This is just a little, rewarding story from the other day. I went to go see the last client I was going to see yesterday at a nursing home in a small Iowa town. This client has a form of dementia as a hospice diagnosis. She is oriented only to her name and starting to become more and more lethargic. She enjoys pushing herself around the halls in her wheelchair and has maintained a strong faith system through attending the facility worship services. I usually sing hymns with her and have grown fairly used to her singing along on most of the well-known hymns, like "Amazing Grace", "In the Garden", and "The Old Rugged Cross." She doesn't remember all the words, but always the majority of the first verse. When she isn't singing, she has a hard time putting six words together into a coherent order.
Yesterday, when I came for a visit, her daughter was there. I had never met this daughter and learned that she lived about 3 hours away. The daughter only visits every few months, so I was quite excited that he happened to be there. She, however, did not seem to be excited about visiting her mother. I suppose I can empathize. I understand what it's like to visit someone regularly, investing a lot of time and energy into their lives, only to have them ask you the same questions over and over because they don't remember you or what you told them earlier. The daughter seemed to have run out of energy, run out of things to talk about, or was just about to justify leaving. When I entered the room, I introduced myself and what I did and asked if she would stick around for a music therapy session, and she agreed.
From the very first song, my client sang with all the gusto she could muster. She even made hand motions and gestures that reflected the words she was singing. She wasn't waiting for me to start the words for her and, in fact, I had a hard time keeping up with her tempo. Eventually, I just plucked the chords on the downbeat of each measure. I've never heard "Amazing Grace" sung to intensely and deliberately as the well-known hymn was turned into a waltz tempo hymn, and I hung on to my client's every word. She proved this was no fluke, as she did the same for all the songs in the session. Not just the first verse, but sometimes the second, third, and even fourth verse were sung out. I can't help but feel that her session was a way of telling her daughter, "I'm still here. I'm still me. Don't worry about me. I remember you!" After the session, the daughter appeared to be mentally trying to wrap her head around the "performance" she had just witnessed. She looked on the verge of tearing up, but stopped herself and said to me, "I'm so glad I saw this!"
She didn't seem interested in continuing the conversation in a deep fashion and, instead, exchanged pleasant little comments about the power of music and faith. I left the room and went to do my charting and, as I left and walked by the client's room, I heard the client's daughter engaging her mother in conversation about music and faith. I can't be entirely sure about a lot of aspects this story and probably can't take full credit in the experience, but I do know one thing. I know that the daughter meant it when she said, "I'm so glad I saw this!" I'm glad I could give her mother back to her for a short time.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
...silence...
Wow. It's been far too long since I've posted, and I apologize for that. My life has been filled with family camps and day trips, so I haven't really had a chance to do this for a few weeks. Needless to say, I haven't been hearing a lot of silence lately. This will be the last topic in my little series of how I use music therapy for myself.
"What does silence have to do with music therapy?" you might ask. To be honest, I think it might be one of the most important things about music therapy. Have you ever talked with someone who never lets any space get into the conversation? Or been forced to listen to the radio for hours on end without any respite or change in programming? Or gotten home from a hard day at work or school and just wanted to sit and remember what it feels like to have quiet? If you've answered yes to any of these (and I believe most people will have said yes), then you know how relaxing and centering silence can be. Even in regards to music, silence can be important. Claude Debussy is quoted saying, "Music is the space between the notes." Even Miles Davis is credited for saying, "Don't play what's there, play what's not there."
Working in hospice, I think silence may be even more important. Regardless of cognitive functioning or aphasia that can be found in some clients, many of my clients seem to enjoy my visits because I leave space. Space to think. Space to reflect. Space to breathe. Space to be. Just be yourself without any extra noise cluttering up your mind, which we often do. Think you don't have too much clutter noise? Try turning off all gadgets you have around you right now, like your TV, computer speakers, radio, even the air conditioning. Try to just sit there and see how you feel. Think about what you did that day. Focus on your breathing. Notice all the extra sounds that living provides, like traffic noise. I know that every time I do this, I'm amazed at how noisy I let my life become.
