Michael R. Gagliardo

Back in July I received a comment on a blog post, after asking readers what the subject of my next blog post should be.  One reader, Denise, chimed in with the topic of “persuading school systems and communities to recognize the foundational importance of classical music and cultivating a lifelong appreciation.”  I like it.

I’m currently teaching a class for the University of Alabama’s Osher Lifelong Learning Institute.  In a nutshell, OLLI is a program that is designed for “mature adults” with the basic premise being “learning for the pure joy of learning.”

What a great concept!  Adults come and take classes on music, history, computers, languages – you name it.  There are no tests, no homework, no age limitations – just an open, exciting learning environment where students who share common interests come to brush up on things they are already familiar with, or to add new learning experiences.

It begs the question – how do we take this love of and desire for learning and transfer it from the world of “mature adults” to the realm of those we should be working hard every day to reach – young people?

My class this semester for OLLI is on European Musical Masters.  Each week, for 90 minutes, we focus on one of the great European composers – Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, and such.  And each week there are 20-25 eager students in class, ready to learn more about the day’s topic.  It’s fun for the students, and it’s fun for the teacher too, because it gives me an opportunity to refresh my memory on things I may have forgotten from music history courses of long ago.  In doing so, it also reenergizes me and generates new excitement for each topic.

So how do we transfer this to our young people?  And, as Denise suggested, what is the role of school systems and communities in creating lifelong learners, especially in the area of classical music?

It is no secret that classical music has suffered tremendously, not just in the current economic climate, but for the past 15-20 years.  The sale of classical recordings has been on the decline for at least 10 years.  Orchestras across the country – major orchestras, like San Diego and San Antonio – have shut their doors, and others like Detroit and St. Louis are either in danger of or have been miraculously rescued from falling over the edge.  And let’s face it – as orchestras have been inclined to say over the past two decades, their audiences are literally dying.

So let’s open up the discussion – what can WE do to solve this problem and create a new climate of engagement and learning in the world of classical music?

Michael R. Gagliardo

It’s been a while.  I must admit, I’ve neglected my duty as a blogger.  What can I say – I can offer all kinds of excuses, but I don’t know if I really buy them myself.  The end of the summer and the beginning of the school year is always a busy time for those of us in arts education, true.  I’m biased, but I think for musicians it’s just a little busier than for others.  So I’ve spent a lot of time preparing for the new season.  There were auditions to administer, and music to prepare, and folders to stuff, and meetings with new and returning parents to be held, and all of the things that go along with starting up the new year.

And then, just when you think things are settling down, there are the other things that come about.  The creation of a new program was one for the Etowah Youth Orchestras.  And with that came an entirely new set of start-up duties.  After that, there was the donor relations work, and the grant writing, and the planning and promotion and recruiting for school programs.  There’s just so much to do!

But the thing is, there’s always a lot to do.  Artists are creative people, and creative people are busy people, because they are always thinking of something new – a new angle for funding, a new resource for teaching, a new and innovative way of expressing their art form.  As a good colleague and great friend often reminds me, work contracts and expands to fill the amount of time which you have to complete it.  How true.

So maybe it’s not really about having enough time.  Maybe it’s about something else.  Maybe it’s about priorities.

Yes, I’ve been a bad, bad blogger this late summer and early fall, and it’s not really that I didn’t have the time to sit down and tell you about what’s on my mind.  It’s that I didn’t put it high on my priority list this summer.  And now, here I am in October, trying to play catch-up for three months of being bad.

It happens to us all.  Priorities change, in our professional lives, and in our personal lives.  And we know that it’s OK for this to happen.  But at the same time, there are things that we have to keep focused on.  The arts is one of those things.  The arts must be a priority.  We especially cannot – must not – ever lose sight of this.

Today was my day for a “priority check.”  Make it yours, too – we need everyone out there fighting for what we know is important and essential.

The first half of their interview can be found here.

Michael Gagliardo

In my last Green Paper post, I wrote about the cuts being made by the Culver County School System in Indiana.  The cuts, which were radical to say the least, were designed to save the strings program in the Culver County Schools.  They involved eliminating strings from instruments, having the school orchestras march at the halftime of football games, and having instrument repair work performed by state inmates in correctional facilities.  Outrageous.  But here’s the rub.

There is no Culver County, Indiana.  There is no town of Ford Creek.  Paul LaCosta, Bud Parker, and Beth Ann Pederson are fictional characters. The entire press release was a work of fiction.

