It was quite a nice party, thought Peggy, buffing the wine glass circles off the piano lid in the living room.  Hopefully, Steve will get this promotion.  And Debbie!  God bless her..., me, and teaching music!  True, some extra income would be nice, especially if Steve doesn’t get this promotion, but what would I teach?  These few hymns I still remember from my church days,.…. and who wants to play them nowadays anyway?  Debbie said that there are books for teaching.  Maybe I should go tomorrow, if this shop still exists, or try online.

✴   ✴   ✴   ✴   ✴

   There’s tons of it, Peggy marveled, stroking the spines of the “method” books.  Let’s see…            “…jazz…”, “...hits…”, “...for teens…”  Nah, had enough problems with my own at this age, “...classical…” that’s more like it, “...progressive…” hmm, what about this one, Peggy pulled out the book mouthing the foreign name.  They know, for sure, how to make things.  Not only a car but even a lawnmower.  Debbie says, they also make pianos.  Many levels - that’s good. And classical composers…. Peggy made up her mind, heading for the cash register.

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   The merit of a teacher is usually seen through the achievements of students.  Needless to say that the very nature of a student's achievement always depended on the system of values observed during particular times.  At first, renowned composers influenced novice composers.  Later on, celebrated performers of the virtuosi era inspired new teaching methods with a strong focus on technical skills.  These days, the excellence of a teacher is measured by the number of trophies procured by the students at various competitions. 

   While there was no mystery around the art of composing (a composer-to-be, in addition to constant exposure to art music, could access an actual score of any piece to see how things were done), the making of a brilliant performer was always subject to countless speculations.  It is  impossible to ascertain what part of the student's success resulted from the methods applied in the course of education and how much is due to natural talent.  Yet it is the methods and teaching tools that, once introduced by renowned teachers of the early Romantic era, became the most credible measures to educate a performer.

   We don’t know much about actual methods used by master pedagogues back then if we are to understand a "method" as not only what was taught but also how.  The oral testimonies passed by their pupils to the next generation of students (and those to the next and so on...) turned into scarcely credible legends.  There are no recorded references to the fundamental elements of technique like the student's posture, handling of an instrument, or body mechanics.  We can’t observe any exemplary practice procedures of the most successful virtuosi since descriptions of such don’t exist.   There are no formulated guidelines for any of the essential components of interpretation like the tone quality and articulation suitable for a particular style, the choice and the maintenance of the proper tempo, or the dynamic and agogic direction of a phrase.   What memorizing methods were recommended?  What techniques to conquer stage anxiety were exercised?  Regrettably, the only legacies bequeathed to us by these esteemed maestri are volumes of mostly - educational pieces.  Some of such books were pretentiously named "Schools" or "Methods" while being, in fact, merely collections of mindless repetitive exercises or studies oriented on various technical problems.

   One has to admit that many of the compositions published as such reached artistic value beyond just an etude.  Some composers attempted to fill the gaps in the somewhat neglected literature for their beloved instruments.  Others (aware of their limitations) settled for relatively short compositions of a free form and named them, a la mode, etudes.  Whatever the case, teachers of the Romantic era, being at the same time fully qualified composers,  respectably expanded Art Music literature, especially the portion intended for young students.  All these compositions are still greatly appreciated and used as educational material by many teachers.

   Advancing through these pieces, as well as any other compositions in music literature, may elevate a student to a higher technical level or may, unfortunately, deepen already existing wrong habits, leading inevitably to the proverbial “hitting of a wall” at some point.  The musical interpretation of these pieces may be thorough and complete or superficial and incomplete -  based only on the few dynamic and agogic indications marked by the composer.  Everything depends on the teacher’s knowledge, experience, skill, and ultimately… well... teaching methods. 

   The idea of selective publication, or should I say - an anthology, is almost as old as the concept of the publication itself.  This is where the desire for more significant monetary gain of one meets the frugal approach of the other, and both are satisfied.

  

   Not many extravagances could manifest refinement of the XIX c. household better than the purchase of a pianoforte.  The instrument usually came with a piano stool and, occasionally, with a complimentary book of music.  In a book like this, easy or simplified pieces of art music shared pages with folk tunes, fashionable dances, religious hymns, and patriotic songs.  Such haphazard assortment reflected a rather indiscriminate taste resulting from no more than a symbolic music education and only sporadic exposure to art music.  Nevertheless, all these compositions could be easily performed due to the simplicity of piano playing – tapping on conveniently sized keys to initiate sound with fully prepared pitch – by anyone with but an elementary reading skill.  Additionally, a “good ear” would always supplement the reading process, as many of these melodies were commonly known.