I know there have been studies that have linked excess noise with stress. Stress has been linked to a plethora of different maladies. It makes sense, therefore, to make steps to reduce noise and increase silence in your life. As a music therapist, I need to be mindful of this. People often turn off their TVs when I get there, which many of them haven't done all day. As long as the TV is off, then, I can take some time to allow space within the music therapy session where there is no sound. Where to leave the sound is personal and could be a different post entirely, so I won't go into that aspect this time. The important thing is that silence is present and that you and the client are present in the silence. Be aware of the lack of noise and how you feel when it's happening. I'm betting there isn't a person out there who wouldn't benefit from a little silence now and then.
I hope this little series gives you ideas of how to use music to help yourself. This is by no means an exhaustive list, but just the ones I use most often. What would you add to this list if you were making it?
"What does silence have to do with music therapy?" you might ask. To be honest, I think it might be one of the most important things about music therapy. Have you ever talked with someone who never lets any space get into the conversation? Or been forced to listen to the radio for hours on end without any respite or change in programming? Or gotten home from a hard day at work or school and just wanted to sit and remember what it feels like to have quiet? If you've answered yes to any of these (and I believe most people will have said yes), then you know how relaxing and centering silence can be. Even in regards to music, silence can be important. Claude Debussy is quoted saying, "Music is the space between the notes." Even Miles Davis is credited for saying, "Don't play what's there, play what's not there."
Working in hospice, I think silence may be even more important. Regardless of cognitive functioning or aphasia that can be found in some clients, many of my clients seem to enjoy my visits because I leave space. Space to think. Space to reflect. Space to breathe. Space to be. Just be yourself without any extra noise cluttering up your mind, which we often do. Think you don't have too much clutter noise? Try turning off all gadgets you have around you right now, like your TV, computer speakers, radio, even the air conditioning. Try to just sit there and see how you feel. Think about what you did that day. Focus on your breathing. Notice all the extra sounds that living provides, like traffic noise. I know that every time I do this, I'm amazed at how noisy I let my life become.
I know there have been studies that have linked excess noise with stress. Stress has been linked to a plethora of different maladies. It makes sense, therefore, to make steps to reduce noise and increase silence in your life. As a music therapist, I need to be mindful of this. People often turn off their TVs when I get there, which many of them haven't done all day. As long as the TV is off, then, I can take some time to allow space within the music therapy session where there is no sound. Where to leave the sound is personal and could be a different post entirely, so I won't go into that aspect this time. The important thing is that silence is present and that you and the client are present in the silence. Be aware of the lack of noise and how you feel when it's happening. I'm betting there isn't a person out there who wouldn't benefit from a little silence now and then.
I hope this little series gives you ideas of how to use music to help yourself. This is by no means an exhaustive list, but just the ones I use most often. What would you add to this list if you were making it?
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Composition
Number three in my little series of how I use music for my own therapy is composition. I'm not going to lie to you, I'm very glad that this one happened when it did. Why? Because I can do a shameless plug! I'll be playing an acoustic show with a friend and opening up for another band, call Mike Mains and The Branches. We'll be doing some covers, but more exciting will be a few of my original compositions. The show is the 19th of July (this Tuesday) and, if you're in or around Mason City, IA this week, you should check it out. Free show and Mike Mains and the Branches are fast becoming one of my favorite summer bands.
Now to the task at hand. Composition is a hard subject to write about because you can take it in so many directions. You can write about the technical aspects, such as chord progressions, rhyming schemes, or melodic contour and dynamics. You can discuss the benefits of releasing emotions through positive means, such as music. The area that I think means the most to my personal compositions, though, the emotional content of music and how I attempt to convey them. This may sound like a mix of the technical and emotional aspects, and in a sense you'd be correct.
