Thoughts on My learning Edges

These thoughts are very much in the realm of “stream of consciousness” – in other words, they are not edited and polished. Posting such writing in a public forum definitely brings me very close to my learning edge, but it suits the assignment.

For as long as I can remember I have loved to explore all things new and to learn. For equally as long, my most precarious learning edge has had to do with others’ expectations. Whenever I perceive that I am already expected to have a particular knowledge, understanding, or skill – yet in reality I have had no experience with the subject at hand – I shrink back from the freedom of experiment which how I most naturally learn. Interestingly, as I have become more aware of this, I have become far freer to proclaim present ignorance yet anticipation of learning.

As a horn player, I tend to be far too cautious – which can be a very crippling learning edge. I do not like to play too high. I do not like to play loudly [much]. I do not like to play too fast. Not only are these excellent reasons for me to not play trumpet, they can also be hindrances to learning new horn music which extends technique in each of these areas. Admitting that I do not like to play certain ways does not mean I am not willing to stretch myself. Decoding the newly emerging notational trends frustrates me because I am tied not only to the tyranny of the black dot – but to the classic black dot divided neatly into measured units regardless of meter. Jumping into a percussion ensemble during my last regular semester of undergraduate coursework was a critical step in pushing this particular edge further away.

This obviously relates to music since 1900 – especially music since 1970. Both interpreting and listening to music from this most recent time period does push me very close to my learning edge. Sometimes some new music takes an incredible amount of concentration for me to listen to because it is a vocabulary I do not interpret quickly. Yet as I look ahead and can see the edge and the danger, I can also sense the freedom and exhilaration which could be mind if I am willing to step just a bit closer – then another bit closer. It fascinates me that stretching in this way does not make the old edge less interesting. Rather it infuses the familiar with a renewed energy and opens my ears to hear “old” music through an expanded filter.

My personal experience with music since 1900 has included not only a number of pieces for solo horn or chamber ensemble but also works for orchestra and concert band. While taking MUS 505 last semester, I had opportunity to revisit works by Ives and Riley and Reich and Stravinsky and Schoenberg and many others which I had first been introduced to during undergraduate classes. These revisited tunes gave way to new pieces which broadened for me the scope of what “new” music can mean. More and more as I listen to music from this present day, I understand more clearly the connection of music as a cultural art form, a timely cultural representation for future generations. My first hearing of John Adams’ On the Transmigration of Souls on NPR probably more than anything else precipitated this awareness.

Perhaps in this class we need to be innovative learners to understand what makes a particular composer an innovator. I do not believe that all good composers are innovators; I do not believe that all innovative composers are good composers. I believe that innovation comes in many forms. I also believe that we do not need to define for this class exactly what American means in terms which brings all to agreement.