community within the classroom. Additionally,
many community bands are as much musical organizations as they are social
organizations. Gaining an awareness of the ways in which classroom climate may be
balanced and maintained by concentrating on students’ musical, personal, and social
needs may be of great consideration for school music teachers, as how they guide and
nurture students in making emotional connections to music may also lead students in
making similar emotional connections to their peers, families, colleagues, and to the

greater community.

172

3. Deepen students’ musical awareness and musicianship by providing
opportunities for engaging them in critical thinking activities.

As teachers, you have to keep m of the mystery in the music, but also

Md some of the mystery. There’s a practical thing and a discipline

thing that happens here. There’s a subconscious thing that happens. It just

doesn ’t mph out of the sky (Interview, Winthrop Paroo, May 30, 2006).

Students’ cognitive and emotional development is such that they may not be able
to consistently create and transfer knowledge to and flour other areas of their life.
Consequently, eliciting critical thinking in ensembles using higher-order questioning
techniques may be an extremely successful and rewarding prospect for students and
teachers to consider. While adults in this study overwhelmingly took responsibility for
their own learning and expressed a genuine desire to expand their awareness, students in
school music programs, in contrast, may benefit from more frequent questioning and
activities that explore, challenge, and reinforce their current notions of what music is.
Although rehearsal time is a precious commodity in any setting and with any age group,
there may be additional avenues worth exploring in terms of music instruction that may
afford students a larger reservoir of knowledge, especially at the beginning levels, and
that may ultimately create an atmosphere emphasizing active learning among students
rather than passive learning originating fi'om a teacher-centered approach.

Beginning with the assumption that everyone in class is there to learn and not to
be taught, asking thoughtful questions may serve as a basis for generating additional
questions throughout the learning process: How has the composer altered the meloay in

this new section? What is the relationship between the melody and the countermelody?

173

What might the tonal significance suggest? What is important to know about this piece
before conclusions are made regarding appropriate articulations, style, and dynamic
ranges? Creating opportunities for students to demonstrate the degree of musicianship
that has been assimilated remains a viable means for improving and individualizing
instruction. Consequently, interweaving questions with explanations, circumventing
superficial questions that garner only obvious knowledge, and avoiding yes or no
questions are perhaps some of the most effective ways to combat ineffective questioning
techniques in the classroom and to elicit critical thinking in students.

Additional components that may be explored through active, creative engagement
in instrumental classes include learning music aurally, composing, and improvising. At
the onset of music learning, improvisatory exercises can often reflect the tonal and
rhythmic configurations already learned by students and can be presented to them in
ways that are developmentally appropriate. For more experienced students, contact with
improvisatory activities outside of the conventional jazz band setting might be found in
concert band warm-ups that emphasize improvisation within the ensemble by
implementing tonal techniques and providing opportunities for students to develop aural
awareness, allowing for the advancement of an established tonal vocabulary. Composing
and arranging music engages additional skills in students’ musical development, thus
permitting students to be both the creators and performers of music. Opportunities for
exchanging and playing peers’ compositions and allotting time for discussing the
composition process itself are also key factors in expanding musical knowledge and

critical thinking.

174

4. Decrease the reliance on notation for beginners.

I like hearing realfi truly listening to what’s going on, and participating

in a different way instead of as an individual. I ’11 just play my music, you

know, to listen to what I’ve got to start doing. Now I, personally, do that a

lot. That’s the way I learn music is through the ear...so when I go home

and play my part, I hear the rest of the band ...I do things by ear

(Interview, Ethel Toffelmier, June 2, 2006).

As is often the case with beginning instrumental ensembles, reading notation
becomes one of the first and foremost priorities. While notation is indisputably a skill that
requires nurturing and refining in young instrumentalists, it can, at times, become a
hindrance in the early stages of musical development if it becomes a prerequisite or a
“crutch” before students are able to play tunes and songs. Students may, in fact,
experience difficulty in discerning pitches within phrases because they are relying on the
fingers that accompany a given note and may be thinking mechanically, not musically. In
addition, notation may be routinely misread, ignored, or decoded improperly by student
musicians when there is a disconnect between rhythm, movement, and symbolic
representation. Consequently, singing songs, playing times by ear, and learning rote
songs in conjunction with learning written notation may be significant contributors
toward cultivating students’ personal musicianship. Additionally, a reduction in reliance
on notation for beginners might also lead to a broader understanding of melody and
harmony and may be a way to initiate the journey toward independent musicianship.

Music instructors may also discover that altering the order and sequencing

contained in conventional beginning method books might aid in this endeavor. Students’

175

pre-existing levels of musical sophistication are often underestimated by teachers and
parents. The music students encounter on the radio, at home, and on iPods includes
rhythmic and harmonic intricacies that are not found in traditional band method books.
To their chagrin, beginning students are immediately subjected to a series of whole notes
and pitches that do not possess an authentic, bona fide musical context. Consequently, the
“music” students encounter in society conflicts with the “music” they experience in the
band classroom. While whole notes and long tone exercises are certainly valuable in the
development of student musicians, the concept of starting with whole notes in the
beginning stages of instruction remains a problematic teaching strategy. Teaching rote
songs with degrees of rhythmic interest and implementing aural exercises that elicit ear
sensitivity and perceptibility may be ways by which to reduce the rift between formal
music instruction and pop culture influences as well as diminishing a perpetual reliance

on written notation.

5. Encourage and promote chamber ensembles.
[Dorothy] phones everybody and says, “ We ’re gonna have a potluck BBQ
at my house. ” So we a_lI went over there with our instruments... and we sat
in her back yard and had a potluck supper and played So [they] decided
that we should do some more togetherness things, so we’re having a BBQ
at my house...with the instruments. But I keep tellin ’ everybody, “If it ’3
bad weather, don’t bring the instruments, because my house is gr_o_t that big

for thirty people plus stands and chairs and tubas Dorothy said her

176

neighbors kept saying, When ’re you gonna do that again?! ” (Interview,

Zaneeta Shinn, June 2, 2006).

Students who participate in small-group chamber ensembles have a distinct
opportunity to experience a heightened degree of responsibility for themselves and
accountability to their peers. Independent musicianship, power sharing within the
ensemble, decision-making processes, and negotiation toward a finished product can
result from participating in and organizing chamber groups, whose leadership comes
from within. While suggestions and guidance from the music teacher may inexorably
lead students to more informed, reliable decisions, a guiding premise behind chamber
groups is to provide students with a meaningful musical experience that generates insight
to understanding the inner workings of the full ensemble. Sensitivity to nuance, dynamics,
balance, and musical line and style can also result from student participation in chamber
ensembles.

In addition to the aforementioned, another attraction to small-group ensembles is
the difficulty level of the music. Many who play stereotypical “non-melody” instruments
are able, now, to experience music that is more demanding of their skills, of their
understanding, and of the likelihood that the application and implementation of their prior
knowledge will be employed. Because several adults in the present study avidly sought
chamber music opportunities as a way to supplement the private lessons and full-band
settings of which they had taken part, this gives credence to the practice of indoctrinating

students into chamber music opportunities earlier and more frequently.