When I write music, I always want it to accomplish something. One song may be extroverted and written to tell a story. Another may be introverted and more about personal revelations. Believe it or not, I've even got a song that is meant to be humorous (gasp!). The main current behind all my music, however, is that I wanted the songs to say something. I usually start with an idea, what I want the main point to be. Many times, the song will take on a new meaning when it's done, but I always start with a focus. After that, I try to come up with a few key phrases that I can base at least one verse and a chorus on. My songs don't push any boundaries and are all pretty basic, so I usually write the chorus and first verse. After that, I usually have a pretty good idea if the song is worth finishing, reworking, or if I should just toss it (I've tossed more songs that I care to admit). After a song has made it through the process of writing the lyrics, I usually put it away for a little while so I can come back to it. If, when I sing it again, I still like it, I'll let others hear it. It may seem like a long process, but I've always been one who wants what I say to mean something and I want to say things right. I think too often people write prolifically, putting out dozens, even hundreds of songs, but never actually say anything. I may only have a handful of songs that people will ever hear, but they will all be a piece of me that others can hear.
You may be thinking that this post is starting to get a little long, so I'll start trying to make more sense and wrap it up. I believe that all music should say something. I try to get my music to say something. That's how I use composition as my therapy.
If you want to hear some of my songs (recorded very cheaply on a home computer), check out this site: http://www.reverbnation.com/artist/bryanodeen#!/bryanodeen
Now to the task at hand. Composition is a hard subject to write about because you can take it in so many directions. You can write about the technical aspects, such as chord progressions, rhyming schemes, or melodic contour and dynamics. You can discuss the benefits of releasing emotions through positive means, such as music. The area that I think means the most to my personal compositions, though, the emotional content of music and how I attempt to convey them. This may sound like a mix of the technical and emotional aspects, and in a sense you'd be correct.
When I write music, I always want it to accomplish something. One song may be extroverted and written to tell a story. Another may be introverted and more about personal revelations. Believe it or not, I've even got a song that is meant to be humorous (gasp!). The main current behind all my music, however, is that I wanted the songs to say something. I usually start with an idea, what I want the main point to be. Many times, the song will take on a new meaning when it's done, but I always start with a focus. After that, I try to come up with a few key phrases that I can base at least one verse and a chorus on. My songs don't push any boundaries and are all pretty basic, so I usually write the chorus and first verse. After that, I usually have a pretty good idea if the song is worth finishing, reworking, or if I should just toss it (I've tossed more songs that I care to admit). After a song has made it through the process of writing the lyrics, I usually put it away for a little while so I can come back to it. If, when I sing it again, I still like it, I'll let others hear it. It may seem like a long process, but I've always been one who wants what I say to mean something and I want to say things right. I think too often people write prolifically, putting out dozens, even hundreds of songs, but never actually say anything. I may only have a handful of songs that people will ever hear, but they will all be a piece of me that others can hear.
You may be thinking that this post is starting to get a little long, so I'll start trying to make more sense and wrap it up. I believe that all music should say something. I try to get my music to say something. That's how I use composition as my therapy.
If you want to hear some of my songs (recorded very cheaply on a home computer), check out this site: http://www.reverbnation.com/artist/bryanodeen#!/bryanodeen
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Learning about music
Here's the next edition in my "Music is My Therapy" series. It's about how learning about music is therapeutic for me, and hopefully it may give you some insight into how you can use music to enhance your life. Not to sound like an expert, mind you, but I figure that if nothing else keeping this blog forces me to process and put down in writing my philosophies, lessons, and thoughts.
I have always been a curious person and music may be a curious person's wonderland. There are so many facets of music that can be learned. You can learn instruments, theory, philosophy, sight reading, composition, history, etc. Instruments can be fun and challenging, as well as practical for music therapists. In my job in hospice, I get a chance to meet with people who have played all kinds of instruments. Many have played piano and sang, but occasionally I meet a client who used to play band instruments and, I might be able to create a therapeutic experience simply by playing a clarinet, trumpet, or whatever they used to play. I don't often do this, mostly because I don't know a ton of band instruments enough to play in a session. I would love to get that point, though.
