Giving up lessons

It is perhaps not surprising that the group had on the whole negative

things to say about the tuition they received on instruments that were subsequently given up. However, their accounts are often no more positive when describing tuition on instruments they persisted with and clearly felt passionate about.

Some encountered teaching that was simply inappropriate, and which

attempted to make them learn things that they werenʼt ready or willing to learn. While Ed was still a relative beginner on the guitar, he was well aware that his teacher was aiming much too high: ʻI said to him: “Youʼre teaching me too complex stuff, you need to go simpler” but he wouldnʼt simplify it...so I didnʼt learn anythingʼ. He nevertheless continued to learn the guitar, but on his own terms, primarily to accompany himself as a singer.

Andy was unique within the group in that he had lessons on his chosen

instrument from an early age, which continued throughout his school career. He recalled his earliest memories of listening to music as a very young child,

singing along and ʻimitatingʼ what he heard, as well as experimenting on the piano at home. His ʻearʼ was sufficiently developed that when formal piano lessons began at the age of seven, there was already a conflict of interest between himself and his piano teacher:

I can remember thinking, discovering for myself that as soon as I knew

how the tune went, I was fine, I didnʼt needed to bother, borrow, bother

with this stuff written down on paper any more, thank goodness...But I was

always persuaded that I really should know what was going on on the

paper. [Andy]

He also, if inadvertently, made a distinction between the enjoyment of

performing and entertaining, as opposed to the tasks associated with lessons:

I used to practise in the dining hall where there was a piano, where we

used to have our little junior school assemblies, and when I went there

up and tidying and cleaning and I used to entertain - I used to do my bit of

practice and then Iʼd entertain them with chopsticks and they thought that

was great [laughter]. [Andy]

Neither he nor his teacher regarded piano lessons as particularly successful, though he has subsequently gone on to a career as a pianist and singer, working almost entirely by ear.

Helen, having got to grips with the recorder, progressed onto clarinet when

she was around 9 years old:

Helen: My mum took me to a teacher, a private teacher; donʼt think I went

for very long, probably five or six times, just to this guyʼs house. I would

have needed that cos of the difference fingering-wise and all these extra

keys, but then I just went for it, just got really into it.

Q: So you didnʼt carry on having lessons after that?

Helen: No...I mean, to get the technique for sure, initially I had that little run of lessons, and then I think to be honest I got a bit bored of what - there was the Associated Board route, that I really wasnʼt interested in. Iʼd

sort of learned how you can read music off a stave by this point but wasnʼt

interested in theory in the slightest, and I think I was kind of a bit “anti”, if Iʼm honest, because the way I liked to play things was picking it out by

ear...You know, once I knew where all the notes were, and I knew that

youʼre not supposed to puff your cheeks out cos you look like an idiot, and

no you donʼt need a strap for it, once I knew all that then I was happy to go

off and do it by ear.

She seemed to have taken what she wanted from lessons to help her learn in a way that suited her rather than her teacher. Her teacherʼs agenda - ʻthe

Associated Board routeʼ - did not appeal at all.

It could appear that these are typical examples of classical teachers trying to force ʻpopularʼ musicians to abandon learning by listening and imitating, and instead learn in a traditional, ʻformalʼ way - that is to say, by studying technique, scales and exercises, and pieces from the classical repertoire. This does indeed seem to have been partly the case (Green, 2002: 134-135 gives similar

examples). However, the ʻformalityʼ of music lessons was occasionally not the reason why lessons were reported negatively, nor why they were abandoned; indeed, some gave examples of tuition that wasnʼt, as it were, formal enough.

Dave and Bill both struggled long and hard with the technical aspects of their instruments (piano and double bass respectively) and both tried repeatedly to find appropriate help. Bill was already a full-time professional double bass player before, at the age of ʻ23 or 24ʼ, he first went for lessons. Despite attempts with a series of teachers, no one seemed to be able to give him the advice he needed to improve his sound, and in particular his bowing technique. Eventually he reached a point of despair where he even considered giving up playing altogether: ʻI was having a rotten time playing...didnʼt know what I was doing wrongʼ. Bill was the only musician to express any suggestion that they might give up playing for any reason. Only relatively recently had he been able to find an excellent teacher with the expert advice that he was looking for.

Dave also felt adrift; being unable to afford regular lessons he taught himself with occasional help and advice from friends. On the one occasion he went to a recognised piano teacher, she took one look at his home-made technique and said: ʻit's too much work, I can't teach youʼ. He subsequently passed his grade exams (up to and including grade 8) without ever having had a ʻformalʼ piano lesson, but:

Even at university no one told me how I should play the piano, there was

no technical element to it...No one said, you know, you should flatten your fingers, or round your hands..., had to work it all out yourself. [Dave]

Both Bill and Dave felt they missed out on a solid, technical grounding in their instrument that good formal tuition might have provided.

Frank reported going for lessons with a well-known harmonica player to

learn how to play the blues. These lessons were ʻinformalʼ to the point of comedy, and offer an example of the idea of ʻauthenticityʼ referred to earlier:

I was pleased to get away from the formal side of things, but it doesn't

really help if you go around for a lesson and the chap says: “Right, you

want a beer?” [laughter]...And my questions to him were: “That's brilliant, how dʼyou do it?” And he would just say: “I don't know man, I just do it”; so: “Okay, what shall I - how do I play the blues?” “Well just play what you

This was certainly more entertaining, and perhaps more inspiring, than his ʻformalʼ trumpet lessons, but was not particularly helpful in practical terms.