If you read “The Onion,” you probably caught on pretty quickly.  For a music major who briefly entertained a side career in both journalism and creative writing, I was fairly pleased with my work.  But as a scientist, my little experiment fell flat.

You see, the entire goal of that blog post was to get people to respond.  It was meant to be written in such as way that it would be shocking, but still believable.  After all, we’ve heard of some strange things that school systems have done to save money.  So why not?  My hope was that string teachers, and for that matter arts educators and arts professionals of all types, would read this and have no choice but to respond.
Maybe I went too far over the top and made it too unbelievable.   But the only response I received, the only comment posted, was from an old college friend of mine who I urged to read the post via my Facebook page.  Disappointing.  But I did learn something.

The Green Papers are designed to create a dialogue.  But you can’t have a dialogue when only one person is doing the talking.  So maybe it’s time for those of us who are in these types of positions – positions of leadership or administration – to stop talking and start listening.

This project cannot work with just the Green Paper Ambassadors writing blog posts and hoping someone is reading them.  So this is my challenge to you, dear reader.  Tell me what my next blog post should be about.  Of course, we have to keep things in context – it needs to refer to the ASTA Green Paper on the Future of Strings.  But pick any element, and tell me what you want to hear about, or better yet, what you want to discuss.  That is the goal of this project – discussion.  Communication.  Thoughtful conversation about the future of our art.

So let’s hear from you, readers.  I’m listening.

FORD CREEK, IN, June 24, 2010 – Officials and board members with the Culver County School System have devised a way to save the system’s threatened strings program without cutting services to students.  “After a great deal of discussion, we have come up with solutions that we feel will allow us to continue to offer the strings program in our schools, and at the same time will address the current economic concerns of the system,” stated Culver County Superintendent of Schools Paul LaCosta.

The board has recommended cutting back the number of strings on each string instrument from four to two.  “We feel that, by eliminating two of the strings from each instrument, we can cut maintenance costs for string repair and replacement in half, which we estimate will alone save the system roughly $2,000 annually,” noted Beth Ann Pederson, Finance Director for the Culver County Schools.  “We don’t want to dictate which strings should be eliminated,” added LaCosta.  “We will leave this up to the discretion of the instructors – they know best in this matter.”

Additionally, the board has mandated that string orchestras at the high school level become active participants in their schools’ band booster programs.  “We want to see those orchestra parents out there in the concession stands on Friday nights, working side by side with the band parents selling hot dogs and popcorn and raising money for the orchestra,” said Culver County School Board President Bud Parker.  “Of course, we expect them to participate in the halftime show along with the band.  I’ve heard of ‘strolling strings’ programs before, and I’m looking forward to having the first schools in the Midwest with marching orchestras.”

Other ideas suggested in the meetings included soliciting donations of horsehair from local farmer for students to use in their bows when in need of replacement, and having instrument repair work performed by inmates in carpentry programs at state prisons instead of using most costly instrument repair services.  “We are looking into the cost benefits of these options, and feel that we will make more headway in saving our strings programs by using these alternatives,” added Pederson.

Culver County strings teachers could not be reached for comment.

I’m a little biased now, having just come back from the greatest tour ever with the students of the Etowah Youth Orchestras.  I spent nine days touring Costa Rica with 37 members of the EYO.  It was an incredible experience.  The food was fantastic.  The wildlife was remarkable.  The scenery took your breath away.

We learned much about the country and its people.  Our guide was first-rate – she knew everything there is to know about the culture and the ecosystem of this beautiful country. 

But our biggest lesson was one we took directly from the people we came in contact with over the course of our journey.  We learned about community.

We didn’t just learn the generic definitions of what a community is.  We learned what it means to be a community.  And it’s not something that you can put down in words.  As trite as it may sound, you have to be there and experience it and feel it to know what community really means.  We felt it while we were there.

The EYO performed four times – in a private school in San Jose for the school’s students; in the main cathedral in the center of San Ramon; at a resort for travelers from near and far in Jaco; and in the town square, right across the street from the cathedral, on Sunday morning following mass in Orotina.  Each audience was a little different.  But each brought us a new sense of what it means to be a community.