History is another interesting aspect to learn for music therapists. Many times, I can tie in a story that a patient told me with the story behind a song. This makes the client feel more connected with the music and can help them open up to me, as well. Everybody has a story, and I love to hear them.
So far, I've just mentioned a few ways learning can be therapeutic for my clients, so I'll talk a little bit about one of my favorite aspects of music. I'm a huge fan of learning about music philosophy. I'm always so interested in people's thoughts when they are composing. For instance, one of my favorite movies at this moment is "It Might Get Loud", where three great guitarists (The Edge, Jimmy Page, and Jack White) talk about their approach to guitar and songwriting. Even practice has a philosophy. The book "Practicing: A Musician's Return to Music" by Glenn Kurtz discusses how Mr. Kurtz went from being an aspiring professional classical guitarist and, eventually, learns to just play for himself. This book really has helped me focus when I practice and refocus when I lose sight of what I'm doing. I would definitely suggest you watch "It Might Get Loud" or read "Practicing."
What are some of your favorite things to learn about music and why?
I have always been a curious person and music may be a curious person's wonderland. There are so many facets of music that can be learned. You can learn instruments, theory, philosophy, sight reading, composition, history, etc. Instruments can be fun and challenging, as well as practical for music therapists. In my job in hospice, I get a chance to meet with people who have played all kinds of instruments. Many have played piano and sang, but occasionally I meet a client who used to play band instruments and, I might be able to create a therapeutic experience simply by playing a clarinet, trumpet, or whatever they used to play. I don't often do this, mostly because I don't know a ton of band instruments enough to play in a session. I would love to get that point, though.
History is another interesting aspect to learn for music therapists. Many times, I can tie in a story that a patient told me with the story behind a song. This makes the client feel more connected with the music and can help them open up to me, as well. Everybody has a story, and I love to hear them.
So far, I've just mentioned a few ways learning can be therapeutic for my clients, so I'll talk a little bit about one of my favorite aspects of music. I'm a huge fan of learning about music philosophy. I'm always so interested in people's thoughts when they are composing. For instance, one of my favorite movies at this moment is "It Might Get Loud", where three great guitarists (The Edge, Jimmy Page, and Jack White) talk about their approach to guitar and songwriting. Even practice has a philosophy. The book "Practicing: A Musician's Return to Music" by Glenn Kurtz discusses how Mr. Kurtz went from being an aspiring professional classical guitarist and, eventually, learns to just play for himself. This book really has helped me focus when I practice and refocus when I lose sight of what I'm doing. I would definitely suggest you watch "It Might Get Loud" or read "Practicing."
What are some of your favorite things to learn about music and why?
Friday, July 1, 2011
Music in the environment
A few posts ago, I discussed how I use music as my own personal therapy. I gave four ways that I intentionally use music to enrich my life and mentioned that maybe I'd try to break each of these down at some point. Well, my friends, that time has come.
I guess I should start by stating what exactly I mean by "environment". Essentially, I mean that music is playing for anyone within ear shot to hear. For people to hear, people need to be around. Seems basic enough, right? For me, then, music in the environment is used to foster social support and promote interaction. I'm not a very extroverted person. I'm the guy at the wedding reception who stands off to the side and watches people dance not because I can't dance (although that's what I'll say whenever someone tries to get me to do it), but because there are always so many people out there dancing. Plus, it's too loud for me to talk over, so I end up just moving around, trying not to bump into people, and not talking. Knowing this, then, maybe it makes more sense that I try to use music as a way to break the ice in small groups. I love talking with people about music and playing new music for people. Many times, I will just put a record on and talk with people when they come over to visit. It seems that when people hear music that they know they don't have to listen to, they feel more inclined to talk. This includes myself.