   Any pursuit of higher artistic refinement involved relatively regular music lessons, perseverance, and of course, art music literature.  A qualified and experienced teacher would select pieces suitable for his teaching method and, at the same time, most beneficial for an individual student.  He could even compose offhand preliminary exercises addressing certain deficiencies or technical difficulties.

   Unfortunately, only very few had the opportunity to be guided by a pedagogue of such proficiency.  Music conservatories admitted only the best and already quite advanced students.  Renowned but unaffiliated private teachers usually established their reputation in the musical environment of a big metropolis.  And thus, for the most part, a musically inclined parent or a governess customarily provided the first instructions in music.  Quite often, these first teachers were the only teachers responsible for the advancement of an amateur musician who could, at one point, choose a career as a small-town music teacher or governess, or turn out to be, as one would expect, a musically inclined parent, or play music just for the love of it.  Whatever the outcome, every new publication of sheet music was greatly appreciated.  Well, maybe not every.    Most of these music lovers wouldn’t purchase a complete edition of, for example, sonatas by one composer, as they were usually interested in only a few slow movements.  Besides, they would prefer a variety of composers, styles, and genres as long as the compositions were, or had been arranged to be, within the scope of their performing abilities. The properly edited collection was the ideal solution.  Naturally, they would gladly recall pieces learned in the past but would also explore the new - if only not too demanding - material.  They were open to suggestions.  An editor, being obliged first and foremost to fulfill the expectations of a potential buyer, is also entitled to make final decisions about the content of a collection.  This explains the presence of some less known and rather inferior compositions sandwiched there for reasons other than the artistic value of the piece.  Such machinations (even more prevalent in the present day) can only stain what could be otherwise a quite justifiable publication.

   The increasing number of amateur musicians may be regarded as a sign of general cultural advancement.  Indeed, since spontaneous artistic tendencies are usually stimulated by exposure to the works of the masters, it is reasonable to assume that the higher count of amateurs is due to the expansion in the world of professionals.  Oddly enough, in the last few decades – while more and more children (and adults) take up music lessons and enjoy themselves in various festivals, music camps, academies, and competitions – professional musical establishments struggle to stay alive, music schools constantly lower their standards and many graduates forgo a musical career anyway.  One may wonder, are professional musicians a dying breed?  And if so, who is teaching all these amateurs?

   Answers to these vital questions depend upon the interpretation of professionalism.  If professional means: competent, experienced, accomplished, and proficient, then yes, professional musicians are now more than ever, perhaps not a dying breed but at least an endangered species.  However, when the qualities listed above are non-essential as some other distinctions may secure employment and the social status resulting from it equally well or better, we have to take into account a different, yet, by no means unprecedented, breed of professionals not only very much alive but even prosperous.  Of course, the grounds for the distinctions I alluded to have been changing throughout history, along with the transformations of political systems, religious beliefs, and moral codes.  What was once considered a virtue could be branded a stigma fifty years later.  Commonly loathed abominations may eventually become universally accepted norms.  Well, panta rhei I guess.

   Be that as it may, there is a particular type of people (scholars and artists included) that, thanks to an ultra-developed skill of adaptation, will always manage to nestle themselves on the top of the wheel of fortune.  They target, preferably, high-ranking appointments and seek to obtain employment through back-door connections.  In the music education field, one often comes across such specimens in schools of collegiate level (where camouflage of incompetence is relatively easy) as well as all kinds of unions and societies.  The rudimentary level of schooling, on the other hand, seems to be less prone to harbor such contamination, as no “other distinctions” could substitute for an understanding of body mechanics, forming of a teaching method, or enforcement of work discipline. One would think nothing could truly substitute for these essential values, especially in the elementary stages of education, and that no pedagogue could succeed without them. 

   And yet, teachers for beginners, by and large, are not qualified enough to appreciate much less implement these vital aspects of teaching and, into the bargain, are unaware of the almost irreversible harm caused by their ignorance.  Such an outcome is only to be expected (not necessarily justified) when anyone interested in music may obtain private lessons from whoever is willing to give them and the lower echelons of music education are, to be quite frank, full of incompetent amateurs "teaching" other amateurs how to play music. How on earth do they convince a potential employer of their qualifications?  It’s simple.  Would anyone question the medical profession of a person dressed in scrubs and equipped with a stethoscope?  In the same way, not many would doubt the teaching qualifications of a person armed with a “method book”.