In San Jose, our students had lunch with the like-aged students in the school’s band after the exchange performance.  But then they jumped rope and signed countless autographs for the younger students, who all wanted their attention.  In Jaco, the lively crowd sang and cheered and whistled and called out for more.  In Orotina, the Assistant Mayor served as the narrator for one of the pieces of music, led the applause, and then directed us to a line where lunch was being served for our group.  We ate and mingled.  We felt like we were an important part of the community.  We felt like we WERE a part of the community.

If four little towns in Costa Rica can make a group of students and parents from Alabama feel like they are at home, and can make them feel like their performance is the biggest thing to happen in their town since who knows when, then why can’t we do that more often here, at home?

Michael R. Gagliardo

I started out as a band kid.  While my parents started me on piano lessons when I was in the 3rd grade, and I found it to be interesting (as long as I got to play what I wanted to play!), I think my interest in music was really sparked when I started playing the trumpet in the school band in the 5th grade.  By the time I got to middle school, I was hooked, and was headed down that path of musical obsession – if there was a school group or a church or a wedding that needed a trumpet over the next six years, I was the go-to guy.  So how did I get involved with strings?

It’s really simply – I had an instrumental music teacher in middle school who wasn’t just a band guy.  He also conducted the school’s orchestra.  That’s correct – not the school’s string class – the school’s ORCHESTRA.  When I was in middle school, for two years, I played trumpet in a full orchestra.  When I got to high school, we had TWO full orchestras, PLUS a pit orchestra for the annual school musical, where we played shows like “South Pacific” and “My Fair Lady.”  I did it all for the next four years, and became more than just a band kid – I became a musician.  I didn’t have to choose between orchestra and band – I played in both.  And I played in every variation imaginable.  Pit orchestra.  Marching band.  Symphony orchestra.  Jazz band.  Youth orchestra.  Symphonic band.  And the list goes on and on.

I’m certain I’m not the only music educator with this kind of background.  So why is it that band programs are far more abundant in our schools than string programs?  Ken Conrady, my middle school band and orchestra director, did it all – and in turn inspired me to do likewise.  That’s why I feel at home in front of either ensemble. 
Of course, you have to have a starting point, which requires someone who can really get beginning students on the right track with solid fundamental instruction.  But if band directors with orchestral experience would entertain the possibility of stepping in front of the orchestra as well, then might it encourage more school systems to invest in the initial stages of musical development, and help us achieve the goal of providing string instruction to a greater number of schools and students. 

Your thoughts?

So how did I get involved with strings? It’s really simply – I had an instrumental music teacher in middle school who wasn’t just a band guy. He also conducted the school’s orchestra. That’s correct – not the school’s string class – the school’s ORCHESTRA. When I was in middle school, for two years, I played trumpet in a full orchestra. When I got to high school, we had TWO full orchestras, PLUS a pit orchestra for the annual school musical, where we played shows like “South Pacific” and “My Fair Lady.” 

I did it all for the next four years, and became more than just a band kid – I became a musician.  I didn’t have to choose between orchestra and band – I played in both. And I played in every variation imaginable. Pit orchestra. Marching band. Symphony orchestra. Jazz band. Youth orchestra. Symphonic band. And the list goes on and on. I’m certain I’m not the only music educator with this kind of background. So why is it that band programs are far more abundant in our schools than string programs? Ken Conrady, my middle school band and orchestra director, did it all – and in turn inspired me to do likewise. That’s why I feel at home in front of either ensemble.

Of course, you have to have a starting point, which requires someone who can really get beginning students on the right track with solid fundamental instruction. But if band directors with orchestral experience would entertain the possibility of stepping in front of the orchestra as well, then might it encourage more school systems to invest in the initial stages of musical development, and help us achieve the goal of providing string instruction to a greater number of schools and students.

Your thoughts?

You see, things are a little different for music teachers.  Not to take anything away from educators in any other subject, mind you, but things are a little different for those of us in the music profession.  Like any other teacher, we’re thinking about the end of the year.  That means, first and foremost, performances.  Every ensemble has its own end-of-the-year concert to present.  And with these concerts come things like senior soloists and special honors and traditional tributes.  Plus, there are the awards banquets and the honor ceremonies and the special community events that come at the end of the school year, and each would not be complete without some kind of musical accompaniment – provided, of course, by the school choir or brass ensemble or string quartet, led by the capable and (by this time of year) completely exhausted director.