One reason I bring all this up is that it appears that music is becoming a personal experience. People have mp3 players and headphones nowadays, not radios in their homes. Computers have speakers, but I bet if you go to coffee shop, you'll find that people with computers are using headphones, isolating themselves from potentially disruptive stimuli. I can't help but wonder how this isolation affects us as people in the 21st century. We can listen to what we want to listen to through headphones. We can watch what we want to watch on one of hundreds of channels. We can decide who we do and do not interact with by denying "friend requests." We can essentially create our own world where we don't talk to people, listen to music, watch shows, or hear news we don't like. This may make us less annoyed, but is that really how many of us want to live?
These ideas have implications for music therapy. Yesterday, I did a music therapy session for a gentleman where we had arranged to pick up lunch for him at his favorite restaurant, and brought along several of his friends that would meet there. I played music and, for the first song they listened quietly and clapped. I said, after that, "What are some stories you have of Eddie?" and that got the ball rolling. People started telling stories back and forth and, once they were in a good pace, I started playing again. You could tell that the stories got more animated the longer I played and, when I decided to eat my lunch, the stories slowed down more. I wish I had kept playing, and was planning on it, but people started to leave. The music seemed to, for that period of time, spur on conversation and interaction between old friends.
Trygve Aasgaard talks a lot more about music therapy as an environmental factor in his chapter in "Music Therapy in Palliative Care: New Voices" edited by David Aldridge. Aasgaard's chapter, entitled "Music Therapy as Milieu in the Hospice and Paediatric Oncology Ward", holds a lot of information about how environmental music therapy is used at his hospice in Oslo. Check it out!
I guess I should start by stating what exactly I mean by "environment". Essentially, I mean that music is playing for anyone within ear shot to hear. For people to hear, people need to be around. Seems basic enough, right? For me, then, music in the environment is used to foster social support and promote interaction. I'm not a very extroverted person. I'm the guy at the wedding reception who stands off to the side and watches people dance not because I can't dance (although that's what I'll say whenever someone tries to get me to do it), but because there are always so many people out there dancing. Plus, it's too loud for me to talk over, so I end up just moving around, trying not to bump into people, and not talking. Knowing this, then, maybe it makes more sense that I try to use music as a way to break the ice in small groups. I love talking with people about music and playing new music for people. Many times, I will just put a record on and talk with people when they come over to visit. It seems that when people hear music that they know they don't have to listen to, they feel more inclined to talk. This includes myself.
One reason I bring all this up is that it appears that music is becoming a personal experience. People have mp3 players and headphones nowadays, not radios in their homes. Computers have speakers, but I bet if you go to coffee shop, you'll find that people with computers are using headphones, isolating themselves from potentially disruptive stimuli. I can't help but wonder how this isolation affects us as people in the 21st century. We can listen to what we want to listen to through headphones. We can watch what we want to watch on one of hundreds of channels. We can decide who we do and do not interact with by denying "friend requests." We can essentially create our own world where we don't talk to people, listen to music, watch shows, or hear news we don't like. This may make us less annoyed, but is that really how many of us want to live?
These ideas have implications for music therapy. Yesterday, I did a music therapy session for a gentleman where we had arranged to pick up lunch for him at his favorite restaurant, and brought along several of his friends that would meet there. I played music and, for the first song they listened quietly and clapped. I said, after that, "What are some stories you have of Eddie?" and that got the ball rolling. People started telling stories back and forth and, once they were in a good pace, I started playing again. You could tell that the stories got more animated the longer I played and, when I decided to eat my lunch, the stories slowed down more. I wish I had kept playing, and was planning on it, but people started to leave. The music seemed to, for that period of time, spur on conversation and interaction between old friends.
Trygve Aasgaard talks a lot more about music therapy as an environmental factor in his chapter in "Music Therapy in Palliative Care: New Voices" edited by David Aldridge. Aasgaard's chapter, entitled "Music Therapy as Milieu in the Hospice and Paediatric Oncology Ward", holds a lot of information about how environmental music therapy is used at his hospice in Oslo. Check it out!
