Dalcroze in Theory/Practice

I offer this entry as the first in what I hope will become a well-established feature of Dalcroze Connections. The goal is to create an online forum for members to hold ongoing discussions about the ways we theorize our practice, and, conversely, the ways our actions in the classroom, studio, and clinic actualize the principles that give this work—and its practitioners—their distinctive character. It will also appear on the DSA website as a blog with a comments option.

Going forward, what will the column look like, and how it will play out over several issues of this publication? I can’t say. I can, however, put my best foot forward here and hope the result sets us in the right direction. For this issue of Dalcroze Connections, I’ll feature an item one might consider an “outtake” from another effort, but which in fact draws from the same source from which it, too, sprang.

Last year, Jeremy Dittus and I began work on a project that’s intended to clarify the relationship between “product” and “process” in our practice. We gave a presentation on this very subject at the International Congress in Geneva last July. In part as a result of the interest (read: controversy) this talk prompted, Paul Hille asked us to submit our conclusions to FIER’s annual publication Le Rythme.¹ The material below is one of several pieces of content from the first draft of the extended piece Jeremy Dittus and I sent Paul, content we extracted because we exceeded our word count.

But what’s FIER? To us it’s the International Federation of Eurhythmics Teachers; but the acronym comes from the French version of this wording: La Fédération Internationale des Enseignants de Rythmique. En français, the word “fier” means “proud”: The phrase “fier d’être français” means, literally, “proud to be French.” According to Wikipedia, it is “the only association representing and supporting the teaching of Rhythmic Education internationally.” It goes on to clarify that the organization’s activities include:

• [Hosting] international conferences, exhibitions, and shows in collaboration with the Institut Jaques-Dalcroze.
• [Sustaining] an Information Centre (Secretariat) that conducts the work of researching and documenting Rhythmic Education.
• [Publishing] an annual bulletin in English, French, German, and other languages: Le Rythme, as well as a bibliography, and brochures (eg -Histoires Then and now -Hellerau-Symposion) on the development of rhythm in different countries).
• Maintaining an annual list of courses, congresses, and vocational schools in the world of rhythm [conducted] around the world.

F.I.E.R. maintains a generally open-minded stance toward different manifestations of “Rhythmic Education,” or what we in the English-speaking world refer to as Eurhythmics. This is in part because ever since Emile Jaques- Dalcroze left Hellerau, Germany in 1914, the German-speaking world’s approach to the practice evolved differently from that which developed at the Institute in Geneva. Parsing F.I.E.R.’s website’s description of Eurhythmics in this light is instructive. Consider this statement: “Rhythmic Education, a form of music/movement education based on the Dalcroze method, owes its development and its spread to several generations of ‘rhythmicians.’ The federation works with the Jaques-Dalcroze Institute in Geneva, and with international organizations for cultural and educational purposes.” Our very own Eiko Ishizuka, DSA Trustee and candidate for the Diplôme Supérieur, was appointed to FIER’s board this summer at the organization’s general meeting.

What is the relationship between the DSA and FIER? Each participating country provides one delegate that represents its community of practice. We represent the American practice of Eurhythmics in FIER. We pay dues to be a member, to the order of seven Swiss Franc per DSA member. Consequently, all of our members are de facto members of FIER. Paul Hille, the newly elected President of FIER has taught in the United States, most recently at CMU’s annual Immersion Weekend, and we will no doubt hear more from and about him. He has generously agreed to offer his thinking about FIER in an interview for a future issue of Dalcroze Connections. In addition to issuing its primary annual publication Le Rythme, FIER has also published informative books on the practice including the Chemin de Rythmique series.

For this instance of Dalcroze in Theory/in Practice, I will refer to the section of our essay “Notes Inégales” devoted to the matter of pacing. Consider the following questions, which also appear in Le Rythme 2015:

• How do we assess the student’s performance in a given activity? How much of the assessment focuses on:
  • Precision?
  • Accuracy?
  • Musicality?
  • Expression?
  • Comfort?
  • Self-confidence?
  • Flow (as a function of mind/body integration)?
• Which of the above factors does the teacher need to observe and address before moving on to a new activity, and which of them influence the teacher’s decision regarding how long students should continue in a given activity?
• What is the next step in the lesson if:
  • The students haven’t yet achieved the lesson’s pedagogical goal, but are showing signs of being tired or restless?
  • The teacher wants to move on to the next activity, but the students don’t feel they have mastered the skill?
• To what extent, and in what particular ways, does a teacher
  • Ignore certain errors of execution and prioritize other concerns instead?
  • Correct the students’ execution, redirecting their attention to details of their performance and negotiating students’ [self-] exigency or commitment to exacting standards?
• When within a limited time span, how do we deal with the delicate balance between giving students critical formative experiences and ending on time?
• What is the appropriate decision when a teacher is running out of time in a workshop, the participants have not met the teacher’s goals, and the teacher wants to arrive at a piece of music or in some other ways culminate the workshop in that crucial “theory-follows-practice” moment?