But beyond the conclusion of this year, there is next year – and here’s where the real differences begin.  First, there is the matter of recruiting.  Most teachers in other subject areas know who they are going to have on their rosters for the fall.  But it’s up to the music teacher to convince would-be prospects to join in for a great adventure.  So besides preparing for the grand finale of this year, the music teacher is constantly on the move to draw in students for the next.  Imagine if the algebra teacher was responsible for recruiting students to keep his job – I wonder how successful he’d be?  Plus, while the algebra, or the history, or the English teacher will be teaching the same material in the fall to new students, the music teacher retains many of her students, and is expected to present new material, both for the students and for the audience.  Thus the preparation is much more involved – in theory, to prevent repetition, you can only reuse the same material every four years.  No wonder there is a high burn-out rate among music teachers!

So tell me – what can be done to increase teacher retention?  And for that matter, what can we do to encourage young musicians to enter this profession?  The answers to these questions could determine the fate of music programs in the schools.  We like to discuss the perceived notions that the failure of music programs, when it happens (and it happens far too often), is someone else’s fault.  It’s easier that way.  But is it time to point the camera back at ourselves and do a little soul searching?

That could be perceived as a little harsh for the end of the year, a time when things are aimed at the future.  But I wonder – if our music education graduates, who are about to trade a cap and gown and a framed certificate for the new realities of high stress, demanding hours, and often inadequate funding, were better prepared for the realities they are about to face, would it soften the blow and allow more of them to be better acclimated and less frustrated as first-year teachers, and thus help them to attain a balance that would go toward keeping talented young educators in the classroom and out of the cubicle.

I’m here because the orchestra director at Cullman Middle and High Schools asked me to bring my students to help support her young orchestra program.  We have worked with Mark several times in the past, and we always have a great time performing with him.  When we received the call, we jumped at the opportunity.  In the process, our musicians have had the opportunity to meet other players who share the common interest – a love of making music.  At the end of the night, when the final chord has sounded, and the thunderous applause had faded, my students will have met new friends, new connections, who share this common bond. 

You see, it sounds corny, but the arts have this way of reducing us down to the very basic elements that have brought us together today in the first place.  These players are not from this school or that school.  They are not in this grade or that grade.  There are no lines drawn here – there is just the common element of music that has created the enthusiasm and exuberance now present on the stage. 

I am thinking about these things and considering the vision of ASTA for the future of strings, especially in regards to strengthening the importance of orchestras within our communities.  Tonight’s concert is anticipated to be a full house.  Mark had an interview on a classic rock radio station out of Birmingham in between rehearsals today.  The station reaches thousands of potential audience members. 

So why is it that we struggle to keep these programs alive?  How can we make people see the true benefits of what we are doing – establishing community, both locally and globally?  My students can answer this question – now how can we get the policy-makers and program-funders on the same page?

That could be the deal breaker – the deciding factor as to whether or not a student opts to continue down the path of musical studies, or instead selects another area of interest.  What students do in a classroom setting in the first two years of study is, of course, vastly different from the experience of sitting in an orchestra and performing as a part of an ensemble.  While there’s no way to share this experience directly with students in their formative years, we can offer the second-hand experience of being an audience member.  Sitting in a concert hall and being surrounding by the sounds of the orchestra give students a first taste of what could be. 

This is just one reason why orchestras are a crucial part of our communities.  The American String Teachers Association’s vision for the future of strings includes “strengthening the importance of orchestras within our communities throughcollaboration, education, participation, and support.”  Our orchestras in our communities play a vital role in shaping the future of music education.  The funny thing is, sometimes they don’t even realize the importance of the role they play.

My colleagues and I talked about today’s concert over lunch.  One of them, who has played in a professional orchestra, observed that, while the orchestra’s playing was good, there was a “lack of involvement” from the orchestra members who were performing for the students.  We all agreed – and it shouldn’t be this way.  The orchestra members should consider these audiences to be their bread and butter.  These young people are the future audiences for symphonic music.

Are there any orchestral musicians out there?  If so, I’d love to hear your thoughts on performing these types of “kiddy concerts.”  After all, this is the future of our patron base – shouldn’t we approach these performances with greater enthusiasm and an understanding that these may in fact be the very people who sustain orchestras well into the future?

If we are going to influence policy, who do we need to sell on the benefits of string and orchestral music education to do so?  Who are the people who, on all levels, would be our best advocates? 