  

   The economic and cultural resurgence after WWII brought new ideas, fresh energy, and...

competition between two major political blocks.  The most constructive outcome of this  rivalry - a great advancement in performing arts (especially music) - is appreciated even more today when so many cities, once vibrant with artistic vivacity, succumbed to the cultural decline of the present-day Western world.

   Halfway through the XX century, the creative span of WTAM ended.  Various non-tonal concepts, still in progress since the late 1800s, could hardly serve as soothing therapy for a general audience worn out by the horrors of the previous decades.  The majority of music lovers readily embraced the riches of traditional tonal music yet again, and almost all artistic potential diverted from experimental composing to the innovative interpretation of already existing works.  All previously established ways to forge a performer were brought back to light, while newly introduced teaching methods promised even better results.  Indeed, some ingenious pieces for children, written by teaching and actively performing composers, completely outshone the five-note mechanical exercises of the old school.  There was at least one great pedagogue in almost every European country who claimed to know how to produce an unsurpassed performer.

   Mass-produced State-run music schools created unparalleled opportunities for musically inclined children and adults, and even those were frequently scouted for super talents.  These were subsequently placed in special schools for gifted children.  Plenty of publications appeared on the market: revamped old Schools or Methods, original collections inspired by the novel approach in pedagogy, all imaginable exercises and etudes, newly assembled art music selections, and complete editions of works by quintessential composers.

   Thanks to post-war cultural exchange, Western music was introduced - for the first time on a large scale - to Asian countries.  In some, fascination with Western art music was so great that special efforts were made to mimic European teaching methods.  Ironically, some of these well-intentioned but quite amateurish concepts made their way to the Western world and became particularly popular in countries with relatively low professional teaching power. 

   In the last thirty or so years, new books for beginners grew like “mushrooms after the rain.” Unfortunately, like mushrooms, many are of little value, and some are even quite poisonous.  There are as many kinds of them as there are reasons for their writing and publication.  There is, though, one rationale almost all of them share - the naive belief that the new is always better than the old.  Often, what is intended to look new is actually old, only refurbished with a contemporary appendage which doesn’t improve the content at all. 

   For example, the five adjacent keys exercises introduced by XIX c. teachers in “method books” are still popular today for their clarity of concept and almost instant simple harmonies.  However, these graceful little arrangements may create habits quite detrimental to the development of a student.  The unspecified articulation will result in wrist tension when instinctively attempted legato is too difficult for the weaker fingers.  Narrow, usually one clef, pitch range compromises the role of the upper arm in overall body mechanics.  Finally, combinations of five keys corresponding to the number of fingers hardly develop reading skills, especially if each note comes with a finger number.  The new, more alluring titles and graphics in each new edition or different combinations of the same five notes don't make these flaws any smaller.  The picture of a hand on the keyboard or the name of a key fitted within the head of a note stunts even more the cognitive abilities of a student, just like marking a fingerboard with tapes dulls sensitivity to pitch.  A broader pitch range, various articulations, and frequent leaps would eliminate the above-mentioned risks.

   Another example of the "new" idea being an old trick is the usage of well-known tunes in collections for beginners.  The only subtle difference between the first pianoforte books and the recent “method books” lies in the reasons for the inclusion of such material.  In the old days, people truly enjoyed and gladly played familiar melodies.  These days, fast learning of a piece that is partly read and partly played by ear "proves" the efficiency of a “method.”  The mimicking of a teacher simulates quick progress even better and always was the easiest method of “teaching” for it yields an instant accomplishment … for the present moment. 

   Publishing abbreviated compositions could be fully justified in pre-radio days (even if many composers were often turning in their graves).  The actual playing of music was almost the only way to explore art music literature, and most of the compositions in their original version were simply too difficult for an average amateur musician.  Nowadays, music lovers don’t have to rely on simplified arrangements to enjoy the riches of art music.  They don’t have to learn and play anything at all, as the extensive audio files of ever-present electronic devices grant access to the original version of any piece within seconds.  One would hope that the mutilation of famous works is finally a matter of the past.  Alas, bits and pieces of celebrated compositions are still used in many books for beginners as a glorious ascent into art music literature.  Why deceive a student with false (since only partial) accomplishment?  There is an abundance of pieces written specifically for beginners, suitable for any level of advancement without the need for simplifications, trimmings, or rearrangements.