There were therefore implications that some teachers might be very good

at playing but not very good at teaching. There were also suggestions that teachers might not be equipped to teach everything their pupils needed to know. For example, Bill had vast experience of working with drummers in a rhythm section, whether performing rock, jazz or in musical theatre, playing which required a particular kind of awareness of the nuances of rhythmic ʻfeelʼ. All the double bass teachers he had been to see were classical, orchestral players and he felt that none had any experience, or even awareness, of this particular kind of listening and playing.

It is also noteworthy how willing these learners were to seek tuition. Some of them increasingly felt the need for expert advice as they developed (and wanted to develop further), but others looked for teachers for help right from the start. Carl described how he initially had no idea what to do with his new banjo, which sat in his bedroom for ʻthree or four monthsʼ: ʻI didn't know how it was tuned, I didn't even know what the style of music that I was listening to [was called], I didn't know any of thatʼ. Trying to learn from a book was not a success, while listening to records gave him a better ʻfeelʼ for what he was ʻtrying to doʼ rather than ʻactually how to do itʼ; it was only through a fortunate meeting with a teacher that he got the ʻkick startʼ that he needed. Similarly Frank bought a book along with his first harmonica, but went for lessons as soon as he could.

In discussing the groupʼs experiences of being taught, it is important to stress how little tuition, on the whole, they received. Most of them reported occasional, short phases of tuition, interspersed with periods of intense and largely solitary practice. Since I was expressly looking to interview ʻself-taughtʼ players, it is hardly surprising that these musicians had on the whole minimal experience of lessons. On the other hand, since they all agreed to this

description of themselves, I was somewhat taken aback to find that they had all had at least some lessons - several had had a significant amount. It could be

suggested that some of them might have misunderstood my invitation to take part in the study.

However, the question of what it means to be ʻself-taughtʼ is a complex

one, and members of the group expressed a variety of opinions on the subject, occasionally contradicting themselves in the process. For example, Dave described himself as ʻself-taughtʼ on the piano; however elsewhere in the interview he denied that that he taught himself to play ʻbecause youʼre constantly watching and getting ideas off other peopleʼ. If we agree with this view, then no one is truly self-taught, since we all rely on others for information and inspiration. The groupʼs accounts certainly included talk of learning by watching and listening to other musicians. In contrast, both Ed and Frank explicitly stated that teaching is only to help a process of self-tuition ʻcos a teacher doesnʼt teach the person, they teach the person to teach themselves when the teacherʼs not thereʼ [Ed].

Purser (2005: 293) finds similar opinions being expressed by the teachers

he interviews. The implication of this idea is that, to a considerable degree, everyone is self-taught. Moreover, as these accounts strongly suggest, simply because one is being taught does not necessarily mean that one is learning anything.

It could be argued that the idea of being ʻself-taughtʼ is ambiguous, and was perhaps not the best criterion I could have chosen to select volunteers for this project; nonetheless I think they were all justified in including themselves. They were not self-taught in the sense that they had no tuition whatsoever, but they were certainly in charge of their own learning, and decided themselves what and how to learn. I would suggest that the phrase ʻself-directed learnersʼ describes this group better. The tuition they received, whether helpful or not, seemed to be only part of a process which was going to happen anyway.

It is therefore important to distinguish between successful learning and

successful teaching. All the musicians in this group could be said to be ʻsuccessfulʼ learners in that their persistence in playing an instrument has

resulted in high levels of competence and indeed some form of career. However not all the teaching they received - even on their chosen instruments - was reported as successful; far from it. In fact, in some cases it could be said that they persevered with learning their instruments despite the tuition they were getting rather than because of it. Where the experience of having lessons was not giving them what they wanted, these learners gave up the lessons rather than the instrument.

The importance of choice is evident in the groupʼs experiences of both

learning and being taught. Typically, lessons on instruments that were given up began at an early age, perhaps before they had any particular passion to learn. While none of them reported being forced to go against their will, there was a sense that in many cases the decision to start learning these instruments was not made actively by the learners themselves. Only Bill described making a conscious choice to volunteer for lessons; they generally reported simply having lessons without necessarily accounting for how or why this happened. The implication was that, although presumably willing, they were to some extent ʻsentʼ by their parents. Moreover, the act of going to a teacher signified the start of learning; on these instruments, learning was from the outset inextricably linked to being taught.

This contrasts sharply with their reports of taking up instruments they persisted with. In almost every case, this was described as a conscious

decision, and the expression of a powerful urge to learn. This often happened at a later age, when they were perhaps more able to make such decisions

autonomously, and resulted in learning which seemed independent of the tuition they received. Some of this tuition proved very useful, some of it no help at all, but only Bill suggested that lack of good teaching might influence his decision to continue playing his instrument. Moreover, apart from Andy all of them actively sought tuition after they had chosen the instrument they wanted to play and had already started to play it, in some cases for many years. If the experience of these learners is typical, being taught an instrument that one has not chosen oneself leads to very low levels of interest and motivation. Conversely, actively

choosing to learn, and doing so on oneʼs own terms, is associated with very high levels of enthusiasm and a long-term commitment to music making.