177

6. Investigate ways to attract and recruit “non-traditional” music students into
school music ensembles and programs.

I’d always wanted to play the trombone and never had an opportunity to

do that. I had some time on my hands because I had just retired and

decided it was a great time to get started (Interview, Mayor Shinn, May

29, 2006).

An overwhelming majority of the students school music teachers encounter are
traditional band, choir, and orchestra students. There are also innumerable students in our
schools who not only have a high musical aptitude, but who, like several of the
participants in the present study, have a desire to express themselves musically but have
been denied access to school music instruction. While school schedules and budgets may
not readily allow for additional classes, reconfigured schedules, or additional faculty,
music instructors may want to investigate how accommodating non-traditional school
music students might impact existing classes, such as general music classes, voice class,
piano labs and/or MIDI composition studios, music theory, music appreciation, beginning
instrumental classes at the secondary level, and in non-traditional ensembles, such as
garage bands, rock bands, fiddle groups, and drumming circles. The inclusion of these
students in music-making activities may not only combat the idea that music exists for
only “the talented,” but may concurrently support a natural transition into the precepts of

community music-making.

178

7. Encourage and advance community music and the notion of lifelong learning
and music-making.

I really wanted to have something that I could do. At some point in

time...retirement and things like that, you brow, you wanna have

something that you can do by yourself Like I said...that was my first

interest; I wanted to pick up an instrument, I wanted to be able to play the

songs that I grew up with, mainly gospel and that kind of stujf... One thing

I always look back on and feel proud about is that in 41 years I picked up

an instrument, and I can play something (Interview, Marcellus Washburn,

May 29, 2006).

As previously emphasized, community music practices are global phenomena that
can assume many forms and include all ages. The organized sound we call music
possesses a prearranged set of associations that model the relationships we experience in
our world (Small, 1998). Because music reflects society and the people in it, it may be
helpful for music educators to teach the adult within the child by making a case for
lifelong learning (Bowles & Myers, 2005). While adults may be more likely than children .
to recognize their need for learning, it may behoove school music instructors to
emphatically and consistently encourage their students to participate in community
ensembles and to inform them that they are, indeed, able to embrace a musical life
beyond 12'Lh grade.

Additionally, inviting community artists into the classroom for sectionals,
masterclasses, or guest lecturers can be a way to fill the void that often exists between the

schools and the community. Community performers in the genres of jazz, mariachi,

179

Celtic, fiddle, and African, Native American, or Arabic drumming would be a welcome
addition to the classroom environment, for these individuals are the cultural tradition
bearers of these practices. The possibility also exists for the creation of an ensemble
reflecting the culture that is present in the community. For example, student and
community populations that are largely of Irish decent may benefit more fi'om a Celtic
ensemble than from a mariachi or jazz band. Furthermore, bringing the students out of the
school and into the community to perform or volunteer their services gives students an
opportunity to experience society as contributing members rather than as an isolated

ensemble confined only to a school environment.

Additional Considerations for Future Research

In bringing together the notion of andragogy and its relation to adult learning in
music, I acknowledge the power of Knowles’ theories regarding adult learning, yet I
concurrently recognize the controversy his assumptions have engendered among
educators, philosophers, and leaders in adult curricula development. As discussed in
Chapter 1, Knowles’ critics believed that his work was but one concept that was
extremely general, while others, conversely, rejected his narrow, prescriptive views of
adult learning. Still others attacked Knowles’ offensive posture initially taken against
pedagogy and pedagogues and abandoned the idea that pedagogues were lost to the tenets
afforded by andragogic principles (Reischmann, 2004; Smith, 1999). Because it does not
explain how or why adults learn, Knowles’ theory has been said to exist as only a set of
assmnptions and not a true theory of adult learning. Additionally, a majority of his critics

believed that andragogy gained popularity at a given time in history and that it spoke

180

more about that moment than it did about the learning process itself (Jarvis, 1995; Smith,
1999). While andragogy may be an unsubstantiated term, Knowles’ concept is a thought-
provoking and creative approach that can engage educators in dialogue regarding
appropriate measures within adult education.

Consequently, the aforementioned viewpoints are extremely useful in
emphasizing a compelling and noteworthy consideration: In the instance of teaching
music, it is possible that the hallmarks of andragogy are merely examples of good
teaching, and that its precepts could potentially provide students with enriched contextual
relevance, improved critical thinking, enhanced musicianship, and heightened self-
directedness. Recognizing the limitations of relying on only one theory of learning may
assist in moving music educators and their students toward behaviors in self-directedness
and in assuming individual responsibility for learning. It would be erroneous, however,
for educators to uncritically and irresponsibly transfer the precepts of andragogy to every
musical setting and to regard its philosophical underpinnings as educational panaceas.
Andragogy is undoubtedly a category within education that deserves firrther attention,
and the information contained in these pages may serve as a catalyst to further inquiry
into this obscure strand within music education research.

As a result, I remain somewhat perplexed and bemused by the differences
between pedagogy and andragogy. For example, I was struck by the paradoxical
behaviors that I observed in the vast majority of the participants while conducting field
work for this dissertation. In some instances, I witnessed elegant teaching and learning
sequences that elicited critical thinking among students, which, with slight modifications,

could be effortlessly replicated and applied to school music instruction. Yet in other

181

instances, I encountered adults who wanted to be instructed in what to do and who were
content with temporarily forfeiting their voices in the development of a musical product.
The unadulterated precepts of andragogy were not apparent in these cases, as those adults
who displayed a preference for autocratic rehearsals were not concerned with maintaining
a democratic classroom.

Furthermore, it is important to acknowledge that the conventional adult band
model that currently exists remains unchanged in many ways, and, as new band members
are socialized into behaving and thinking in new ways, inevitably. fosters a reliance on
conductor, not student, feedback. For example, while the philosophies of the
Cosmopolitan Music Society and the New Horizons Band indisputably and legitimately
speak to inclusiveness and acceptance among its members, they also replicate several of
the distinct features found in middle school and high school band settings, including a
concentration on note reading, the adoption and implementation of methodological
practices (band method books), a reliance on hierarchical frameworks for showcasing
groups, and an affinity for teacher-centered instruction. Consequently, it is a stimulating
prospect to consider how the traditionalism of band culture may interface, in several
creative ways, with andragogic (and pedagogic) principles. Further investigation is
needed in this area, as well, in order to examine pedagogical and andragogical attributes
and to perhaps create fewer demarcations between the two constructs. It may be through
the reflective process that the precepts of community music-making, as cited by Veblen
and Olsson (2002), could be experienced by a greater number of musicians and at

heightened levels of intensity.

182

While the concept of andragogy has, at times, been tenuous and indefinable, its
relevance to music education cannot be completely disregarded, and it remains an
intriguing prospect in terms of how musical knowledge is attained and how teaching
strategies may influence the potency of music acquisition. Andragogy also becomes a
compelling idea when one considers that what we may value in school music may not be
what is valued in community settings. How diligently we begin to arnalgamate and merge
the silos of school music and community (lifelong) music remains to be seen, yet
attempting to detail and fashion a working definition of music andragogy may be a
crucial, initial chapter in this process.

