Thirty Days Has September

Several years back, I had the privilege of participating in a series of master sessions with Orff Schulwerk stalwart Jane Frazee at the AOSA national conference.  Aside from the privilege of learning from one of the true masters of the Schulwerk, I also found myself as a student peer to several of the teachers who had taught me in my Orff levels coursework.  It was both overwhelming and exhilarating.

Beyond the specific activities we learned and the group work we created in the moment, what I remember most are a few sage words of wisdom from Ms. Frazee.  In addition to pieces from the Music for Children volumes and folk material from different cultures, she advised us to plan a curriculum that included time tested rhymes, prose and adages.  One that stood out to me as a musical possibility is the rhyme I learned as a child to remember the number of days in each month:

Thirty days has September, April, June and November.

February has twenty-eight alone.  All the rest have thirty-one.

Say for leap year; 

That's the time February's days are twenty-nine.

I have used this rhyme as the basis of a rhythm and body percussion lesson with my older students (4th and 5th grades).  At first, I teach them a simple body percussion piece by rote.  After learning the short example, I guide students to talk with a partner about how it might be written down.  After a few minutes, we regroup and students answers.  And, in an age of social media and portable technology, I am thankful that they can still find so many possibilities.  The body percussion could be written with:  music notes, words, letter abbreviations, numbers, colors, drawings, shapes, Morse code, etc.  Sometimes, I have to set a limit or their answers will eat up too much class time.  Finally, I focus them back to the answer of color and present the following visual:

I give them time to learn the body percussion of the rhyme,then we perform it together.  After they are pretty comfortable with the rhyme and body percussion, I followup the color coded version with its music notation:

Now, this is all fine and good and could probably stop there.  But, having been immersed in a body percussion piece about months for a class period or two, my students are ready to take it to another level.  The rhyme will have more meaning to them students if they have a personal connection to it.  So, to that end, I extend the lesson one more step by having students work in groups to create body percussion pieces based on the rhythms of their birthdays.  Suddenly, January 16th is not just a day on the calendar, it is a rhythm (s=s=s=s e-e) that has many musical possibilities.  This past week I witnessed my students' group work and, as always, was blown away by what they created together.  And it all came from a rhyme I learned when i was a child.

In defense of Real Music Making

Has it really been over a year since I posted anything?  Wow!  Let's just say, I've thought about it - for a really long time - but got a bit busy.  I'm not one of those truly dedicated bloggers who post something every week or day, but when I do you can be assured that I have put a lot of thought into what I'm saying and, like I said, this one has been brewing for a long time.

A couple of years ago, I was chatting with a couple of colleagues and the topic of sound systems and such came up.  I casually commented that all I really used was a microphone to address the audience at performances or for the occasional soloist.  One of the other music teachers looked at me incredulously and asked, "Well, don't you need a sound system and monitors?"  I replied by saying that I did not use recorded music in my performances and only use recordings on occasion for movement activities in class.  She had gotten so used to the default music program that so many teachers cling to - pop-style "kidsongs" with lush accompaniment tracks an no lasting value - that I thought her eyes might pop out of her head.  She then asked, "Well, what do you DO?"  In a matter of fact tone, I explained that I played the piano and ukulele and had the students themselves play instrumental accompaniments they had learned in class.  She just couldn't seem to wrap her head around it.  I might as well have been speaking another language.  And, in a way, I was.

I am an Orff specialist.  I take great pride in saying that.  I worked very hard to be able to say that.  And I work very hard every day to make sure I can keep on calling myself one.  It would be easier to fall back on packaged musicals, prepared lessons, accompaniment tracks that don't change with the needs and whims of students aged 5-11, overuse of technology and videos, videos videos.  But then I would be teaching my students, and myself, to be dependent on tools in order to make music rather than nurturing the musician that lurks inside of them.  They would become the family in that AT&T ad who freaks out when the internet is out and has no idea of what to do without it.  It makes me want to scream at the TV, "Go outside and play!  Do a crossword puzzle!  Sing a song!  Draw a picture!  Write a story!  DO SOMETHING!"  Yeah, sure I might catch the occasional eyeroll or bored look from one of my 5th graders for not teaching the latest pop song or using all of the technology that fills the rest of their day.  But when they leave my classroom at the end of the day, even those students say "I can't get that song out of my head!"  And then they have something to do whenever the internet goes out.  Score one for Real Music Making.

