The Pen Woman, Fall 2023:
One Studio, 25 Pianos
By Elizabeth Lauer, Music Editor
Teaching is frequently part of the life of a woman who is a creative artist. A poet leads a seminar in discovery of the intricacies of Nikki Giovanni’s works; a painter instructs a life-drawing class; a composer conducts madrigal singers. These group activities are well known and subscribed to by many. In the world of music, group learning is not uncommon for players of single-line instruments, whether strings, winds, brass, or even percussion.
Teaching and arranging chamber music had been my sole experience in group music when a colleague, the justappointed chair of the music department at the University of Bridgeport (UB), Connecticut, asked me to join the allnew faculty. At first not at all sanguine about engaging in college classroom teaching, the decision became, finally: Take that road — an offshoot, a fork. What the experience taught me is applicable to any practicing professional artist who is considering the classroom.
An artist who is seasoned in expressing her thoughts through her medium and who has mastered the subtleties as well as the large gestures of her craft has a storehouse to pass along to students. She has developed skills to deal with neophytes and others, and is always aware of practicalities, as well as being adaptable, thoughtful, and inventive. This means that she has much to give — and will discover new strengths as well — encompassing her activities from the solid, bright core of her art to peripheral reaches of quotidian life.
The UB music faculty counted me as a member for five years, with responsibilities for a variety of subjects (I sometimes referred to myself as the utility infielder) — ear training, solfège, theory, music and the computer, plus individual piano lessons, and one more: group piano. What was that? It was a course that historically came into existence with electric instruments and headphones, making it possible to teach several students at multiple keyboards.
The UB class was a requirement for vocal and instrumental majors, scheduled for four semesters. The initial experience was not encouraging. The room contained about 10 dilapidated electric keyboards. These years-old contraptions emitted a persistent whine, and — several times during the class — they would suddenly erupt, broadcasting from the local rock-and-roll radio station, spewing at an overwhelming volume.
There were four students, all seniors, taking their midsemester final term. They had not learned much of value in the previous three. No information about the class existed, no printed materials whatsoever. This was actually a gift to do what any professional is capable of achieving: assess the needs and experience of the students and figure out the purpose of the class. Develop a program to accomplish that assignment.
Fortunately, the fall semester of Group Piano 1 began with 25 new, full-sized keyboards and stools. Clearly, the approach should be to instruct the class members — about a dozen, the room was full after a few weeks — to be able to read and play a keyboard score reliably, to gain fluency and assurance at the instrument, and to grasp the “how to” of attentive, consistent practice. Learning the language of music was a constant: chords (after all, sounding multiple keys simultaneously is a big feature of keyboard playing) — major, minor, inversions, all keys — plus arpeggios, scales, parsing and playing rhythms. The class learned many short pieces, as varied as possible. The headphones were useful for brief in-class practicing of a task; however, by design, the students spent most of the time listening to each other. They were encouraged, early on, to comment. That activity gradually increased and resulted in their paying closer, more consistent attention, in general and specifically: to listen.
Listen-and-comment became a feature of Group Piano 2. It was designed to keep students engaged while they learned about teaching and became aware, perceptive. I prepared booklets of 25 one-page pieces for a week of athome learning. Then, at each of three sessions (there were two 90-minute classes a week), eight students became teachers and eight were pupils.
After each piece was played and critiqued (the works were chosen during class), I made a brief comment, but mostly encouraged opinions from the listeners. This exercise became enormously popular and was repeated every few weeks. The third time, advice was given to one student just before he assumed his “teacher” position. (He typically was sharply critical of any performance from the get-go.) The suggestion: Say something nice at the outset, even if that meant a compliment to the pupil’s attire. (This was the mid- ‘90s. No one objected to an appreciation of her earrings or his socks.) Thereupon, the “pupil” played the piece. Before the “teacher” could utter a word, 23 Group Piano 2 students intoned, “Say something nice!”