Additional questions to consider regarding the andragogic styles and tendencies
related to adult music education include (1) identifying, acknowledging, and meeting the
personal, social, and musical variables that are at work in the lives of adults, (2) striving
to create more holistic approaches to music education within the confines of a one-night-
a-week ensemble rehearsal, and (3) seeking and/or creating alternative venues for musical
involvement for adults who are not interested in conventional bands, choirs, or
orchestras. These considerations, as mentioned earlier, are also entirely applicable to
school music settings.

Because adults have traditionally possessed the ability to independently
conceptualize their own educational needs, it is through educating teachers in adult
learning theories that music instruction’s effectiveness may be enhanced. While
Brookfield (1986) noted that alternating “continuous engagements by teachers and
learners in exploration, action, and reflection is central to adult learning” (p. 15), it is

perhaps through these steps — exploring, acting, and reflecting — that andragogy’s position

183

and role within music education will become more clear. It is this sequence, then, that
may afford teachers a fiamework for not only suiting the needs of a growing population
of adult learners whose artistic and creative needs may be fulfilled through music
participation, but whose examples may be used in drawing lessons that inform school
music teaching and learning.

A concluding component in music education is the preparation of teachers for
teaching various age groups. As mentioned in Chapter 1, teaching lifetime learning habits
and learning to understand the critical developmental stages of junior high and high
school students, as well as adult students, may be a way to broaden the context of music
learning within the profession. Through reflecting on the multiple contexts of andragogy,
music educators may gain insight toward understanding the learning processes in students
and may subsequently examine how music is taught and learned. More important, how
this information can be used to create convincing implications for enriching music
teacher education curricula is worthy of examination. Undergraduate teaching programs
might also consider assigning students to additional fieldwork among adult learners and
infusing into the existing curriculum instruction in andragogic principles (Bowles &
Myers, 2005). Because a majority of students accepted into higher education may be
overwhelmingly trained in the conventional, Western style, preparing teachers who are
properly suited to meet the multiple demands of a changing society remains a pressing
consideration.

Finally, there are several ways in which school teachers and music teacher
education programs may apply lessons drawn from adult learning, including highlighting

the role of the teacher in facilitating musical empowerment among students, examining

184

the extent to which the concept of andragogy can or should be embraced by school music
education, stressing the often disparate and conflicted relationship between school music
and community music, and finally, relating the many ways in which music firnctions
within community ensembles and, thus, determining how and to what degree this may be
replicated in school music programs. While it is undeniable that pedagogical techniques
have been the cornerstones of school music instruction, examining and acknowledging
andragogic, self-directed teaching and learning strategies may be of great benefit and
interest to music educators as the profession endeavors to broaden the scope of music

education beyond the archetypal P-12 framework.

.185

EPILOGUE

“AN ELUSIVE BIRD”

June 2006; Edmonton, Alberta

“What are you writing down?” someone asks from behind. I turn to
see a friendly-faced guitarist looking inquisitively at my notebook. A waltz
begins in the background.

“Oh, just some notes,” I say and then explain to him my purpose for
being at the community fiddle jam that evening. He looks surprisingly
interested, and then divulges proudly, “I'm 67, and I started playing when I
was 65.”

“Terrific!” I say. “So you must be enjoying it, otherwise you wouldn’t
be here.”

“I’m an impres_a_r_'io,” he responds, dripping with sarcasm and toting a
devilish grin. He waddles away toward his circle of friends, but
unexpectedly doubles back, stands in front of me with the same roguish
smirk, and says matter-of-factly, “Learning to play music as an adult is just
like sex — you do the best you can.”

Just moments ago, I had introduced myself to a small cadre of
musicians, shaking their hands and thanking them for allowing me to visit
their fiddle jam. While many lingered near the chattering coffee pot and the
asserted goodies on the kitchen counter at the rear of the hall, Enoch, the

186

owner of a resonant baritone voice and the leader of the fiddle group,
walked me through fire Pleasantview Community Hall, showing me the
sound system used to amplify the soloists who would call each tune and
the small stage that supported the speakers and soundboard. A circle of
chairs arranged on the floor in front of fire stage awaited fire fiddlers and
guitarists who would soon occupy the seats and who were seemingly sfill
en route to fire hall. Wifir a neck bent like a crane peering across fire room,
a lone microphone was perched atop a silver, slender stand in front of one
of the chairs. Eventually, fire musicians who were overwhelmingly of fire
senior adult populafion, arrived and began rosining their bows and picking
at fireir guitars. Even firough not everyone had appeared yet, fire first song
began. “The key of Delta - D,” Enoch said as he placed fire guitar in his lap
and began strumming a tune I did not recognize. The ofirer guitarists and
fiddlers, in contrast to my own limited skill sets regarding folk times, joined
in comfortably and layered fireir sounds on top of fire melody.

Presenfiy, my attention shifts to fire circle of senior adults. The
microphone and its stand are passed around from one person to fire next,
each having an opportunity to select a song and fire appropriate key. Once
tunes are called, firey simply emerge. They evolve from a joke, a statement,
or an unspoken gesture. The caller begins fire tune as a mere soloist and
then fire others join in wifir an ornamented version of fire melody, a
countermelody, an independent harmony line, or any combination of firese

elements. Interestingly, fire players’ faces are exceedingly serene, yet

187

engaged and intuitive. Their bodies are relaxed and leisurely in fire manner
in which they bow and strum fireir instruments, yet their intensity of focus
and awareness of musical vocabulary is undeniably overt. Knowledgeable.
Anticipatory. Scrutinizing. Controlled. Alfirough I admit it was a long time
ago and set in quite anofirer context, I had seen that look before.

When I was a boy, my parents and I would drive to my Grandma and
Grandpa Kruse’s house for our annual New Year’s Eve get-together. Riding
up fire long gravel driveway, fire ice-blue holiday floodlight that shone on
the white-sided house served as a beacon in fire cold, frigid night,
signifying shelter, warmfir, safety, and, perceptible even to my most
juvenile perspectives at the time, a reassuring sense of simpler times that
could only be manifested firrough fire company of one’s grandparents.
From fire driveway, the luminous Christmas tree was visible firrough fire '
living room picfirre window, and fire single red light in fire middle of fire
candy cane styrofoam wreafir firat hung in fire window above fire kitchen
sink always seemed larger set against fire beads of condensation firat
clung to fire inside of fire glass.

Once inside, we were met wifir a shock of heat firrust up from fire
blazing furnace in fire basement. This initial impact was usually softened,
firough, by fire sweet aromas of baked goods laying in wait around the
corner, and sometimes by my aunt’s perfume that would often linger
behind her presence. The kitchen counters, as I came to expect, were

covered wifir an array of holiday foods including homemade cookies, a

188

cheese ball with crackers, pies, a relish tray - I can still taste fire tang of
Grandma Kruse’s sweet pickles - a variety of drinks, buns for fire
homemade sloppy-does first would be served following fire stroke of
midnight, and a nut bowl made from a cross-section of a tree trunk. I
remember how adult it felt using fire hand-held silver nutcrackers to smash '
my way into the almonds, pecans, English walnuts, Brazil nuts, and filberls
firat awaited me in fire wooden vessel.

