We welcome again on our blog composer and friend Liviu Marinescu, coordinator of music composition and theory at California State University Northridge.
Much of what I have learned about teaching music over the
past 20 years has happened slowly, away from my students, during long periods
of quiet reflection. Following so many lectures and exams, discussions with peers or graduation recitals – all peppered with the usual failures from time
to time – I have gradually discovered what works in the classroom. With experience and the test of time finally
on my side, I am now more confident in voicing my thoughts on teaching and
mentoring. Still, there is much learning waiting ahead.
Most attempts to develop and articulate a single teaching
philosophy in application to a wide range of academic environments are bound to
be unsuccessful at some point. The goals of a liberal arts education are
fundamentally different from the competitive milieu of a music conservatory or
the typical life on a state university campus, where bureaucracy can sometimes
overshadow initiative and talent. Yet, a number of general concepts and
strategies have provided me the strength to succeed in most situations and
educational environments. I shall focus on these:
In search of a role model
I learned so much more from musicians who could set an
example before preaching about it. Starting with my best teachers and going
back to Bach, Fauré, Schoenberg, Messiaen, Ligeti, or Crumb, all of them
equally inspiring as composers and mentors, the lessons I learned are simple:
never stop searching, composing, sharing and
inspiring. Such role models can have a lasting effect upon students trying to
find their voice and develop an artistic identity, as their pursuits can easily
resonate across the mentor-apprentice line.
Young or experienced, composers will eventually head in different aesthetic directions. Yet, we are all
looking for a more personal and unique way to create music, working with
similar ideas and concepts, and trying to draw from the contemporary world. It
just happens that we, the mentors, are a little more experienced. By showing before
preaching about it, striving to become a role model myself one day shall remain
my primary goal as an educator.
The gift of communication
Like most students, I too have experienced a few endless
lectures with little impact on my growth. Often, it was not that my teachers
had nothing to say; it was that they didn’t know how to say it. While the
resolution of a dominant-seventh chord or basic structure of the sonata-allegro
form have not changed much over the past few centuries, the way we communicate
has gone through numerous transformations. Every new generation of students is
bound to read less than before, or better said, is probably going to read
differently. Despite that more content is being produced every day, there are fewer
bookstores and music stores where relevant information can be sorted out and
curated. Libraries are rarely crowded. Ultimately, it is not a lack of
information that prevents a student from succeeding, but a lack of pertinent
information or even the abundance of irrelevant data. This is where our
mentoring work becomes essential. Unless we have a clear understanding of how
every new generation is going to develop skills and acquire knowledge, especially
with technology evolving so fast, we are bound to resonate less and less with
our students.
A great teacher is an effective communicator, willing to
adapt, change and learn continuously. He or she is in tune with the present-day
student, and ready to constantly reform the means of communication by seeking
feedback and providing it at the same time.
Mastering the canon
Most masterpieces I know came from composers with a deep
understanding of their past. In the western musical world, a successful teacher
should encourage all students to master the traditional skills and techniques
pertaining to musicianship, tonal harmony, musical forms, counterpoint, and
orchestration. Having been educated in a music conservatory from the age of
seven, I have learned to appreciate the values of a solid foundation in music
theory. Whether I had to wrestle with the strict rules of part writing, take
careful steps in 16th century species counterpoint, or move
in-between the fixed and movable do solfège sytems, mastering the canon took
time and a considerable amount of steady work. It was a phase that I fully
accepted and eventually completed. It was great.
Based on my experience teaching music theory, abstract
concepts and hands-on skills should be taught separately. It’s not that the
application of abstract concepts is undesirable; it is the fact that finding
instructors who can excel in both areas is a rather difficult task. Last but
not least, the number of well-structured textbooks covering music theory and
ear training at the same time is still limited.
Revolting against it
Each new generation will flourish and grow by bringing us
new ideas and ideals. Some will even revolt against the canon. As with any
field, in music change happens through gradual processes of evolution
interrupted occasionally by drastic revolutions. We have the duty to encourage
our students to think beyond the canon, and if needed, revolt against it and
us.
Music doesn’t come from music
I have learned so much in the classroom, but so much more
outside, away from musical instruments and staff paper. Having had time to
reflect upon my growth as a composer and teacher, I cannot underestimate how
much I have discovered on my own, after being taught how and where to search
for knowledge and inspiration. I shall continue this search, while teaching
students the same great lessons I was fortunate enough to learn from real life
experiences.
Liviu Marinescu
Los Angeles,
January 2013