Klarinet Archive - Posting 000335.txt from 1995/06

From: Neil Leupold <Neil_Leupold@-----.COM>
Subj: A meeting of minds
Date: Fri, 16 Jun 1995 04:42:25 -0400

ntouch Memo 06/15/95
Subject:A meeting of minds 11:32 PM
We have now read statements by both Dan Leeson & Clark Fobes, in response to
postings by Nichelle Crocker and myself on the subject of effective spoken
communication as a component of clarinet pedagogy (I'll be giving a lecture on
alliteration later if you like). Dan leans heavily (no pun intended) toward
the precision of well-defined concepts and ideas, whereas Clark makes an
argument more strongly in favor of subordinating such exactness and
accurate-mindedness to an individual's seemingly nebulous ability to assimilate
concepts intuitively. After digesting Dan's and Clark's cogent cogitations (oh
man, I'm stuck!), the real issue seems to be one of (here's that word again)
epistemology. It's the study of knowledge. Loosely stated: How do we learn?
But no issue is ever as simple as that (that's a facetious comment, mind you;
the verdict of neuroscience is still out on this one). There is, of course,
even more to it - otherwise this dialectic on specificity versus intuition
would instantly disappear in a puff of logic. In addition to the question of
how human beings "learn" is the question of individual _philosophy_. Aye,
there's the rub.

First, how we learn. I think that perhaps no two people absorb information in
exactly the same manner (I'll use myself as an example, and you may compare or
analogize as you see fit). Speaking only for myself, I know that how I learn
is greatly influenced by my life experience and how I've been conditioned to
understand reality from the days of my infancy. I've grown into the type of
person who is very visual in nature, wherein mental images are predominantly
the core of my comprehensive mechanism when I endeavor to acquire new skills
(this is not necessarily a good thing!). This would seem to act in support of
Dan's assertion: "...if we use imprecise terminology in describing [it] (how to
play the clarinet being part of this 'it'), the combination of emotionality and
imprecision makes what we do untransmittable to anyone." In order for me to
form helpful mental images and understand what constitutes the proper physical
signals that I'm supposed to be looking for as I develop my skills, my teacher
needs to be able to instruct me with appreciable clarity and conviction, lest I
get the wrong idea and mistakenly develop an incorrect habit or technique.
>From this standpoint, I DEMAND perspicuity from my mentor, otherwise (s)he
truly is useless to me, regardless of the degree of my own mental acuity.

Clark suggests, "that, along with the presentation of ideas, anyone who is
trying to learn a physical task like playing the clarinet needs a physical
model." This dovetails nicely for me, because after I've assimilated my
teacher's instructions, it is incumbent upon me at that point to
attempt their execution. This _is_ essentially an intuitive act, for no matter
how intricately I construct my teacher's words and direction in my mind, there
is no guarantee that my initial attempts at realizing his/her instruction will
be successful. I have to "feel it out" first. And as my overall facility
develops, my ability to approximate my teacher's intent becomes progressively
more acute - until, ultimately, I am able to respond immediately with precisely
the result the instructor had in mind - on the very first try. Again, though,
this is subject to how well the instructive information has been conveyed.
It's not quite the same as riding a bike, I feel. Playing the clarinet is a
dramatically more cerebral feat of mental, physical, psychological, and
emotional components (you can abstain from bike-riding for ten years, have a
really bad day, and still ride like a pro on a moment's notice).

I suggested in my previous posting, "...it depends very much upon the
characteristics of both the teacher and the student. A unique approach is
necessary for each student who walks in the door." After a period of time, the
relationship between teacher and student (hopefully) approaches synergy. The
student develops a broad understanding of the teacher's basic pedagogical
devices, in much the same way that the teacher comes to understand all of the
student's strengths and weaknesses as a performer. I venture to say that the
dynamics of this relationship have a profound impact upon the teacher's ability
to communicate, as well as the student's ability to comprehend. Depending on
just how "in tune" the two people are with each other, a greater or lesser
degree of clarity on the teacher's part is necessary, directly in proportion to
the student's perspicacity. It is very much a juggling act, because the levels
of these components may vary widely from one lesson to the next. Determining
how a student learns is a slippery-slope pursuit, which is why I tend to take
the middle road when considering which plays a more substantial role between
conscious perception & execution -versus- intuitive realization.

Now we get into philosophy. I stated in my previous posting, "As in all
things, I believe that striking a balance between the art's fundamental
components is the most desirable methodology, and that is how I approach it."
Clark's right, I'm a pretty analytical guy. It's just part of my nature,
because breaking things (concepts, processes, etc.) down to their basic level
as a means of understanding them makes them simpler - such that when I step
back and view from a global perspective, I get the benefit of the sum AND its
parts. For me, this is the only pure way to fully comprehend and enjoy a
project, be it one of academia or artistic expression. Simplicity is the food
of my life because living is complicated enough all by itself. While I
continue to regain my skills as a clarinetist, as an expressor of myself
through the music, I am employing well-defined concepts and rules in TANDEM
with visceral, instinctive exploration. The teacher's ability to funnel
his/her knowledge into my cerebellum is a vital means to the end and has an
effect on how I digest the information. Ultimately, though, his/her words must
be _converted_ into terms which makes sense to ME, after which (and ONLY after
which) I may attempt to apply them. THAT process, the interpretation and
application, is intuitive. It's not something that can be learned, but is an
ability with which we are born. As Nichelle said, "Some musicians seem to rely
on instinct and natural ability fairly heavily." There is probably an equal
number of musicians who go "strictly by the book". Tendency in one direction
or another is not a random occurrence for me. I recognize the broader benefit
to be had from using both my head _and_ my heart, sometimes switching from one
to the other as the situation warrants, sometimes using each in equal amounts
simultaneously. "So depending upon the circumstances of my life at any given
time, I must balance my instinctive approach with an academic one in order to
"cover my bases", as it were."

Again, how do others of you approach this dynamic?

- Neil