Uncle Jim and Aunt Jan were firere, too, usually seated at fire round
wooden dining room table that, after forty years of enduring family meals,
homework, craflwork preparation, pie and homemade bread cooling,
prayer, and ofirer everyday chores, was smooth to fire touch and reflective
and glossy to fire eye. Remnants of a card game in progress lay exposed
on the table, fire yellow tablet score pad indicating where Grandma had
been sitting before she answered fire door to welcome us into the house.
The eloquent, traditional handwriting at fire top of fire page revealed that
she was keeping score yet again firat year.

The card game first would resume, usually after I pulled fire striped
organ bench up to fire table, was Solo, an old-world, nearly forgotten game
whose closest relative is Euchre. The challenge in firis particular card game
is firat no one knows who his or her partner is until fire secret someone
throws out fire ace first was included in fire original bid for trump. Clubs
with a heart ace. Clubs would be trump, of course, but fire player who

relinquishes fire ace of hearts becomes fire bidder’s partner, thus

189

accelerating fire game plan’s momentum for collecting tricks. Partners can
change wifir each passing hand; loyalties shift incessanfiy. Unlike scoring
in Euchre, point values were added on Grandma’s yellow tablet, and at the
end of each game cycle, fire loser would receive beside his or her name fire
dishonorable mark of misfortune, “fire black ‘tater,” deftly drawn by
Grandma’s dark ballpoint pen.

As I watched fire adults play, I was always cognizant of fire strange
countenance first would pass over firem as fire cards were being dealt.
Discussion and small talk would cease, drinks would be placed back on
their napkins, and cards would be swiffiy arranged by suit and value in fire
hands of fire four stakeholders. And firen I would see it — fire game face. It
was “fire look.” Aside from fire occasional (and startling) crack first
detonated when Grandpa Kruse’s knuckles made violent contact wifir fire
table-top as he zealously firrew an impervious trump card, fire players’
body postures were relatively relaxed. Unmoving, really, except for fire
right arm first would casually extend forward to drop a card into fire center
of fire table. Yet fire faces, in direct opposition to fire languid bodies, told
quite anofirer story. The players wore an intense focus. The eyes would
dart about fire room, counting tricks, counting trumps, and calculating
potential options as each play spiraled toward an unknown conclusion.
Without batting an eye, each player had fire ability to simultaneously
process what had been played earlier in fire game, what was being played

now, and could firerefore predict what cards were left to be played. I envied

190

their skill, fireir calmness, fireir competitiveness, fireir ability to infer, and
fireir confidence in fire game and of firemselves.

As I glance at fire circle of fiddlers, I see my relatives in them. The
wisdom. The control. The casual restraint. The experience and fire
concealed analysis. I see fireir countenance change when someone in fire
circle plays a countermelody or harmony line first is in fire wrong suit. I
also witness fireir eyebrows arch approvingly when a fellow musician
ornaments a stately waltz wifir a distinctive and refreshing new trump card.
I envy fireir ability to simultaneously process what has already been played
during fire tune, what is being played now, and how firey will continue to
negotiate fireir passage firrough deciphering non-verbal cuing and toward
fire inevitable conclusion of fire song.

The round-faced guitar player suddenly gets up, visually shattering
the image set before me, and waddles in my direction to change a broken
guitar string. He slowly opens fire lid to his case, tilts his head, firen looks
at me firrough firin slits as firough somefiring profound is about to
materialize from his moufir. He speaks in a ssge’s voice: “God’s greatest
gifts are .h_e_r_g (points to his head) and M. (points to his heart), so no
pissin’ around, eh?” He combines a wink and a nod then wanders off to his
seat carrying a new guitar string in his fleshy hand.

As I make my way down to fire basement of fire community hall, fire
aroma of fresh-brewed coffee first permeated fire upstairs is gradually

replaced by cool basement air first carries wifir it fire smells of fresh paint,

191

adhesive, and plaster — fire distinct scent of remodeling. Amplified by fire
ceiling above my head, I hear fire fiddlers upstairs pounding fireir feet on
fire floor to a new tune first has just started. It sounds as firough firere are
hundreds of people up firere having a wonderful time at a country barn
dance. I turn right and walk into a small room lined wifir soft, contemporary
track lighting first is shining on a group lesson for beginning fiddlers, and
Paul, a champion fiddler, is poised in front of his students.

“Playing fire fiddle is magic,” Paul says mysteriously, incorporating
wide eyes first scan his four adult students. “Tunes come and go.”

“It’d be nice if firey stayed for more firan m minutes!” counters one
of fire women. Prior to my arrival, fire students had been learning a folk
tune by ear and are now attempting to attach notes names to fire melody
and to square away intonsfion issues related to finger placement on fire
fingerboard. The folk melody fire students are learning is “Red Bird," a tune
about a beaufiful and enchanting, yet unattainable, Indian princess.

“All are attracted to her,” Paul continues, “yet no one can have her.
She is an elusive bird.” The firunderous pounding upstairs suddenly
becomes more powerful. Paul and fire four women sing fire tune togefirer.
“The brain guides your voice,” he reassures firem as firey strive for pitch
accuracy. The group firen begins fiddling “Red Bird” phrase by phrase until
the lesson is interrupted by a female’s piercing voice.

“Wait! I’m two steps behind you,” declares a frustrated fiddler who

cannot seem to negotiate her way firrough remembering fire note names,

192

let alone an entire verse.l“Take out fire decorations,” Paul recommends
calmly. “Strip everything else away and concentrate on fire basic tune.
Keep it simple until you get it. Did you ever have to memorize a poem?
Memorize a vocal song?” The quartet nods together in unison. “Then you
can play by ear,” he concludes. Issues of dexterity, memory, patience, and
notation acquisition are noticeable, yet Paul’s demeanor wifir firem is
nurturing, easy-going, and positive. While I would like to remain an
interloper in fire group lesson, I am beckoned by fire explosive, hypnotic
stomping I hear above my head and return upstairs to fire fiddle circle.
When I was a boy, I sat outide fire perimeter of a circular dinner
table, eager to learn fire secret of a mysterious card game. When I was a
teenager, I was inside fire circle, seated among fellow musicians in a
modest gazebo in a small-town park. As an adult, I find I am again on fire
outside of yet anofirer circle, firis time looking in on how fiddlers approach
the aural, instinctive, and informal mefirods of music-making. I am left to
contemplate how firese characteristics might inform our teaching, what
aspect of informal music Ieaming could be adapted or implemented into
formal settings, and how improvisation, composition, and aural freedom
might play a part in teaching student of any age to play music
instrument. Determining what additional component of Ieaming might be
explored firrough active participation in community music settings and
musing over fire possibilifies in which music can be experienced -bookend

to bookend, birfir to deafir - are exhilarafing prospect. Invesfigating,

193

expanding upon, and experiencing firese considerations may, in fact, be a
salient key to unlocking fire extraordinarily rewarding, yet deceivingly

unattainable, elusive bird of lifelong music-making.

