The most pervasive musical element in term of correct interpretation by both composers and conductors was in regard to tempo.  Other commonalities existed across both conductors and composers (notably by Barnes, & Camphouse) including utilization of recordings, becoming familiar with a score through a secondary instrument (piano or voice were mentioned frequently), and that over time our interpretation of a piece may change because of new perspectives or personal experiences.  It would seem to me that the process by which one learns a score varies widely across known experts in the band world, and is a highly personalized decision based upon your pedagogical training.  Choices of meter, key, and tonal and rhythmic patterns are sufficed to say objective, but in matters of overall general expressive musical elements, tempo seems to be a common focus because of the great variability for which it can possess.  It is interesting to note that a number of conductors and composers both concede that a performance tempo can differ from the ideal (marked tempo in the score), and that the adjusted tempo of the performance can still result in a quality or reputable performance.  In some cases it is a matter of ensemble technique that will prevent an ensemble from being able to achieve the demands printed in the score, but it is obvious in the writings that conductors and composers acknowledge this and are able to recognize when other elements are brought to the best possible quality which contribute to effect interpretation.

Another commonality that seems to exist across many of the composers and conductors is they concede that there is a limit to what musical notation can convey, and at times there are ambiguities that may not make sense during score study.  Hopefully these moments of questions and uncertainties can be answered by the director as he looks at the work he is studying, compares it with other known pieces by the same composer, and compares the current piece against stylistic practices of the time or pieces of similar musical structure.  I believe it is worth noting that here that this process the conductor is going through for just one piece of music is not so far removed from the idea of comprehensive musicianship whereby the musician immerses him/herself in studying music from multiple perspective, each perspective contributing to a greater understanding of a larger picture. Andrew Boysen Jr.’s (Camphouse, 2007, p. 11) comments perhaps summarize the idea best as he asserts that the notation in the score should support the conductor’s musical decisions.  It follows that the performance is the very best attempt by an ensemble and conductor to represent what they believe to be the composer’s intent.

Flexibility as it relates to letting the music “live in a certain place” as Giroux states (Camphouse, 2004, p. 80), gathering insight from the ensemble not previously considered as Kirchoff suggests (Williamson, 2008, p.53), and, as Hunsberger observes, understanding each ensemble has an “optimum tempo” (Williamson, 2008, p.37), also seems to an important aspect of interpretation.  The modern conductor must have in his arsenal of abilities an understanding to be flexible as his perspective may change while working on a piece with his own students, but find a new perspective when asked to conduct the group of a colleague or an honor ensemble.  Getting back to the idea of tempo, both the music and the ensemble must find the tempo at where they can ideally perform.  I believe this is the reason why at times pieces are adored by one ensemble, and despised by a group 12 miles away – optimum performance tempo of the music and the ensemble do not converge.  Part of this problem may be related to that, but it might also have to do with directors being afraid to vary from the printed score even when it might be more educationally sound to do so (emphasis added, duplicity implied).  A discussion for another day – but this isn’t math or science with one right answer – and some directors are chasing a trophy  on the wall and it is easier to play it safe.  While McBeth and Giroux go as far to say that composers are sometimes indicating the wrong metronome markings they include on a score, Camphouse and McBeth agree with Jack Stamp that composers are not always the best interpreter of their own work.  James Barnes recounts a story about Verdi and Toscanini that is a reminder that one’s inner musician is critical for a conductor’s interpretation that is truly “in the spirit” of the composer’s intent.  Jack Stamp (Miles, 1998) discovered during his college experience that although Stravinksy was held in high regard compositionally, others did not feel he was the best interpreter of his own work!

The final aspect of interpretation that seems to be a shared concern of importance between composer and conductor is that of feeling, emotion, and passion.  To a degree, many of the composers explicitly mention important aspects of feeling, expression, and emotion in the interpretation of their work.  No matter what reason a composer decides to put “pen to paper”, their works are a product of their experiences, beliefs, surroundings, and creative ideas – and those experiences are at times attached to significant feelings, emotions, or expressions.  As stated by my friend and colleague Dr. Joseph M. Pisano, a composition conveys a concrete thought such as the liberation one’s country, an emotional thought such as the liberation of one’s heart, or a spiritual thought such as the liberation of one’s soul.  The composer is literally molding a conceived idea or a feeling into a sonic musical existence.  The passion of music becomes interpreted correctly when the conductor understands and enjoys the music, and is able to get the students in the ensemble to “reproduce those feelings” as Hilliard states (Camphouse, 2007).  Sam Hazo’s experience with Paul Thornton’s band demonstrates the importance of connecting the music to the lives of the students.  Paula instructed her students to write a meaningful life experience to the sound of the music in the margins of their music – it created in every student a way to connect their life stories to the music in which they were engaged in performing.  I would be interested in knowing just how many of those little anecdotes written by her students were emotionally charged or connected.  Robert Sheldon states that in order to convey passion (emphasis mine), a conductor must possess technical means and the wherewithal and self-confidence to do and say whatever is necessary to get the ensemble to respond (Camphouse, 2002). Frank Ticheli shares that the conductor must find meaning in the work, and believe in it passionately (emphasis mine) (Camphouse, 2002).  When asked about it, Mark Camphouse’s opinion is that “Passion (emphasis mine) comes from believing in the music long before a conductor ever steps on the podium…If a conductor has passion for the art of music and for playing great literature, his performance will have passion…” (Brown, 2001, p. 13).