In the essay, Jeremy and I reflect as follows:

We have all been in situations where these or related concerns arise and we have to reconsider the class’s or workshop’s direction and pace. The general circumstances (skill level of the students or participants, time allotment, workshop or ongoing class, etc.) and various other factors, such as training and cultural background, will certainly influence our decision. But our orientation towards process and product will also necessarily come into play. Furthermore, in a workshop, class, or teaching jury, one’s judgment of the teacher’s or trainee’s pedagogical choices may depend on the perspective from which he or she is experiencing them, whether as participant, student, or examiner.

With so many variables to take into account, the authors do not presume to offer a definitive answer as to the “correct” balance between process and product. But clearly pacing is a core topic for Dalcroze educators involving complex negotiations among several factors reaching well beyond simplistic binary constructions, either of “product” and “process” or of content- versus student-orientated teaching approaches into subtle distinctions among different modes and phases of assessing student learning, such as diagnostic, formative, and summative assessment. Perhaps because Dalcroze teachers learn intuitively how to pace our lessons, responding to innumerable cues both obvious and subtle—many of which we may perceive subconsciously—we tend to approach this topic subjectively. Consequently, discussions among colleagues about pacing can end inconclusively, rather than bringing us closer to a consensus, as they will largely hinge on each individual instructor’s personal taste and perspective.

I will end this installment of “Dalcroze in Theory/in Practice” somewhat inconclusively, in the spirit of open-ended inquiry, with Jeremy’s personal reflections on this whole question of pacing, and how questions of product and process can play out in different settings:

In workshops I tend to focus less on the precision of students’ performance, and I’m less concerned with their self-exigency (i.e. their holding themselves to a higher standard). I focus more on how they’re learning concepts X, Y, or Z, and on giving them a musically nurturing way in. So, while their performance is important, it’s not as important as their personal experience, which needs to be positive and invigorating. I’m also more supportive and encouraging.

As a result, I might spend much more time exploring a topic in a general way, rather than getting into specific details of variance and unique application. Last year, for example, I taught a class on beat, division, and multiple in three-four time for a rather small workshop of just eight general music education teachers.

We were doing a verbal reaction game with a ball. They were to show the beats in 3-time using the ball in their own way, but always bouncing the ball on beat one. If I called out a number, they were to perform two eighth notes on that beat of the measure. So, for example, if I called, “ONE,” the students would have to show two-eighths with the ball on beat 1, etc.

I’ve used this game many times without issue. [Question: When you called out “one,” were the students supposed to perform two short bounces to show the subdivided beat on the crusis?] And most of the group was doing fine. But one student—let’s call her Sandra—was having trouble following the changes.

I gently corrected her mistakes, but she still didn’t get it. She grew increasingly more frustrated, to the point where I had to stop the activity.

We switched to a completely different way of tackling the same rhythmic problem, sitting down and using chopsticks as miniature claves. The students would tap the beats in 3-time, performing beat 1 on the floor, beat 2 on their knees, and beat 3 in the air. If I called out a number, they were to perform two eighth notes on that beat of the measure. So, for example, if I called, “ONE,” the students would tap twice on the floor to show the two eighths, etc.

Without feeling singled out, Sandra eventually got the activity, and I could tell from her reactions that she felt successful. And all of the students learned a different way of knowing this subject. When we returned to the ball activity Sandra was able to do it successfully. Finally, we ended up stepping these different rhythms while clapping the beat as a dissociation.

We talked briefly about basic ideas in stepping rhythms to create good flow, but not in much detail. I had wanted to arrive at a piece of music, so the teachers could see a first-hand example of all that they had just done. But because we had spent so much time on these rhythms, we didn’t have much time left.

I had planned a small folk dance for the teachers to move. Instead, we just listened to the piece and followed along in the score. We remarked how the composer used the rhythms, and how they helped to shape the form and structure of the piece. In this example, I focused much more on the process than the product, which is generally how I tend to treat workshop teaching. Now, if I had done the exact same exercise with my professional studies students who are studying to be Dalcroze teachers, I doubt that I would have conducted the class in the same way. With students in these classes, I might have broken the original ball activity down into smaller components, ensuring that students’ gestures coordinated with the music exactly. I would expect the energy, tempo, and nuance of the music to be in harmony with their bodies. When we stepped the rhythms, I would insist on arm beats, excellent flow, and appropriate balance of the body in performing these rhythmic cells. I would require the students to show the length of the long notes with continuous motion so that the movement would not be static. In essence, with a different audience, my pacing is remarkably different, and this ultimately affects my teaching style.