194

Appendix A

Example of Interview Transcript

Winthrop Paroo
Interview of June 1, 2006
Concession Bar, Cosmopolitan Music Society

N’K = Nate Kruse
WP = Winthrop Paroo

 

NK: So what was it that drew you to the
trumpet?

WP: (Sighs) I heard bands [at home]. There
were always army bands, there were
always military bands, and police bands.
There was no, never any music in schools
at that time. And, it was just the, I think it
was the tone, the sound. It was always
interesting, always enjoyed listening to
bands, and I think it, just the tone and the
sound and the, maybe, image of the
trumpet (laughs) was what drew me to the
trumpet.

 

NK: So what did that image entail?

WP: (Sighs) That’s a good question,

I. . .(long pause). . .it seemed to be the
“lead” in the band. And that maybe was
part of my psyche, was part of my downfall

(laughs). . .

 

NK: (Laughs)

WP: ...I wanted to lead all the time and
that didn’t always work (laughs). No, I,
I’m, I’m, I’m bein’ serious in a sense.
Yeah, I think it, it, the trumpets always
seemed to stand out and they all seemed to
be the leader. And of course we’ve learned
since then that the trumpets do not always
lead the music (laughs) since then, but,
yeah, it sort of fit in with my ego at that
time, I think.

 

 

NK: OK. And no regrets?

 

WP: No, no regrets. The only regrets is that
I, I, really haven’t learned to play it as well
as I should have. And that’s a little

bit. . .laziness on my part, and also
constraints on time: business and family. I,
I, don’t (clears throat), not able to make as
much time for rehearsing or practicing as I

 

195

 

 

 

should’ve over the years, but I think I’ve
done reasonable well, I think.

 

 

NK: We were talking about this earlier, but
what’s the driving force behind doing band
over another activity that might require
perhaps less time or less money?

 

WP: The music. I mean (clears throat) -
and this part is almost directed at Harry - I
have learned so much about music. I’ve
learned so much to appreciate music a lot
better and I’ve always enjoyed music. Uh,
I’ve always enjoyed all, all classes and
types of music, but being able to ply; in the
band and un-, getting to understand the,
how it comes together, how the tone, how
the sound, how the ensemble comes
together, and being a part of a team, as it
were. And. . .expanding just, my knowledge
and understanding of music is just, that’s
the thing that keeps me here. God, there’s
always something new to learn. There’s
always something new to be, and of course
the music changes all the time, so many
pieces of music. You’re not playing Do-
Re-Mi all the time. And partly social, I
think it’s a social event, a connection, as
you, as you well know, as you found out!

 

196

 

Appendix B

Example of Interview Transcript with Codes

Winthrop Paroo
Interview of June I, 2006
Concession Bar, Cosmopolitan Music Society SIAM»

NK = Nate Kruse ‘l 0"
WP = Winthrop Paroo 0/04

 

NK: So what was it that drew you to the WP: (Sighs) I heard b ds at home . There
trumpet? were alwa 8 arm} hands. [here “as
ill“ .1) s mililur} hands. Llllkl police lmntlx
There was no, never any music in schools \
Fmfime. And, it was just the, I think it 13*
WSW was the .It was always (86”

0&301)’ interesting, always enjoyed listenin to (KW
)xi OQOXW bands, and I think it, just he tone and tbs/”T VII ‘
\m and the, maybe, image of the 0\

trumpet (laughs) was what drew me to the
trumpet.

     
   

 

NK: So what did that image entail? WP: (Sighs) That’s a ood uestion,
I...aong mam
xmflm And that maybe was

\me0! part of my psyche, was part of my downfall
(laughs)...

NK: (Laughs) WP: ...I wanted to all the time and
that didn’t always work (laughs). No, I,
I’m, I’m, I’m bein’ serious in a sense.
Yeah, I think it, it, [he Il'llmpclx .1I\\;1) \
\k'k‘lllk'kl In Hand nut and the} all \L'L'llle'kl lo
lw Ihc lcznlcl‘ And ofcourse we’ve learned .
since then that the trumpets do not always . M
lead the music Ian 8 since then, but, / l
eah,

 

   
   

   
   
 

 

 

NK: OK. And no regrets? WP: No, no re ets.

M 9 .
‘l x . lazrness on my part, and also
RI constraint on time: business and family. 1,
VI, don’t (clears throat), not able to make as

/ much time for rehearsing or practicing as I

 

 

 

‘GV‘
alwa)“

 

’VU’ "

ould’ve over the years, but I think I’ve
d e reasonable well, I think.

 

 

NK: We were talking about this earlier, but
what’s the driving force behind doing band
over another activity that might require
perhaps less time or less money?

to» /

 

W . I mean (clears throat) -
and this part is ahnost directed at Harry - I
have learned so much about music. I’ve

learned so mucht ;1 r fleeing mmic 4 lot
better ve alwa s enjoyed music. Uh,
ve always cnjn} Ctl
l .

   

........

always something new to be, and of course
the music changes all the time, so many
pieces of music. You’re not playing Do-
Re-Mi all the time. And partly social, I
think it’s a social event, a connection, as
you, as you well know, as you found out!

 

 

198

 

 

Appendix C

Interview Summary Form

Andragogy and Music
Interview Summary Form

 

 

 

Interviewee: Date:
Site: Today’s Date:
Group/'1‘ itle:

 

 

1. What were the main themes that struck you in this interview? (Give examples)

2. Pick out the most salient points in the transcript. Number in order on this sheet and
note page numbers on which the point appears. Number the point in the transcript.
Attach the theme to each point in CAPITALS. Invent themes where no existing ones
apply and affix asterisk (8).

 

Page Salient Points THEMES

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

3. What else struck you as interesting or unexpected in this interview?

4. What new, remaining, or follow-up questions do you have for this participant?

199

 

Appendix D

Example of Interview Summary Form

Andragogy and Music
Interview Summary Form

 

Interviewee: Amaryllis Date: 02/01/07

 

Site: MSU Community Music School Today’s Date: 02/09/07

 

Group/Title: New Horizons Band

 

1.

What were the main themes that struck you in this interview? (Give examples)

Her willingness to learn — private lessons, attendance, asking questions

Her ability/capacity to lead by example — her quiet ways, like Mayor Shinn, came
through in the interview; she also sets up the room before rehearsals

Her thoughyid responses -— she is a deep thinker and understands what she needs as an
adult learner

2.

Pick out the most salient points in the transcript. Number in order on this sheet
and note page numbers on which the point appears. Number the point in the
transcript. Attach the theme to each point in CAPITALS. Invent themes where no
existing ones apply and affix asterisk (8).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Page Salient Points THEMES

3 Significant restructuring of home practice GUIDED PRACTICE
sessions

5 Discrimination of mistakes; prescribing SELF -DIREC TED
solutions LEARNING

I 0 Adult desire to learn vs. forced participation MOT IVA T ION
as a child

 

200

 

 

3. What else struck you as interesting or unexpected in this interview?

Amaryllis provided thoughtful, articulate responses, and it was obvious that she leads a
self-reflective life. She has actually thought about how she learns, what she needs to
improve, and how she will get there. I was happy to know she endeavors to involve her

grandchildren in music on some level. Additionally, I was unaware that she used to live
in Calgary, Alberta!