Many conductors have written about helping the ensemble recreate or realize the interpretation of the composer’s intent, and rarely do they discuss a performance that was devoid of feeling, emotion, or passion if it was achieved.  Can we forgive a less then perfect performance that lacks emotional expression? My feeling is that many would agree yes.  I am not saying technical accuracy and precision may be tossed out – they are part of our responsibilities as educators to ensure that students have mastered.  But we might also be aware that there is another side that is beneficial for the student to experience, and that through our own authentic interpretation we may be able to unlock the emotion, passion, and feeling in music for the benefit of our students (Help them find the love!).  As Craig Kirchoff (Williamson, 2008, p. 54) states so eloquently, “Without such passion, there is no communication…and not even any real music.”

Brown, J. S. (2001). Mark Camphouse creates music with the passion of a performer. The Instrumentalist, 56 (6), 12-15.

Camphouse, M. (Ed.). (2002). Composers on composing for band (Vol. 1).  Chicago: GIA Publications.

Camphouse, M. (Ed.). (2004). Composers on composing for band (Vol. 2).  Chicago: GIA Publications.

Camphouse, M. (Ed.). (2007). Composers on composing for band (Vol. 3).  Chicago: GIA Publications.

McBeth, F. W. (1992). Interpretation: Unlocking the drama in music. The Instrumentalist, 47 (5), 14-18.

Miles, R. (1998). Teaching music through performance in band (Vol. 2). Chicago: GIA Publications.

Williamson, J. E. (2008). Rehearsing the band. Galesville, MD: Meredith Music Publications

Dr. Stephen Gage is one of my favorite people on God’s green earth.  It usually takes about 5 minutes of talking with him to feel better about life, faith, and music.  His status on Facebook was the impetus and with his permission I will share it here:
“I am beginning to worry that in our quest to ‘get it right’ that we forget why we became musicians, that we lose sight of what is really important, and that we compromise what we know down deep in our musical souls. When all of these things are in an alignment, EVERYONE grows and everyone falls more in love with music!”

Love is a pretty important word in that last sentence.  But to get all Tina Turner on you for a second “What’s love got to do with it?”  Is love a second-hand emotion?  For the musician – absolutely not.  I am sure there are physicists that love calculus, but it is hard to see that.  Football players love to play football – thus the over-extended celebrations when they score a touchdown.  But a football player cannot play forever – and even from the booth or the sideline a retired player will never get that degree of love back again.  But musicians have the opportunity to extend their love over a lifetime, and whether it is conductor of community band, a local rock group, or a church organist they have the opportunity to keep making music.  Whether its covers of the Beatles, Corialan Overture by Beethoven, or hymns by Martin Luther, the love affair never has to stop and it is a relationship they never have to leave.

But we as educators, where is our love?  Where is our love for our students in which we profess to “have the best interests”?  Do they see our love and passion for this art that we teach? Do we model it? Do we help them build their own loving relationship with music? It saddens me when I meet a student teacher from another discipline in the building in which I teach, and they tell me “Oh, I used to be in music in high school…”.   I will ask them why they stopped, and usually the answer often turns into a rehearsal schedule and expectation level for competition that pursued a trophy on the wall instead of instilling a song in their heart.  Competition can be healthy – but if it is destroying student’s love of music, I am not sure that in the grand scheme of life it is appropriate or worth it.

How many of our students will play that final concert their senior year, and never consider how they can continue playing their instrument later in life? Too many.  How many of us as educators consider ways in which we can offer them avenues to pursue to keep playing? Too few.  Do we love teaching music? Do we share our love of music with students?  If the answer to those two questions is yes, why don’t we think about ways in which this future music-lover can engage with music? Unlike the song by Meatloaf folks, two out of three ain’t good enough.  I have already extolled on the possibilities of one avenue we can pursue, and I encourage you to read it about in my post entitled “Small Ensembles and the Chamber of Doom?”.

I would like to share a comment by Brian Balmages in response to Dr. Gage’s response that I think is particularly appropriate when we consider our role as an educator: “I think the biggest problem is not the music itself – it’s the passion for music. When everyone started playing an instrument, they did so because they were excited about it …just a pure love and excitement for music itself. We need to instill that same passion for music in our youth. I try to do that every time I guest conduct. Passing on our passion is a sure way to keep music alive. Many of our students will not go on to be music majors or educators – but some of them will be community leaders, politicians, school board superintendents, etc. They can make as much a difference from the outside as we can from the inside. I love that we all discuss the irrelevance of getting a “1″ at festival, but the problem is deeper than that – we need to instill passion. Absolute love for music. Things like that do not go away as you get older.”