Old dog, new tricks.....Part Two

So, I realize that a lot of teachers who read blogs are more interested in the "stuff" than my storytelling.  I never intended this to be that sort of blog (although I used to post a link to my Teachers Pay Teachers store in every post), but occasionally I share some little bit that you might be able to use in your own teaching.

Well, the other day, as I was cleaning out my desk, I came across a printout of an old post I had written for the MENC (now NAfME) forum on November 1st, 2008.  As far as I know, those forums are no longer around, but the advice I shared is still pretty relevant and I offer it again here for anyone interested.

Some Possible Ways to Refresh an Old Textbook Series

1.  Folk songs never go out of style.  Instead of following the textbook lesson, use the folk songs in them as pathways to other musical concepts.  Bring in some simple accompaniment (guitar, ukulele, dulcimer) and some rhythm instruments for the students to create ostinatos with and enjoy a new take on these old classics.

2.  Pentatonic songs lend themseles to basic Orff accompaniment.  Look through the materials for songs that use a pentatonic scale.  These can be simply accompanied using a root-fifth drone and some color parts.

3. Be cautious of the "composed" songs.  Many textbooks offer many songs that teach cross-curricular concepts (math, language arts, etc.).  The notion of curriculum integration is fine, but make sure the material is musical and worthwhile for the children.

4. There are often decent, short biographies of composers in the series that are of interest to students.  you can use the listening examples for expressive movement activities to get the students actively involved in the lesson.

5.  There is also a wealth of poetry and prose in textbooks that can be used in interesting ways.  You can explore rhythm, meter and timbre using poetry.  For example, you can lead students to find the natural rhythm of poetry,then challenge them to create a short speech ostinato that uses a phrase from the poem.  Transfer the ostinato to rhythm instruments and you have an accompaniment for the poem.  More freeform poetry can lead to exploration of instrumental timbres and vocal expression.  Allow student input into sounds that could highlight key words or phrases of a poem.

These are just a few ideas that popped into my head.  Though I do not use a textbook series, I do look to the series that I have in my storage room as a resource.  

Old dog, new tricks....Part One

Thirteen years ago, at the conclusion of my Level One Orff Course, as everyone was saying their goodbyes, my teacher Cak Marshall looked me square in the eye and told me that once I finish all three levels and master course, I should take Level One again somewhere else to get a different perspective.  Well, as it turns out, I didn't even have to wait that long for the different perspective, because the next summer I moved completely across country (central Florida to northern California - pretty much exact opposites in many ways!) and, little did I know when I signed up to take my local Level Two Orff Course at Mills College in Oakland (now the San Francisco International Orff Course) that I would be in for a very different spin on Orff Schulwerk.  

Now before anyone gets offended, let me state upfront that this post is not about which course was better since that's a non-issue.  AOSA has a lengthy apprenticeship program that all teacher educators must go through in order to be approved to teach in a levels course.  For what it's worth, good Orff teaching is good Orff teaching no matter if the focus is world music, the Music for Children volumes, American folk music or whatever else.  The point here is that I was exposed to a different perspective and it had a great effect on me.  I ended up completing my levels and a few master classes in San Francisco and have even presented a few sessions at conferences.  All of this training combined with several years of teaching has given me the confidence to say that I am an Orff specialist.

But, true to the title of this post, I am still learning new tricks.  All the time.  Isn't that what we, as teachers, are supposed to do anyway?  I just love going to workshops and conferences.  Even if I don't look at the notes for a long time afterward, what I learned sticks with me and I remember that song or dance we did enough that I can go to my notes or, sometimes, take the inspiration and do something of my own with it.  To be honest, I go to workshops and conferences for Dave the Musician as much as I do for Dave the Music Teacher.  I just love to play around with really good musicians!

Well, last month I finally had the opportunity to follow through with taking Level One again.  I had been thinking about it, but when I received an email from my fine arts supervisor that the district had professional development funding to pay the fees for my local Orff level training, it was a no-brainer!  And aside from the training, I looked forward to meeting some new friends since just moved to the area two years ago.  Is it possible to gain a third perspective?  Let me tell you, after my latest experience, it is!  And a fourth and a fifth and.....