4. What new, remaining, or follow-up questions do you have for this participant?

Will you continue to seek private lessons afier this current session is over?

What else have you learned through reorganizing your home practice sessions? Would
you change anything else about them? Why or why not?

Why are you a musician?

Would you ever consider joining a local community band? If so, when, and what

experiences would you be looking for in a community band that might be
difilzrent in the New Horizons Band?

201

Appendix E

Preliminary List of Codes and Themes

Early Experiences and Influences

o Delayed or denied entrance

0 Coercion of disinterest

0 Inspiration — military, police, and wedding bands

Flow

Self-efficacy and desire
Fear and anxiety

Pride

Challenge

Fun

Enjoyment

Frustration
Maintaining standards

Motivation
Recognition
Accountability
Responsibility
Affiliation
Allegiance
Competition
Performance
Commitment
Incentive
Having discipline

Mission Work
0 Reciprocity
0 Being a role model for students/others

Community involvement
Encouraging other to participate in music

Power Sharing
0 Conductor/ Student
- Hierarchy/ Structure of groups

202

Conductor expectations Of group members

Group members’ expectations of other group members
Group vs. individual

Conductor identity - professional distancing

Time constraints

Democracy

Respect

Identity

Duality — the self vs. “the whole”

Self-concept as “musician”

Diversity of membership vocations — assuming a new identity within the collective
Acceptance by others in the culture

Assimilation into the culture

Adrniration by others in the culture

Unwritten, hidden protocol — seating assignments, etc.
Self-discovery - being socialized to the band world
Na'iveté regarding band structures and/or expectations
Support network of peers

“Camaraderie”

Judging/Not judging others

Comparing oneself to others — admiration/envy

Group cohesiveness

Learning Styles

Techniques and strategies

Safe environment - creating a climate for grth

Memory —— cannot remember

Beauty of working with adults — will learn on own

Gaining understanding — better listening skills

Hearing music — deep listening

Adult life experience adds emotional connection to music — generational connection
to music

Teaching Styles

Leadership and goal setting

Recommendations for instructors — encouragement, personality, competence, passion
Correction thresholds — defensiveness when being corrected

Socialization of instructors — learning to teach adults, not kids

Other valued teaching traits

Teaching to differences - professionals vs. amateurs

203

o Treating adults like children
0 Difficulty of a one-night-a—week group - retention
0 Reinforcement of ideas -- breathing, posture, phrasing, articulation

Self-Directed Behaviors

0 Chamber music

0 Private lessons

0 Seeking outside resources
0 Problem solving

Health

Emotional escape from daily living
Parkinson’s Disease — adapting
Remaining active — mind and body
Keeping “chops” in shape

Issues/ Characteristics of Adult Lifestyle

0 “Laziness”

0 Resources - ease of purchasing instruments
0 Athletics and music

0 Boredom

0 Practice habits

0 Time management (lack of time)

204

Appendix F

Final List of Codes and Themes

Incentive
Early Experiences and Influences
0 Inspiration — military, police, and wedding bands
0 Recording and peers
o Coercion of disinterest

Denied or Delayed Access to Music Instruction
I Barred entrance
I Disapproval

Motivation
Recognition
Accountability
Responsibility
Affiliation
Allegiance
Competition
Performance
Commitment
Fear and anxiety

Flow

Self-efficacy and desire
Pride

Challenge

Fun

Enjoyment

Rewards and frustrations
Maintaining standards

Identity
Self-Identity
Duality - self vs. “the whole”
Acceptance by others in the culture
Assimilation into the culture
Admiration by others in the culture
Self-discovery - being socialized to the band world
Unwritten, hidden protocol
Comparing oneself to others - jealousy

205

Group Identity

Duality - Self vs. “the whole”

Diversity of membership vocations - assuming a new identity in the collective
Support network of peers

“Carnaraderie”

Judging/Not judging others

Group cohesiveness

Self-concept as “Musician ”
I Conflict between perception and identity

Being Part of a Musical Community

I Community involvement

I Reciprocity

I Being a role model for students/others
I Encouraging participation

Health

I Emotional escape from daily living
I Parkinson’s Disease — adapting

I Remaining active - mind and body
I Keeping “chops” in shape

Power Sharing

Conductor/ Student

Hierarchy/ structure of groups

Conductor expectations of group members
Group vs. individual

Rehearsal constraints

Democracy

Respect

Topics Related to Adult Learning

Learning Styles
I Techniques and strategies
I Safe environment - creating a climate for growth
I Memory - cannot remember
I Beauty of working with adults - will learn on own
I Gaining understanding — better listening skills
I

Hearing music — deep listening
Adult life experience adds emotional connection to music - generational
connection to music

206

Teaching Styles

Leadership and goal setting

0 Recommendations for instructors — encouragement, personality, competence,
passion

I Correction thresholds — defensiveness when being corrected

I Socialization of instructors — learning to teach adults, not kids

I Other valued teaching traits

I Teaching to differences — professionals vs. amateurs

I Treating adults like children

I Difficulty of a one-night-a-week group — retention

Reinforcement of ideas — breathing, posture, phrasing, articulation

Self-Directed Behaviors

I Chamber music

I Private lessons

I Seeking outside resources
I Problem solving

Time Limitations and Practicing
I “Laziness”

I Boredom

I Practice habits — self-guided
I Time management

207

REFERENCES

Achilles, E. (1992, December). Finding meaning in music for all ages. Music
Educators Journal, 79(4), 21-22.

Alperson, P. (1987). What is music? University Park: The University of
Pennsylvania Press.

Atkinson, P., & Hammersley, M. (1994). Ethnography and participant observation.
In N. K. Denzin & Y. S. Lincoln (Eds), Handbook of qualitative research (pp.
248-261). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.

Averill, G. (1997). A day for the hunter, 0 day for the prey: Popular music and power in
Haiti. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press.

Bartal, L. (2003). Body as an instrument for artistic exploration and change: An
invitation to experience. Lifelong Learning in Europe, 8(2), 38-43.

Beland, R. (2004). Teaching aging content to university-level non—gerontology majors.
Educational Gerontology, 30(7), 627-634.

Belli, R. (1996). Think drums [Guest Editorial]. North Hollywood, CA: Remo, Inc.

Berg, B. (2001). Qualitative research methods for the social sciences (4th ed.).
Boston: Allyn & Bacon.

Bergonzi, L., & Smith, J. (1996). The effects of arts education on participation in
the arts: An analysis of the 1992 Survey of Public Participation in the Arts.
Research Contract No. 93-303. Washington, DC: The National Endowment for
the Arts, Research Division. ERIC #409 259.

Blacking, J. (1995). Music, culture, and experience: Selected papers of John
Blacking. Reginald Byron (Ed.). Chicago: The University of Chicago
Press.

Boswell, J. (1992, December). Human potential and lifelong learning. Music
Educators Journal, 79(4), 38-40.