Bravo, Brian! Another great quote about music, its importance, and the passion that it brings out was shared with me by Francis McBeth at Midwest my Senior year of College: “Don’t forget why you became a musician.  It was because of a love affair with sound.  It was not a love affair with organization, techniques, or competition, no matter how commendable these efforts may be.  A musical experience has no substitute; and when it is experienced by the band, the conductor and the audience, it is desired above all else.”

The benefits of instilling passion and love of music are now coming to the forefront as an important role for which the music education profession must take seriously.  It is a passion and love of music we must instill – not in the sense of puppy-dog utopia love – but a passion to engage with all kinds of music and let the music work on us and we work on the music to transport us to a different emotional and mental state. In an article about brain research as it relates to emotion, Bennett Reimer (2004) wrote that music can designate any easily identifiable emotions, and though drawn out through its context, can make something musical out of any and all various images, stories or events.  Where else would people choose of their own free will to engage with sad music not to feel sad, but to move beyond sadness to where the music takes them?  As the music unfolds, feelings and emotions unfold that powerfully and precisely reveal the conscious condition achieved by the human brain and body (Reimer, 2004).  Reimer calls upon music educators to be nurturers of consciousness.  Music has a boundless capacity to expand the intricacies, depths, breadths, and range of conscious awareness made available to our minds and bodies through a felt, sonic experience.  Our true self begins to form and take shape as our experiences with music accumulate.

I was surprised to find an article by David Elliot (2005) written about the same time that takes a similar stance to Reimer in relation to the emotional education of students.  It is Elliot’s view that “musical understanding” is often equated to reading music notation, knowing musical facts and concepts, and how to perform (I am sure he would they “music”…) by some parents, students, music teachers, and music education professors.   Elliot questions how often are teachers and students engaged in “expressional” musical meanings, and the role of such meanings in their enjoyment of music.

Elliot cites part of his own philosophy of music education when he states that musical expressions of emotion occur within specific musical-cultural contexts. For the listener to recognize a musical pattern as expressive of an emotion, that listener must understand the vocal customs or gesture customs that musical pattern seeks to resemble.  The implication for music educators then, according to Elliot, is to provide opportunities for students to listen, reflect and interpret works that are clear examples of emotion in music, and perform and create works that express emotion.  Furthermore, educators need to be musical role models by providing regular demonstrations of expressive music making, and use emotional language and emotional analogies so that students attend to the expressive features of a work.

Finally, the last piece of the puzzle for me came from an article that appeared in the NBA Journal by David Whitwell (2009). Whitwell discusses that language is an important form of communication, but anyone who has tried to write a love letter knows it is quite inferior in the realm of expressive emotions (Thank God for Hallmark!).  Language expresses ideas, while music expresses feelings, and expressing an emotion or feeling has something to do with becoming conscious of it.

Whitwell continues that music offers the listener the opportunity to discover his experiential right hemisphere of the brain, to discover individual emotional identity, and to contemplate his reaction to that discovery.  The student must be given opportunity to hear the emotion in the music, and through this process it causes him to become aware of his emotions.  As long as the music is authentic, the listener cannot fail to perceive the generalized form of the emotion.  So music education needs to be in the school where a child becomes aware of it, begins to explore and understand, and finds a means of expressing his own personal emotional being.

Any composer who wants his music to communicate joy can do exactly that – music in other words, is a form of communication that transmits emotion, and speaks about emotion in precise ways.  Musicians use this language in order to communicate emotions and qualities to others who recognize the language.  Whitwell contends that the great artist looks for the emotional content in music, and not the abstracted data elements, the “grammar” of music.

It is more than just love.  Music has a fundamental ability to communicate emotion.  We, as a profession of music educators, have an oath to present this dimension of music to our students as passionately as we contend that trombones should play B natural in 4^th position!  It is easy to get ground down by the bureaucracy of that is forced upon us by mindless state departments and politicians (see also Ed Rendell) who think that the only way to show a school is succeeding is to publish their standardized test scores in the local fish-wrap.  Despite their worst efforts, music and music educators continue to rise up and confront these problems.  We keep many different musical styles and traditions alive in the public schools because of knowledge and abilities as educators.  I contend that we make them attractive to students because of our passion for them.  Remember to take your scores, baton, metronome, and tuner to the podium at your next rehearsal – but don’t forget the love.  You and your students need it!

We are the music makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams;—
World-losers and world-forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams:
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world for ever, it seems.

-          Arthur William Edgar O’Shaugnhessy, Ode from his book Music and Moonlight (1874)

Elliot, D. J. (2005). Musical understanding, musical works, and emotional expression: Implications for education. Educational Philosophy and Theory, 37 (1), 93-103.

Reimer, B. (2004). New brain research on emotion and feeling: Dramatic implications for music education. Arts Education Policy Review, 106 (2), 21-27.

Whitwell, D. (2009). Music education of the future: Two paramount new purposes. NBA Journal, 50 (2), 43-60.