Other than getting a refresher on the nuts and bolts of Level One Basics (ostinatos, drones/borduns, pentatonic melodies), the best aspect of taking Level One again was seeing/hearing/feeling everything through different eyes.  I found a certain kind of comfort in my knowledge of what was being taught, but relished being a part of my classmates' experience of going through it for the first time.  It felt good to answer questions or offer my perspective or advice when asked.  A few of my classmates asked why I was taking the course if I already knew this stuff and I gave them an answer that Cak (or Doug or Paul or......) would have agreed with:  "There's always something more to learn."

Snow Business

As the year draws to a close and the holidays are behind us, it might be difficult to find musical inspiration for the new year.  Well, for me, sticking with what has stood the test of time is always a good start.  I remember years ago watching the movie White Christmas.  Aside from the title song, the one song I always look forward to is "Snow."  It was probably deemed a "throw-away" song back in its day, but the overlaid harmonies and jazzy swing rhythms have stuck with me, kind of like a good snowfall!  Though I don't get much snowfall where I live, I do like to bring the notion of snow to my students and offer these two bits of Snow Business for you to enjoy!

Snow Business #1
Here is a variation on the song Let Us Chase the Squirrel.  I have changed the title and lyrics to Let Us Pass the Snowball:

This can be a fun warmup activity at the beginning of a lesson:  as students sing the song, they pass a "snowball" (pom pom, bean bag, etc.).  The student holding the snowball at the end of the song then throws the snowball in the air while classmates sing a vocal glissando following the up and down movement of the snowball.  The range and duration of the glissando is, of course, determined by how high the student throws the snowball.  I also add in that if the student drops the snowball (whether by accident or on purpose) then their pitch should follow the snowball all the way down.  Repeat as many times as you wish.

Snow Business #2

I offer here an interpretation of a piece from Music for Children, Volume II, p. 45 #4 Andante by Orff/Keetman (Margaret Murray edition).  I came across this piece many years ago as I was looking for a piece to teach at my Orff Level III practicum.  I ultimately used a different piece, but always had this little gem in the back of my mind.  I ended up writing lyrics for it and slightly changing one of the ostinatos and used it with my 4th and 5th grade chorus for our winter concert a few weeks back.  I hope you enjoy it!

My Special Power is Music

This past week, I was inspired to share and play around with the song/story Abiyoyo by Pete Seeger.  I was first introduced to this story years ago at a summer workshop about music and children's literature.  What a deal that was!  Two days of paid training in an air conditioned space with a packet of books and sample lesson plans, plus time to make and take any manipulatives you might need to supplement the lesson?  Okay!

Since then, Abiyoyo has become an annual favorite of my Kindergarteners, who get to sing along with the title song, playing "air ukulele" and using pointing finger magic wands to help tell the story with me.  But their favorite part is when I put the book away and tell them that they are going to help me do some more magic tricks.  They then spread out throughout the room and as I say the book's magic words - Zoop!  Zoop!  Zoop! - they turn into whatever picture I show them.  After many years of doing this, I am still buoyed by their squeals of delight as they twist and turn their bodies to form the poses.  If we have time, I finish the lesson off with a "magic ball" trick I learned in an Orff master class a few years ago.  It never fails to impress the most skeptical of students, who end up thinking that I really can perform magic.  The true test of a good lesson is when the children ask to do it again, and this one has never failed.

But then, my true special power is MUSIC.  I never really thought of it that way until last week, when I received the following from a 5th grade boy:

"One day, Mr. D was waking up.  Suddenly he saw it was 7:00!  He quickly went out to school in his D-MOBILE.  He flew over to his classroom very quickly.  He was then ready for another boring day at school.

About Mr. D --> Mr. D was a strong handsome music teacher.  He always wore jeans and a polo.  He had short hair and a beard.  But people did not know that he was secretly a super hero."