I would hypothesize that the answer can be found in the last two words of this second principle – “thriving communities.”  Take a look at the communities where the arts play a key roll in the health of the area.  Those are the communities that understand the importance of the cultural element.  My own current hometown of Gadsden, Alabama, is a perfect example.  The downtown area, once despondant and going the way of many small downtowns in the United States, has enjoyed a resurgence in the past 20 years, including occupancy rates over 80% and a monthly downtown festival, First Friday, that is ranked among the best in the Southeast.  When did the change occur?  When the Mary G. Hardin Center for Cultural Arts became the occupant of an otherwise vacant department store in the heart of downtown.

So the theory?  Find the thriving communities, and you will find the arts.  Then find the leaders in those communities who are the supporters of the arts, and you will find those who will influence policy on a larger scale.

Now, how do we sell music education, and specifically string and orchestral music education, as a core component of a well-rounded education?  This is a more difficult task.  I think you would be hard-pressed to find anyone who would come right out and say that music education is not important – what a terrible political move that would be!  But how do we get beyond lip service and find those who will actually take action?

Hand in hand with that is the question of exactly how much music should be required, and what should the requirements present.  I’d love to hear some thoughts regarding this and the national standards – what is your opinion?

First, ASTA’s vision includes “providing access to strings and orchestra for all children, protecting these programs from economic uncertainty, and teaching members how to advocate for these programs.”  That’s a tall order.  It’s not that string music educators aren’t up to the task, and it’s not that it’s too much to ask.  Those of us in the profession are doing this every day, to a certain extent.  Some of us are doing more than others – but that’s not the fault of those who are doing less.  The truth of the matter is that many younger members of our profession aren’t being taught how to advocate and how to fight for our programs.

The first thing on the chopping block when schools make cuts is always, it seems, the fine arts programs.  At least that is what we have been taught by our mentors, especially over the past 20 years.  Now, that doesn’t mean that it isn’t necessarily true.  However, it leads younger teachers to simply throw up their hands and see it as inevitable, instead of making a conscious effort to fight for their programs and, often, their jobs.

So the question, in my mind, is this – what can we be doing, on the collegiate level, to help our students better understand the NEED to advocate for their programs, and to teach our future educators how to fight for their programs, and in turn, the students in their schools who deserve the same opportunities that we have been given?

I would venture a guess that few music education courses teach future music educators how to write grants, or lobby a legislator, or make a presentation seeking funding to a local corporation.  As a group, we know that all students should have access to string programs.  There is no argument.  But what must we do, not to just to convince others, but to teach our future proponents HOW to convince others of the need for what we do?

I spent last week in Santa Clara, California, with 120 high school students from 32 states.  The event was the National High School Honors Orchestra, and I had the honor of serving as the chair for the event.  With the help of a hand-picked staff of eleven of the best music educators (and dear friends) from all over the country, the guidance of the phenomenal Maestro Raymond Harvey, and lots of administrative assistance from the talented ASTA staff, we brought these 120 individuals together on Tuesday afternoon for a week that one student would later refer to as “one of the best experiences of my life.”

On Friday night, as we listened in wonder to these students performing Mahler’s Symphony No. 1, the “Titan,” in a concert that would be described by parents as “amazing,” “wonderful,” and more, I could not help but feel a renewed spark of energy and a bit of enlightenment.  “This,” I thought to myself,” is the future of strings, and of music education as a whole.”

Of course, at some point the afterglow fades away, and you are snapped back into reality, sometimes rather violently.  I received a message from a long-time friend of mine last night, a fellow trumpet player who works in the Chicago suburbs as a systems analyst for a large high school.  He needed my help – specifically, he needed data that reinforced the long-proven facts that students who participate in the arts perform better on standardized tests and in core curriculum classes.  His words – “stop me if you’ve heard this before.”  His daughter’s school system plans on cutting the fine arts curriculum to save money.  Here we go again.

So my question for today is this – after witnessing something like the performance of the National High School Honors Orchestra on Friday night, how could anyone justify cutting the fine arts from our schools?  Is the problem that not enough of our school administrators and school board members are witness to the positive impact that the fine arts are having on our students?  Perhaps the studies aren’t enough – maybe what we need to be doing as educators is ensuring that those who make these decisions have first-hand experiences as to the power and impact of the arts.  If you were in the audience on Friday night, there would be no way you could deny this.

So, how can we get our decision-makers directly involved in the experiences of our students?  Do we show up with instruments on doorsteps?  Any thoughts or ideas here?  Let’s hear about the things that work for you, so we can all share your success!