Music Theory

 A few weeks ago my friend, Kim, asked me how to get her daughter to learn to read music. This little girl "can play by ear, but she is either unwilling or unable [after four years of lessons] to read music." Kim  was frustrated because her daughter loves music, and playing, but it felt like she was wasting her money on lessons.

So I gave her a few ideas, and she said she'd try them out. And that's when it hit me: Kids don't learn to play an instrument
1. because their parents aren't dedicated. (This sounds supremely judgmental and harsh, but I think it's a big part of the whole equation.—Not you, Kim. :-) ), and 2. because most piano method books go about it the wrong way, and teachers don't know any different way of doing it. (I quit trying to teach piano lessons because of the same frustrations Kim expressed. Which makes me not any better than the teacher who tries, but doesn't quite get it right—probably worse, actually.)

To tackle the parents first:

I've told this to friends and to parents of my own students a lot: You have to have music in the house. You have to. Then the parents tell me that their kids love music, and they have songs that they like, etc.

But I'm not talking about just listening now and then. They have to be surrounded, immersed, bathed in good music. This is how I really learned to love music and to want to play it. (I also learned to play the piano because my big brothers played. And how cool was that?) You have to listen to classics, starting with the fun stuff like Brahms' Hungarian Dances, or Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue (which they will recognize from Fantasia 2000), or Scott Joplin rags, or Vince Guaraldi's Charlie Brown music (which is actually jazz, not classical), or things they might hear in old, old cartoons. (I was pretty thrilled at age 14 to learn a Chopin Prelude that I had once heard in a Casper, the Friendly Ghost cartoon.)

So when I was little my mom had a big, console stereo in the living room, and as soon as I learned how to work the thing, I used it. I had kid records that I listened to; later I found a set called The Sensational 60's (from Guantanamera to Turn, Turn, Turn). Soon I discovered the soundtracks for The Sound of Music, and Fiddler on the Roof, and I probably drove my family crazy listening to them over and over again. Then it was 101 Strings with  movements of symphonies, Tchaikovsky's ballet music, Strauss waltzes, Chopin, Liszt, Mendelssohn... I started "sneaking" out my mom's collection of Beethoven—she had a set of all of his works—and I listened to his symphonies, his piano sonatas, and other works for piano. Over and over again. And I learned to play a lot of those piano pieces. (Like Schroeder, I loved  Beethoven.)  Eventually I got my own record-player to use in my room (smart mom!) and I kept listening, checking out soundtracks, ballet music, etc. from the library. When I started driving I discovered the classical music station...

So, yeah. Telling your child to practice the piano over and over again might help (or might just make them annoyed with you); that's part of being a dedicated piano parent. But keeping the music going in the house (and now with the benefit of youtube so they can watch, too!) ...I believe that keeping the music playing will help more than all the nagging either of you can tolerate.

Two things will happen: 1. The kids will hear things they like and want to learn (especially if they have a friend or family member they want to emulate, but even if they only listen to recordings—going to concerts or recitals would be good too.) 2. By hearing this music over and over again (and if they like it you know they'll play it over and over again), they'll be able to predict how to play a piece—what will happen next—because classical music follows definite rules, and your ear will pick up on it. This makes reading the music easier, even if it's a long, hairy piece they've never heard before. And when you buy a piece of sheet music that you've listened to and loved, and then read it while you're listening... All kinds of connections are made! You hear things that you didn't hear before... It's very cool.

Now, this is how I know Kim is dedicated: she prefers a quiet house, but will try playing the music if it could help. If you feel this way you can do like my mom and get your kids their own cd-players, ipods, or whatever. But have the good music available—Lady Gaga or Justin Bieber probably won't do the trick—at least not on their own (remember the Sensational 60's was a part of it all for me). Anyway, when you think about it, you really can't have both a pianist and a quiet house (because if they love it they'll never stop)—but it can become a nice-sounding house. I can't guarantee you'll get a great pianist, but your kids will love music. And, by letting the music play, who knows, you might learn to love it too!

As for the second part, here's my theory of music theory: Skip it. At least at first. When I first started piano lessons, at age six or eight or something, my teacher insisted on my doing the written homework. All it did was frustrate me; I didn't understand what they were trying to teach me, it was boring, and my teacher lectured me every week for not having done it. Not very inspiring.

save it for the big kids

Really, even learning the names of the notes is unnecessary for the students; they only need to know which symbol on the staff matches which key on the keyboard. (Note names are for the teachers' benefit, I'm pretty sure. "Johnny, that's a G.") Sure, they need to know how to count out the different notes, and that  f  is for forte, which means loud, and  p is for piano, which means soft, and stuff like that. That is pretty important, but it's easy to point it out and learn it on a piece-by-piece basis. They'll get that. But don't shove music theory down their throats. Ick!

When I was ten or eleven I was still in the B book that I'd been in for two or three years. What I really wanted to learn was The Entertainer by Scott Joplin because my brother Gregory played it and it was the coolest song ever. But here I was stuck on this little music box song for weeks and weeks, and I just wasn't getting it or passing it off. My teacher didn't know how to help me. Finally she asked if I just wanted to move on, and I told her that I wanted to play the music my brother played (it was Mark this time—Solfeggietto by CPE Bach). She asked me to show her the music when I came the next week. When she saw it she said, "That's pretty advanced. Do you think you can do it?" And of course I did. And I was right. And I never played the B book again. And nobody tried to make me do written theory again. For some reason, teachers must presume that if you can play big classical pieces, then you must know the theory. Wrong! Or is that right?

I never learned written musical theory until I took AP Music as a senior in high school. But guess what? I totally understood it when it was taught to me. All those years of playing the music taught me the theory without the all the pain; I learned it without it being force-fed to me. When I knew how to play, I only had to be told/shown once to understand how major and minor scales worked, chord inversions, etc. Whaddaya know?

Well, this has been a big, long ramble. You can take it (or leave it) for what it's worth.