Bowles, C. L. (1991). Self-expressed adult music education interests and music
experiences. Journal of Research in Music Education, 39, 191-205.

Bowles, C. L. (1999, Winter). Teaching for adulthood: Transcending the child.
General Music Today, 12(2), 15-16.

208

Bowles, C. L., & Myers, D. (2005). Toward a lifespan perspective in music teacher
education. Paper presentation at the Symposium on Music Teacher Education,
University of North Carolina, Greensboro.

Brookfield, S. (1986). Understanding and facilitating adult learning. San Francisco:
J ossey-Bass.

Bruner, J. S. (1961). The Process of Education. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.

Bygren, L. O., Konlaan, B. B., & Johansson, S. (1996). Attendance at cultural events,
reading books or periodicals, and making music or singing in a choir as
determinants for survival: Swedish interview survey of living conditions. British
Medical Journal, 313, (7072), 1577-1580.

Cavanaugh, J. C. (1997). Adult development and aging (3rd ed.). Pacific Grove, CA:
Brooks/Cole.

Coffman, D. D. (1996). Musical backgrounds and interests of active older adult band
members. Dialogue in Instrumental Music Education, 20(1), 25-34.

Cof’fman, D. D., & Adamek, M. S. (1999). The contributions of wind band participation
to quality of life of senior adults. Music Therapy Perspectives, I 7, 27-31.

Coffman, D. D., & Adamek, M. S. (2001). Perceived social support of New ,
Horizons Band participants. Contributions to Music Education, 28(1), 27-40.

Coffinan, D. D. (2002). Adult education. In R. Colwell & C. Richardson (Eds), The New
Handbook of Research on Music Teaching and Learning (pp. 199-209). New
York: Oxford University Press.

Cosmopolitan Music Society. (n.d.) Membership guidelines [Brochure] Edmonton, AB.

Creswell, J. W. (2003). Research design: Qualitative, quantitative, and mixed
methods approaches (2“d ed.). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications.

Csikszentrnihalyi, M. (1975). Beyond boredom and anxiety. San Francisco:
Jossey-Bass.

Dabczinski, A. H. (1994). Northern week at Ashkan, 1991: Fiddle tunes, motivation
and community at a fiddle and dance camp. Unpublished dissertation, University
of Michigan, Ann Arbor.

Darkenwald, G. G. (1992). Adult education. In M. C. Alkin (Ed.), Encyc10pedia of
Education Research (6" ed.). New York: Macmillan.

209

Davenport, J ., III (1987). Is there a way out of the andragogy morass? Lifelong
Learning: An Omnibus of Practice and Research, 11(3), 17-20.

Deci, E. L., & Ryan, R. M. (1985). Intrinsic motivation and self-determination in human
behavior. New York: Plenum.

Dewey, J. (1933). How we think. New York: D. C. Heath.
Dowling, W. J ., & Harwood, D. L. (1986). Music Cognition. New York: Academic Press.

Eccles, J. (1983). Expectancies, values, and academic behaviors. In J. T. Spence (Ed.),
Achievement and achievement motives (pp. 75-146). San Francisco: Freeman.

Eccles, J ., Wigfield, A., Flanagan, C., Miller, C., Reuman, D., & Yee, D. (1989). Self
concepts, domain values, and self-esteem: Relations and changes at early
adolescence. Journal of Personality, 5 7, 283-310.

Eccles, K., & Elster, A. (2005, Summer). Learning through the arts: A new school of
thought? Education Canada, 45(3), 45-48.

Edwards, R. L., & Jankovic, J. (1980, November). Understanding people through music.
Lifelong Learning: The Adult Years, 4(3), 4-7.

Elliott, D. J. (1995). Music Matters. New York: Oxford University Press.

Ernst, R., & Emmons, S. (1992, December). New horizons for senior adults. Music
Educators Journal, 79(4), 30—34.

Farbman, A. (1994). Opportunities for the music products industry in the 21St century:
The emerging markets of people with disabilities and elderly persons. Music
Therapy Perspectives, Vol. 12, 35-38.

Finnegan, R. H. (1989). The hidden musicians: Music-making in an English town. New
York: Cambridge University Press.

Flanagan, J. (1982). Measurement of quality of life. Archives of Physical Medicine and
Rehabilitation, 63, 56-59.

Flynn, P. T., & Rich, A. J. (1982, December). Enlargement of printed music:
Technique, application, and implications. Gerontologist, 22(6), 540-543.

Ford, M. (1992). Motivating humans: Goals, emotions, and personal agency beliefs.
Newbury Park, CA: Sage.

210

Garrison, V. (1985). Traditional and non-traditional teaching and learning practices in
folk music: An etlmographic field study of Cape Breton fiddling (Doctoral
dissertation, University of Wisconsin-Madison, 1985) Dissertation Abstracts
International, 46/12, 3642.

Gaston, E. T. (1968). Man and music. In E. T. Gaston (Ed.), Music in Therapy. New
York: MacMillan.

Gates, J. T. (1991, Summer). Music participation: Theory, research, and policy.
Bulletin of the Council for Research in Music Education, I 09, 1-35.

Green, L. (2002). How popular musicians learn: A way ahead for music education.
Aldershot, England: Ashgate.

Hanson, A. (1996). The search for separate theories of adult learning: Does anyone really
need andragogy? In Edwards, R., Hanson, A., and Raggatt, P. (Eds), Boundaries
of Adult Learning: Adult Learners, Educationa and Training, Vol. I . London:
Routledge.

Horn, J. L. (1982).The aging of human abilities. In B. B. Wolrnan (Ed.), Handbook of
Developmental Psychology (pp. 847-870). Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall.

Hull, C. L. (1943). Principles of behavior: An introduction to behavior theory. New York:
Appleton-Century-Crofis.

Hull, K. C. (1990). Special problems of the eldery. Unpublished paper, Midwestern State
University, Wichita Falls.

Humphries, B. (1988). Adult learning in social work education: Towards liberation or
domestication. Critical Social Policy, 23, 4-21.

International Society on Music Education (ISME). Retrieved October 9, 2005, fiom
http://www.isme.org

Jarvis, P. (1997). Towards a discipline of adult education? In P. Jarvis (Ed.),
Twentieth Century Thinkers in Adult Education. London: Routledge.

Johnson, J. E. S. (1985). Music tn the creative lifestyles of the elderly. Unpublished
thesis, Norfolk State University, Norfolk.

J orgensen, D. L. (1989). Participant observation: A methodology for human
studies. Newbury Park, CA: Sage

Knowles, M. (1950). Informal adult education. New York: Associated Press.

211

Knowles, M. S. (1968). Androgogy, not pedagogy! Adult Leadership, 16, 350-352,
386.

Knowles, M. S. (1979). Andragogy revisited part 11. Adult Education, 30, 52-53.

Knowles, M. S. (1984). The adult learner: A neglected species (3ml ed.). Houston, TX:
Gulf Publishing Company.

Koga, M., & Tims, F. (2001, October/November). The music-making and wellness
project, American Music Teacher, 18-22.

