Teaching as an Art (and the razzle dazzle of performance)
When I was growing up in the 80s and 90s,
the term piano pedagogy was pretty much non-existent in the vernacular and just
by virtue of being employed by Yamaha Music School, one was already seen as a
legitimate music teacher. Today the term seems to be more foregrounded due to
the efforts of one individual backed and endorsed by a prominent piano dealer,
to circulate and champion the cause of piano pedagogy in Singapore, by
encouraging Grade 8 teachers to “upgrade” themselves. In the Austrian
university system, the school teaching, solo performance and instrumental
pedagogy tracks are clearly differentiated with several music school systems
across the provinces that insist on an applicant having a pedagogy degree as a
license to teach. My Chinese friends however, report that the situation there is
the reverse, where the performance graduates are perceived as the more
desirable and sought-after teachers. My sense is that the perception in
Singapore is quite the same as in China, where many believe in the mantra of
“Those who can, do (perform). Those who can’t, teach”. It’s an unfair division,
as it implies that there are naturally expressive imaginative artists on one
end, and critical pedantic teachers at the other end of the scale. Because of
wanting to portray a certain image associated with the glamour of being a
concert pianist, some of my former university schoolmates ended up doing
makeover photo shoots in evening gown with the piano.
I’ve also heard stories of disgruntled
performers who once had great dreams and ambitions of making it big on stage,
but never did and thus had to fall back onto teaching. In the long run, they ended
up infecting all their students with their own sense of malcontent and failure. I’m happy to say that I was never one of
those types, and would also urge students and parents not to pick a teacher
primarily based on one’s reputation as a stage performer. In fact, I would like
to assert that teaching as an art in itself that encompasses an additional set
of skills (communication, the ability to positively motivate and inspire others
etc.) that the performer does not have to possess. The impact of bad teaching
is immeasurable and the result is long lasting collateral damage, while the impact
of a mediocre performance might just be foregone opportunity cost on activities
that could have made for a more inspired evening. More than anything else, a
great teacher’s reputation rests upon the kind of students he nurtures and
grooms.
The legendary Heinrich Neuhaus (1888-1964)
who taught Sviatoslav Richter, Emil Gilels, and Radu Lupu among many other
great musicians, had some interesting points to make about teachers, the types
of teachers, and how this intersects with performance:
“though the teacher-performer offers a number
of undoubted advantages compared to one who is a teacher only- and first of all
the advantages of being a living example- yet, to a certain extent, one who is
purely a teacher appears in a way to be more of a piece. His life and
profession seem unwaveringly directed at a single aim merely because, to put it
bluntly, he has never had to sit on two chairs. He devotes himself entirely to
his pupils, and only to his pupils, demanding nothing for himself. If a
performer is overloaded with teaching work he is conscious at every moment of
the harm which this excessive workload causes to his favourite occupation, that
of performing. And even if this awareness does not have a negative effect on
his teaching, it inevitably affects his morale. Even before he realises it,
dark minor tonalities creep into his heart. Happily these vague feelings do not
disturb the heart of a pure teacher. A psychologist said that a real teacher
assesses himself seriously only from the point of view of his pupils. For a performer
this is unthinkable”.
I teach from my home-based studio and it is
an honour and serious undertaking to be in this profession. I feel a sense of
indignation and annoyance when people think that 10 students a week equals to
ten teaching hours and they ask me with, “what on earth do you do every day?”
There are issues and questions that I grapple with on a daily basis:
Do I have sufficient knowledge with regards
to piano technique, musical structure, style, theory, historical knowledge,
harmony and form? What is my knowledge of the piano repertoire- or am I only
restricted to teaching pieces that I myself have played before? Have I played
similar repertoire that is on par in terms of complexity with what the student
has brought to me? Do I have to rely excessively on recordings to “learn” how a
piece sounds like or am I able to read and study the score? Am I aware of what
makes a performance outstanding and musically convincing? How much can this
particular student accomplish and how can I help him/her to maximise potential
and to do more? Am I spoon-feeding my student by giving him/her all the
solutions and unintentionally encouraging passivity and mindless imitation? Am
I empowering my student to be an active listener and critic of his/her own
music-making, encouraging my student to develop a sense of taste and sound
musical judgment? As an individual, am I stagnant and complacent, recycling
pieces that I have taught dozens of times or am I open-minded and committed to
developing myself personally and artistically by learning and exploring new
repertoire?
It is another dismal and tragic outcome
that some teachers in Singapore are promoting themselves as gifted educators
capable of sending young students to perform in prestigious concert venues such
as Carnegie Hall. (On that note: beware of charlatan music teachers with no
degree who charge $200/hour). I find this phenomenon completely abhorrent,
especially when many of these performance festivals do not even have any
stringent criteria of screening applicants, simply granting podium space to
anyone who is willing to pay $100 a minute to perform and to buy up a good
number of tickets to fill up the hall. A few months ago, I met someone whose
teenage son (with singing abilities many light years away from the young
Christian Immler) had performed there and I ask myself, what kind of self-created myths and
self-delusional bubbles are people creating for themselves by paying heaps of
money to fly to the East Coast and perform in a venue associated with
luminaries such as Vladimir Horowitz and David Oistrakh? What kind of perverse
logic is this to say, I performed in
Carnegie Hall and therefore I am good. It’s a free market and venues are
available for rent but we need to be more discerning and critical of these
pay-to-perform festivals. How far is one
willing to go, to pay in order to enhance one’s CV in such a manner?
The obsession with showcasing talent is
especially pronounced in Asia. There exists a pool of parents and students who
are ambitious and eager to sweep up as many accolades and prizes like a
racehorse, which has given rise to the many performance festivals and
competitions around the region (where students can even using ABRSM exam pieces
to compete). Music schools and music teachers showcase their students on social
media ad nauseam, often regardless of
their ability and quality and some teachers keep a stranglehold over their
students. I recently spoke to a mother who complained incessantly about her
children’s existing piano teacher not giving them a proper foundation, made
plans to transfer them to my studio, but later informed me that she couldn’t
transfer since they were committed to competitions later in the year under
their previous teacher, but that she wanted to hire me as a shadow teacher
anyway to prepare her son right away on his Grade 8 examination pieces, in
spite of him having played virtually nothing since his Grade 6. I said no, and
that was the end of our correspondence. When trust is irrevocably broken and
when one demonstrates hypocrisy and cowardice, there is no turning back. It is
a blessing in disguise when things don’t work out.
It is an increasingly cluttered world we
live in and it’s a pity that the music industry is going in a direction that is
losing contact with the essence of music itself, and I urge all parents and
students to have a realistic set of expectations (and their own limitations,
while striving to overcome them) as it’s so easy to be swept away by
vainglorious, inconsequential and meaningless pursuits ostensibly for music’s
sake.
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