Friday, June 24, 2011
Wedding season is in full swing
Lately, I've been inundated with weddings and, when you are a musician, that means several weekend gigs over the course of a few months. I decided to do a quick little post about some of the music I have done at weddings so far. I actually don't think I have any more weddings to sing at (although I'm standing up in two more), so this makes a good time to recap what I've done in weddings.
Song #1 - Everlong by The Foo Fighters
Before I write anything, listen and watch this video of the original, pre-Bryan version.
My first thoughts, the strumming seems a little too percussive and the vocals are a little to raw/edgy for a traditional wedding. The bride and groom requested to keep all the lyrics as written and asked for it to be "slower", which I found out meant less percussive. Apparently, my computer or myself is unable to post video of the final outcome (turns out "young people" can be technologically deficient). I'll try to explain what I did. After I reworked the song, I played traditional chords instead of the power chords, but kept the same chords themselves (Dmaj7, B9, G9) and played the guitar line that goes with the pre-chorus an octave higher, enabling me to stay closer to the headstock of the guitar. The strumming was almost a campfire strum, with some syncopated accents to bring in the original strumming patterns. I would love to show you (whoever happens to read this), but, as I stated earlier, YouTube does not like me or my computer.
Song #2 - Come Thou Fount
This song is a fairly familiar hymn, so I didn't have to change very much. The girl who sang it with me is a friend of mine, which was fun. She sings in a very pretty mezzo-soprano voice and I have a tenor voice. That meant that if we both wanted to sing the melody the whole time, it could be a wee bit trebly, which isn't always enjoyable. Because she is a soprano, I decided she could have the melody for the whole song (which just fits into the stereotype, doesn't it?). I wanted to change up the song to keep it interesting for the friends and family who drove from all over Iowa (and beyond) to come to the wedding. I split it up as such:
Verse 1- finger picking guitar; voices in unison
Verse 2- finger picking guitar; voices singing harmonies
Verse 3- whole notes plucked with fingers on guitar for first half of verse, then finger picking; voices singing different harmonies
I thought it went pretty well, but I'm not aware of any recording that happened to post a video or sound clip of the whole song.
Song #3 - Song of Ruth, arr. by Eilers
This was in the same wedding as Come Thou Fount (which I also ushered in). It is a really pretty SATB arrangement of (you guessed it), the Song of Ruth found in (right again) the book of Ruth in the Bible. Essentially, in the Bible story, Ruth is saying she will follow Naomi, her mother-in-law, after her son (Ruth's husband) dies. Noami urges Ruth to go back to "her own people", but Ruth pledges her loyalty to her mother-in-law through this song. Basically, it says, where ever you go, I'll go. This song was a great choice the by couple, as the groom has been teaching in Tanzania and the bride had to give up her job and life here in the United States to teach for a few years with him in Africa. The song is written in a "churchy" style, which I hadn't sung in for a year or two. Because it was already written, I didn't have to arrange anything this time and just had to focus on getting the notes and intonation down with the other singers. We didn't practice more than 2 or 3 times total, including the day of, so I was a little nervous, but it seemed to go well. It challenged me to sing out, something I'm notoriously bad at, and listen more to the other people singing, something I don't have to worry about most of the time for work.
Overall, I'd say that I'm very happy with the music for this year's wedding season. Each song challenged me in some way and I felt that the musical product was pretty good in each of them. I can only hope that they couples I helped enjoyed it at much as I enjoyed learning from the songs.
Song #1 - Everlong by The Foo Fighters
Before I write anything, listen and watch this video of the original, pre-Bryan version.