Powers --> flight, handsomeness, knowledge

      Super practice suit
      Mask
      Awesome skills of instruments in brain
      Handsome
      Utility belt of instruments
      Super D-Mobile







I can only thank Evan for this depiction of my super hero personality and, while it's true that I am handsome and have "awesome skills of instruments in brain," I am a bit envious of the utility belt of instruments and the Super D-Mobile.  And, in reality, my alarm will go off at 5:00 AM tomorrow and I will wake up, head to school and, rather than endure another boring day, I will share my special powers of music and magic (and aren't those the same thing really?) with my amazing students!  Cheers to you all for sharing your special powers to inspire those around you!

The Good, the Not So Good and the Um, Really??

Talent Show.  Depending on your experiences, those two words might conjure up feelings of anxiety, pride, excitement or dread.  Over my seventeen years of teaching elementary general music, I have experienced all of those feelings and more.  Let's take a walk down memory lane:

The Good

Luckily, I have witnessed some very talented young students.  As their music teacher, I do what I can to nurture their budding talents, but there are some things that I just don't have the time or talent to teach.  Take, for example, the 8 year old who played Beethoven's "Fur Elise."  Not just the beginning section, but the whole thing.  Flawlessly.  From memory.  I certainly didn't teach him that.  Or the 10 year old (whose height and maturity made her appear much older) who choreographed her own modern dance complete with standard ballet maneuvers and acrobatics, all very nuanced and musically expressive.  I certainly didn't teach her that.  In fact, many of the Good talent show participants had the advantage of private lessons and dance classes.  And I have marveled at their talents.  But the ones that stand out are the ones who didn't have those advantages and still showcased wonderful talents that they had honed themselves.

I remember a curious 5th grader who taught himself how to play the ocarina.  By itself, that is an accomplishment.  But he didn't stop there.  Once he had figured out the ocarina, he taught himself how to play the melody of a popular song of the day.  Pretty impressive.  But he didn't stop there.  He asked a girl in his class if she would like to dance to the song while he played.  So she made up a lovely dance to go along with it.  And they performed together and I got chills.  On the opposite end of the spectrum, but just as satisfying, were the two boys who got together and did a comedy act that actually made me laugh out loud.  I still remember one boy explaining the "ancient art of phrenology" (studying the bumps on your head) as he bonked his friend's head and then did a pretend "reading" of the resulting bumps.  Ha!  Ah yes, when children are left to their own devices, their creativity tends to shine through.

The Not So Good

But sometimes, children left to their own devices just aren't ready to perform in front of others.  As a teacher, these are the ones who crush me.  I really want them to do well.  I really want to help them.  But when 70  students are trying out for a one hour talent show, not everyone can be in it and a line has to be drawn.  Sorry cute little girl, but lip syncing (in my humble opinion) is not really a talent worthy of the stage.  Especially when you forget to move your lips half of the time.  And just stand there.  Maybe next year we can work on actually singing.  I've heard you sing in music class.  You can do it!  And boys, that rap you made up about McDonald's is just fine, but your rhythm was all over the place and you forgot the words.  Twice.  Keep on practicing and try again next year. 

And the, um, Really?

And then there are those memorable talents that, for one reason or another, despite their best efforts, fell into a category of their own.  Needless to say, most of these didn't make it to the stage (although there are a couple that did and I take absolutely no responsibility for those decisions - more on that later) and for good, sometimes laughable, reason.  Now, don't think me unkind, but some of these delusions of grandeur still make me chuckle.  I'm sure these students have gotten over it and would laugh too, especially considering of they are, by now, 20-something men and women. 

Ah, yes.  My first Talent Show as a teacher was some fifteen years ago.  The veteran music teacher I worked with schooled me in how to put the whole thing together, including having other teachers help with the judging so we wouldn't have to bear sole responsibility for disappointing little would-be stars.  It was all very clear, no fuss and, in the end, easy to decide who would be in the actual show.  But when someone else was running the show, the results sometimes went a bit awry.

Witness Jimmy the Finger Bender.  At least that is how I will forever remember him.  I take no responsibility for allowing him to "perform" in the epic talent show coordinated by a colleague whose thought was, "If they're brave enough to try out, they should be in the show."  Well, sure, maybe, sort of.  So, Jimmy was given permission to bend his thumbs all the way back to his forearms, grossing out the Kindergarteners in the front row, while that music teacher wryly played "Get Back" by the Beatles as background music.  Had I been in charge, I would have told Jimmy that being double jointed, while a curiosity, is not really a talent. 