Koops, L. H. (2006). Children ’s music making in The Gambia: Pathways to culturally
informed pedagogy. Unpublished dissertation, Michigan State University, East
Lansing.

Lindeman, E. C. (1926). Andragogik: The method of teaching adults. Workers ’
Education, 4, 38.

Locke, E. A., & Latham, G. P. (1990). A theory of goal setting and task performance.
Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall.

Long, B. (1995, Summer). Interview: Raymond Fairchild. Appalachian Journal, 22(4),
392-406.

Lyons, P. (1988). Cooperative learning methods and the adult learner. ERIC
#ED304962

MacLean, J. R (1981). Lifelong learning: An overview. ERIC #ED204533.

Maehr, M. L., Pintrich, P. R., & Linnenbrink, E. A. (2002). Motivation and
achievement. In R. Colwell & C. Richardson (Eds), New Handbook of
Research on Music Teaching and Learning (pp. 348-372). New York: Oxford
University Press.

Mark, D. (1992). Music teacher training in the year 2000: A perspective from Vienna. In
Music teacher training in the year 2000 - Three European perspectives.
International conference in research on music education. Goteborg: Skrifier fian
musikvetenskap, No 32.

Mark, D. (1998). The music teacher’s dilemma — musician or teacher? International
Journal of Music Education, 32, 3-23.

Mark, M. (2002). Music education: Source readings fiom ancient Greece to today. New
York: Routledge.

212

McAlister, E. (2002). Ram: Vodou, power, and performance in Haiti and its
diaspora. Berkley: University of California Press.

McCarthy, M. (1999). Passing it on: The transmission of music in Irish culture. Cork,
Ireland: Cork University Press.

McClelland, D. C. (1985). Human motivation. Chicago, IL: Scott Foresman.

Merriman, A. P. (1964). The anthropology of music. (up): Northwestern University
Press.

Merriam, S. B., & Caffarella, R. S. (1999). Learning in adulthood: A comprehensive
guide (2“d ed.). San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.

Myers, D. (1992, December). Teaching learner of all ages. Music Educators Journal,
79(4), 23-26.

Nanongkham, P. (2006). Inside the piphat ensemble: Interpretations of clientship and
class structure in Thai society regarding Thai classical music. Paper presentation
at the annual meeting of The Niagara Chapter, Society for Ethnomusicology.

Nah, Y. (1999). Can a self-directed learner be independent, autonomous and
interdependent?: Implication for practice. Adult Learning, 11(1), 18-19, 25.

NAMM International Music Products Association. (n.d.) New Horizons Band
[Brochure] Carlsbad, CA: NAMM.

Nuessel, F., VanStewart, A., & Cedeno, A. (2001, November-December). A course on
humanistic creativity in later life: Literature review, case histories, and

recommendations. Educational Gerontology, 27(8), 697-715.

Pankratz, D. B. (1987). Toward integrated study of cultural and educational policy.
Designs for Arts in Education, 89(2), 17.

Pieters, J. M. (1996). Psychology of adult education. In A. C. Tuijnman (Ed.),
International Encyclopedia of Adult Education and Training (2"‘1 ed., pp. 150
158). New York: Elsevier Science.

Pintrich, P. K, & Schunk, D. (2002). Motivation in education: Theory, research, and
applications (2mI ed.). Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall.

Pitts, S. (2005). Valuing musical participation. England: Ashgate.

Rachlin, H. (1991). Introduction to modern behaviorism. New York: Freeman.

213

Radocy, R., & Boyle, J. D. (1988). Psychological foundations of musical behavior.
Springfield, IL: Charles C. Thomas.

Reimer, B. (2003). A philosophy of music education: Enhancing the vision (3rd ed.).
Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall. .

Reischmann, J. (2004). Andragogy: History, meaning, context, function. Retrieved
January 15, 2006, from the University of Barnberg Web site:
http://www.andragogy.net

Rideout, R. R. (2002, September). Psychology and music education since 1950. Music
Educators Journal, 89(1), 33-37.

Rider, M. (1997). The rhythmic language of health and disease. St. Louis: MMB.

Roskam, K. (1993). Feeling the sound: The influence of music on behavior. San
Francisco: San Francisco Press.

Roskam, K., & Reuer, B. (1998). A music therapy wellness model for illness
prevention. St. Louis.

Ross, S. D. (1994). Art and its significance. Albany: State University of New York Press.

Savicevic, D. (1999). Understanding andragogy in Europe and America: Comparing
and contrasting. In Reischmann, J ., Bron, M., Jelenc, Z., (Eds), Comparative
Adult Education 1998: The Contribution of ISCAE to an Emerging Field of Study.
Ljubljana, Slovenia: Slovenian Institute for Adult Education, p. 97-119.

Sheldon, D. A. (1998, Fall). Participation in community and company bands in Japan.
Update: Applications of Research in Music Education, I 7(1), 21-24.

Sloboda, J. A. (1984). Music performance: Expression and the development of
excellence. In R. Aiello (Ed.) with J. A. Sloboda, Musical Perceptions. Oxford:
Oxford University Press.

Small, C. (1980). Music, society, education. London: John Calder Publishers.

Small, C. (1998). Musicking: The meaning of performing and listening. Hanover:
University Press.

Smith, J. M. (2001). When the hands are many: Community organization and social
change in rural Haiti. Ithaca: Cornell University Press.

Smith, M. K. (1996; 1999). Andragogy: The encyclopaedia of informal education.
Retrieved June 21, 2006, from httpz/lwww.infed.org/thinkers.et-knowl.htm.

214

 

Smith, M. V., & Haack, P. (2000, November). The long view of lifelong learning. Music
Educators Journal, 87(3), 28-33.

Stake, R. (1995). The art of case study research. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.
Tennant, M. (1996). Psychology and adult learning. London: Routledge.

Tisdell, E. J. (1993) Feminism and adult learning: Power, pedagogy, and praxis. New
Directions for Adult and Continuing Education, 7, 91-103.

Urdan, T. C., & Maehr, M. L. (1995). Beyond a two-goal theory of motivation and
achievement: A case for social goals. Review of Educational Research, 65, 213
243.

VanderArk, S. (1989) Self-esteem, creativity, and music: Implications and directions for
research. Suncoast Music Education Forum on Creativity, 105-121.

VanGent, B. (1996). Andragogy. In. A. C. Tuinjman (Ed), International Encyclopedia of
Adult Education and Training (p. 114-117). OxfordzPergamon.

Veblen, K. K., & Olsson, B. (2002). Community music. In R. Colwell & C.
Richardson (Eds), The New Handbook on Music Teaching and Learning (pp.
730-753). New York: Oxford University Press.

Waldron, J. L. (2006). Adult and student perceptions of music teaching and learning at
the Goderich Celtic College, Goderich, Ontario, Canada: An ethnographic study.
Unpublished dissertation, Michigan State University, East Lansing.

Woodford, P. G. (2005). Democracy and music education. Bloomington: Indiana
University Press.

Woody, RH. (2004, January). The motivations of exceptional musicians. Music
Educators Journal, 90(3), 17-21.

215