My first thoughts, the strumming seems a little too percussive and the vocals are a little to raw/edgy for a traditional wedding. The bride and groom requested to keep all the lyrics as written and asked for it to be "slower", which I found out meant less percussive. Apparently, my computer or myself is unable to post video of the final outcome (turns out "young people" can be technologically deficient). I'll try to explain what I did. After I reworked the song, I played traditional chords instead of the power chords, but kept the same chords themselves (Dmaj7, B9, G9) and played the guitar line that goes with the pre-chorus an octave higher, enabling me to stay closer to the headstock of the guitar. The strumming was almost a campfire strum, with some syncopated accents to bring in the original strumming patterns. I would love to show you (whoever happens to read this), but, as I stated earlier, YouTube does not like me or my computer.
Song #2 - Come Thou Fount
This song is a fairly familiar hymn, so I didn't have to change very much. The girl who sang it with me is a friend of mine, which was fun. She sings in a very pretty mezzo-soprano voice and I have a tenor voice. That meant that if we both wanted to sing the melody the whole time, it could be a wee bit trebly, which isn't always enjoyable. Because she is a soprano, I decided she could have the melody for the whole song (which just fits into the stereotype, doesn't it?). I wanted to change up the song to keep it interesting for the friends and family who drove from all over Iowa (and beyond) to come to the wedding. I split it up as such:
Verse 1- finger picking guitar; voices in unison
Verse 2- finger picking guitar; voices singing harmonies
Verse 3- whole notes plucked with fingers on guitar for first half of verse, then finger picking; voices singing different harmonies
I thought it went pretty well, but I'm not aware of any recording that happened to post a video or sound clip of the whole song.
Song #3 - Song of Ruth, arr. by Eilers
This was in the same wedding as Come Thou Fount (which I also ushered in). It is a really pretty SATB arrangement of (you guessed it), the Song of Ruth found in (right again) the book of Ruth in the Bible. Essentially, in the Bible story, Ruth is saying she will follow Naomi, her mother-in-law, after her son (Ruth's husband) dies. Noami urges Ruth to go back to "her own people", but Ruth pledges her loyalty to her mother-in-law through this song. Basically, it says, where ever you go, I'll go. This song was a great choice the by couple, as the groom has been teaching in Tanzania and the bride had to give up her job and life here in the United States to teach for a few years with him in Africa. The song is written in a "churchy" style, which I hadn't sung in for a year or two. Because it was already written, I didn't have to arrange anything this time and just had to focus on getting the notes and intonation down with the other singers. We didn't practice more than 2 or 3 times total, including the day of, so I was a little nervous, but it seemed to go well. It challenged me to sing out, something I'm notoriously bad at, and listen more to the other people singing, something I don't have to worry about most of the time for work.
Overall, I'd say that I'm very happy with the music for this year's wedding season. Each song challenged me in some way and I felt that the musical product was pretty good in each of them. I can only hope that they couples I helped enjoyed it at much as I enjoyed learning from the songs.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Music is my therapy too
I think that, occasionally, it's work stating that music is really cool. This statement may make you think "Duh! If it wasn't, you wouldn't be a music therapist!" Before you change pages, however, hear me out. As music therapists, or any other professional who makes a living doing something they love, I think it may be easy to let your love of music (art, recreation, etc) become a bit of a burden. I've talked with a few music therapists who, like me, play music for hours a day, but once they get home, music is not part of their lives. I guess I've only heard it a few times, but it always disturbs me a little bit. If a music therapist loses sight of music as an amazing recreational activity, the therapeutic use of music therapy may become a just a job. Maybe this is the Millennial in me talking, but I want my job to be more than a pay check. I want it to be a calling, a mission, and a sense of fulfillment.
I understand, however, that through the sheer amount of time we spend playing music, we get worn out. If I play guitar all day, and then get home and play all night, I don't only have to worry about carpal tunnel (or other physical ailments). If music was only an activity where I play by myself, I could alienate my wife and other people I love. Therefore, this week, I've been thinking about ways that I use music as therapy for myself.