One year, the PTA of my school decided to host a talent show.  I'm not quite sure how it was all put together, but rather than select the talent, I was asked to be the emcee.  I was happy to do so and stood pleasantly by as one act after the other took the stage after my spirited introductions.  Then the group of three girls took the stage for their dance.  Now, picture this:  three girls dressed in black tights and knee-length dresses, hair pulled back into pony tails, very slick.  Two of the girls are a full head or more taller than the third.  The took their place on stage, centered and slightly toward the back, the smaller girl sandwiched between the others.  They had obviously practiced, right?  Cue the music.  They waited a few beats, then began.  Oh, did I forget to mention that they were wearing tap shoes?  Yes, they were.  They started walking forward.  Click click click click.  Then backward.  Click click click click.  Over and over and over and over.  Click click click click.  But as the routine wore on, they began to get out of sync.  Cl-click.  Ick-click.  Lick-cli-cl.  Cl-lick.  Then came the Big Move:  the group stopped and the two taller girls formed a bridge with their arms.  The smaller girl walked behind them and did a sort of "fall of trust" into their arms.  The two taller girls then flipped the smaller one over and her heels loudly hit the stage:  CLICK CLONK!  It wasn't that graceful but at least no one was hurt.  And then, back to the clickety-clack.  End scene.  This might have been more successful if not for the tap shoes. 

Like I said, I take no responsibility for those acts since I had no hand in selecting them.  If I had, I would have found a way to let them down easy or work with them on their act so it would be performance ready come show time.  But there are others that I did bear witness to and, mercifully, kept from embarrassing themselves in front of an audience. 

I was part of the team of judges that included the other music teacher, one of the PE teachers and the school counselor.  A fourth grade girl was called into the room for her tryout.  We asked her what she was going to do.  She told us that she was going to sing the pledge.  I was a bit confused, since we normally speak the Pledge of Allegiance and sing the Star Spangled Banner, but maybe she was equally confused due to her nerves.  She proceeded to start reciting the Pledge of Allegiance at warp speed, slowing down midway through to bend on one knee to tie her shoe and finish with a flourish, standing up on the word "all."  Thank you.  Next!

By far the most memorable audition featured a group of girls doing a dance.  To give you context, the Back Street Boys were popular then.  And these 5th graders were in love with them.  And watched their videos all the time.  So I'm sure, to them, it seemed natural to do the dance from the video.  Cue the music.  Standing side by side, the girls began their dance which, at first, seemed pretty routine:  lots of interpretive hand motions and mostly step-touch in place.  As the routine wore on, it became clear that four of the five girls had practiced together.  They were fairly well synchronized and knew what they were doing.  But the fifth girl, on the stage left end, had obviously been a last minute add on.  She kept looking over at the girls next to her, copying their moves a split second later and doing her best to keep up.  It was nothing that couldn't be fixed with a little practice.  Then came the big move.  After all of that step-touching, we were to be wowed with a turn-2-3-clap that became a highlight of the dance.  But not for the reason they intended.  Four girls started to move to their right:  Turn-2-3....The fifth girl started to move to her left:  Turn--2-3....and CRASH!  Then three girls continued:  Turn-2-3-clap!  And two girls picked themselves up and tried to get back into the routine.  Meanwhile, stunned and, admittedly amused by this turn of events, all I could do was look down at the paper on my desk, trying to avoid further eye contact with the doomed quintet of dancers.  I felt my face turning red as I tried to stifle the laughter that was building up inside of me.  And then, to make it even more unbearable, the PE teacher leaned over to me and snidely said, "Mr. D., you might miss something."  Teachers are awful!  In that moment, I felt my shoulders bobbing up and down as a small snort escaped my mouth.  We all clapped appreciatively for the girls who, to their credit, finished their routine and knew that all were bets were off. 

Is there a Talent Show in my future?  Probably.  Though I have mixed feelings about them, I understand that students and parents enjoy them so I will probably have little choice in the matter.  All I can do is try my best to nurture my students' talents and remind them that one of the most important aspects of any show is the audience!