   Keyboard instruments were born out of a quest for the precise and relatively easy generation of multiple sounds controlled by one player.  A device with such capabilities could, and eventually did, provide a harmonic foundation for a voice, single-line instrument, or small ensemble.  In the span of but a few centuries, toy-like first keyboards gradually developed into magnificent sound machines able to make the walls of a cathedral tremble; others evolved into powerful batteries of strings and hammers ready to stand their ground against a symphonic orchestra in a duel of a Romantic piano concerto.  By the end of the XVIII century, the structure of keyboard (especially piano) music had already become so complex that amateur musicians often resorted to four-hand arrangements of originally one-performer pieces.

   This pragmatic solution turned out to be quite popular for the social aspect of shared enjoyment in the setting of a piano duet.  To be sure, we mustn’t confuse such adaptations with compositions intended, by design, for two keyboard performers.  Modern-day ways of teaching introduced a couple of different concepts of a duet.  Many “method” books include four-hand exercises for students barely able to play five notes.  Consequently, the division of parts is rather disproportional.  A student is responsible for a simple long-note melody while the teacher provides a busy but not always harmonically accurate accompaniment.  Whether a beginner benefits from exposure to a richer sonority or gets only undeserved satisfaction from the inflated final product is open for discussion.

   The original piano duets constitute but a small proportion of WTAM piano literature.  Most of the time, even the most intricate structures envisioned by a composer are supposed to be brought to life through the skill of ten fingers in charge of eighty-eight keys.  Hence, each composition bestowed upon us is finished and complete, just as written.  Yet, some enthusiastic, part-time composers try to enhance commonly renowned compositions with an accompaniment part.  Now, how many composers are spinning in their graves this time? 

   Under collective pressure from parents, sociologists, psychologists, and teachers, Western education eventually gave up a customary, regime-like code of schooling, embracing incentive-based methods instead.  According to the new progressive guidelines, a student is not supposed to be forced but rather attracted to learning, attracted by any means.  Art music generally doesn’t affect an ordinary person at first contact.  It takes some taste acquired through exposure to this kind of music to appreciate its beauty.  Popular music, on the other hand, is accessible to anyone instantly.  Thanks to the combined effort of various media, the primitive rhythmic and harmonic structures of this music are familiar to most children long before they experience any form of art music.  That’s why popular, fashionable melodies are usually the first tunes they try to play by ear.  While these spontaneous attempts are rather innocent and relatively harmless, the mésalliance of minuets and gavottes with boogie and rock-and-roll in books for beginners is a downright travesty of art and education.  What are we to expect down the road when some of these students become directors of musical venues? Motets and madrigals next to rhythmicized recited in monotone obscenities?  Definitely, any book of this sort deserves the label Fly Agaric in our gallery of mushroom-like “method books”.

   For reasons unfathomable to me (maybe Peggy could shed some light upon it), some “methods” attract more attention in the ranks of private teachers than other books of similar design.  Maybe it’s the allure of the name.  Maybe the appeal of the book cover.  For sure it’s not the content of the book.  Even if some authors try to stay within the bounds of art music literature, their comprehension of art music is incomplete, and consequently, the choices are poor.  Naturally, most amateur teachers are unaware of that.

   Whatever attracts the first advocates of a new method must also win the larger public for the body of followers to grow.  Once this happens, the numbers of students and teachers multiply in a snowball effect, and a “method” gets recognition, reputation, and of course, more publications.  Workshops and training programs get attended, certificates are issued, and before long, amateurs become teachers.  Even higher education schools offer courses and seminars during which ignorance begets more ignorance.  One of the most shameful outcomes of such a scheme is the quantity of reasonably educated teachers who succumb (earnestly or less so) to the “method” for the higher influx of students. 

   As I stated before, a set of pieces, on its own, does not constitute a method.  Were this so, there would be no need for any further instructions beyond those in basic music notation.  For an average student familiar with the alphabet and a ruler, it’s a matter of 1-2 lessons.  And then voila, just reading and playing the “method” content will do the teaching.  For any final refinement of interpretation, an audio CD, often attached to the book, may be used.  Not exactly.

   All sarcasm aside, we all know that every student needs a teacher.  But what proficiency one may expect from a teacher who himself needs to get instructed on how and what to teach?  Sadly, the overwhelming majority of teachers wouldn’t be able to function without this kind of guidance.  Being aware of this embarrassing dependency, none of them, I believe, would oppose a further advance of their pedagogical skills.  They would greatly appreciate genuine method books on teaching music.  We all would.  When a book like this gets written and published, I will be the first to read it.