1) Music in the environment - Turn some music on when you get home. This sounds really basic, but I think people don't always think of this as therapeutic. At home, I like to play music while my wife and I go about our afternoon and evening. It always varies and we take turns choosing the music. My wife and I have some different tastes in music, so we end up learning new music. My wife listens to the radio (country and top 40) and I listen to music that doesn't get a lot of radio play (a lot of independent, experiemental music), so I get introduced to popular music and she gets introduced to music that tends to stretch the ears a bit.
2) Learning about music - I've always enjoyed learning. I like learning new music and musical instruments. My wife likes to poke fun at the number of instruments I've acquired (and still want). Whether I'm getting better at instruments I already have a basic understanding of (like the mandolin, cavaquinho, or violin) or learning something completely different (like the clarinet I got for my birthday), I just enjoy the challenge of learning.
3) Composition - Writing music is probably the most active way I use music as therapy for myself. Even if I don't necessarily sit down to write and process my life's events, they usually end up somewhere in my music. Sometimes, I realize it and consciously choose not to include it in my music, but sometimes it really seems to fit with the song and I keep it. There are other times that I sit down to vent my frustrations and anxieties (or joys), and even if I never end up playing those songs, they help me process the events that brought on the music. It's like holding a mirror to my emotional self.
4) Silence - Believe it or not, sometimes not using music can be just as therapeutic to me as listening, playing, or writing music. Our modern, fast-paced world seems to be very noisy and sometimes I forget what it's like to hear the world, instead of cars, television, and music. I recently took my dog for a walk and forgot my iPod. It was a fantastic time outside and I was reminded how the birds sounded. Now, when I go for a walk or run, I don't bring my iPod, because the world can give me enough to listen to.
I guess that's all I'll write about today. Perhaps over the next couple weeks, I'll expand each of these, because I'm pretty sure I could write for quite a while on each of these subjects.
I understand, however, that through the sheer amount of time we spend playing music, we get worn out. If I play guitar all day, and then get home and play all night, I don't only have to worry about carpal tunnel (or other physical ailments). If music was only an activity where I play by myself, I could alienate my wife and other people I love. Therefore, this week, I've been thinking about ways that I use music as therapy for myself.
1) Music in the environment - Turn some music on when you get home. This sounds really basic, but I think people don't always think of this as therapeutic. At home, I like to play music while my wife and I go about our afternoon and evening. It always varies and we take turns choosing the music. My wife and I have some different tastes in music, so we end up learning new music. My wife listens to the radio (country and top 40) and I listen to music that doesn't get a lot of radio play (a lot of independent, experiemental music), so I get introduced to popular music and she gets introduced to music that tends to stretch the ears a bit.
2) Learning about music - I've always enjoyed learning. I like learning new music and musical instruments. My wife likes to poke fun at the number of instruments I've acquired (and still want). Whether I'm getting better at instruments I already have a basic understanding of (like the mandolin, cavaquinho, or violin) or learning something completely different (like the clarinet I got for my birthday), I just enjoy the challenge of learning.
3) Composition - Writing music is probably the most active way I use music as therapy for myself. Even if I don't necessarily sit down to write and process my life's events, they usually end up somewhere in my music. Sometimes, I realize it and consciously choose not to include it in my music, but sometimes it really seems to fit with the song and I keep it. There are other times that I sit down to vent my frustrations and anxieties (or joys), and even if I never end up playing those songs, they help me process the events that brought on the music. It's like holding a mirror to my emotional self.
4) Silence - Believe it or not, sometimes not using music can be just as therapeutic to me as listening, playing, or writing music. Our modern, fast-paced world seems to be very noisy and sometimes I forget what it's like to hear the world, instead of cars, television, and music. I recently took my dog for a walk and forgot my iPod. It was a fantastic time outside and I was reminded how the birds sounded. Now, when I go for a walk or run, I don't bring my iPod, because the world can give me enough to listen to.
I guess that's all I'll write about today. Perhaps over the next couple weeks, I'll expand each of these, because I'm pretty sure I could write for quite a while on each of these subjects.
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