Los Ciegos Músicos - Daniel Vazquez Diaz, 1921
Keyboard instruction of blind musicians relies much more upon the careful selection and occasional modification of
techniques used with sighted students than it does upon the cultivation of new techniques. In support of this viewpoint, we sight a remark made by Edward Isaacs, a
British concert pianist and teacher of this century who was blinded in the middle of his career. In A Handbook for Blind Teachers of Music (London: Royal National
Institute for the Blind, 1945) he states: "When I knew my sight was gradually leaving me for good I told myself that I must learn to play and to teach anew.
By the time I
was able to reappear in public, encouraged thereto by many opinions that I need not ask for allowances to be made on account of my blindness, I discovered that I had not
learnt anew, but that I had simply adapted all the principles and habits of good sighted playing and teaching to my new condition" Of course, in selecting and adapting "the
principles and habits of good sighted playing," one must remember that just as no two sighted people come to an instrument equally equipped in talent and skill, neither
do any two blind people. This can be disconcerting to anyone seeking an easy teaching formula, but it can be an exciting venture which challenges both teacher and student
to evaluate previous methods of instruction and to explore new ones. The teacher who expects and engenders responsibility, confidence, initiative, and creative problem
solving in all students, whether blind or not, increases the student's chances of success in the music world and in the world at large. The area of mobility offers an
excellent example of the correlation between improved attitudes of self and improved keyboard proficiency. In observing blind keyboard students, we have seen an uncanny
relationship between one's ability to travel freely and without fear and the relative freedom a student posssses in "getting around" the piano or the organ console.
We
would like to suggest two reasons for this apparent connection. By developing good mobility skills, the blind student need not rely on another person for matters as
simple as locating the piano in his teacher's studio to those as involved as attending concerts on his own, getting to the library, and, in short, participating fully in
musical events. We suggest that the confidence that comes from this kind of self-reliance will carry over into one's methods of study and manner of playing. The second
reason for this connection between mobility and keyboard proficiency is much more overt.
The cultivation of space perception or the ability to judge distances will have
an obvious effect upon keyboard instrumentalists. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the matter of negotiating leaps. True, many sighted players will assure you that
they never watch their hands while they play. Most, however, when pressed will finally admit that, although they do not look over ninety percent of the time, they are
most likely to take a quick glance before a crucial jump in order to gauge the distance.
The proficient blind pianist or organist will compensate by developing a mental
picture of the keyboard. The development of this mental image, complete with all the appropriate spacial relationships, is an arduous task which must assume maximum
importance from the very first lesson. To be sure, the techniques are precisely those used with sighted students; the only difference may be in the degree of strict
adherence to them. The student cannot develop good perception if allowed to sit improperly at the instrument. Teachers should be particularly aware of the tendency of
some blind players to sit too close to the piano. This may be due to a fear of losing physical contact with the instrument.
Still another bad habit requiring immediate
correction is that of feeling for the notes at a crucial jump. This is cheating and cannot be permitted despite all manner of protests by the student; if it is tolerated,
it will reduce greatly or even eliminate the student's chances of developing spacial judgement. Moreover, if a blind pianist is busy feeling for notes, he will have
compromised any proper attack of the note after the leap.
Organists, equipped with a good piano background, should already have confronted this problem before arriving at
the console. However, there are new spacial relationships to develop here, and these must be treated in the same way. The teacher should discourage the blind student from
"checking out the scenery along the way" when making manual jumps, reaching for stops, changing pistons or developing pedal technique. There are some practical
suggestions for iimproving keyboard mobility. At the risk of making our point too strongly, we remind you that none of these are techniques foreign to the sighted student.
One should always be conscious of where the thumb is. The thumb is important not only in balancing the hand during performance, but also in serving as a reference against
which the spacing of the other fingers is measureed. Thus, for example, if one wished to land upon the fourth finger after a leap, he should prepare the thumb as well as
that finger. In establishing any distance, whether it be between two notes or in locating a stop or piston, the student should move swiftly and assertively to the desired
note, stop, et cetera, making certain to follow the most direct path it, before touching it. Only when the leap has been executed accurately should the student play the
note or pull the stop. This practice method forces the one to think about what one is doing and should help to eliminate wild, haphazard movements whose poor results can
only serve to undermine confidence. In performance, this method will take on the form of one consolidated movement. In confronting a variety of organ consoles whose
dispositions differ strikingly, a blind organist must learn to make constant use of this procedure. Because, however, organists often do not receive as much time to
adjust to a new instrument as would be ideal, they must decide which risks to take in practice and which they will not take in performance.
One very effective way in
which our teacher, Andre Marchal, simplified adjustment to a new console was to chart the location of pistons by means of notes on the manual. Thus, he might note that
Swell 1 sat directly below the D adjacent to middle C on the swell, that Swell 2 was below F, Swell 3 below A, and so on. We used to think this was one example of a
technique developed especially for the blind. However, we later learned from William Hays and Eugene Roan who, at the time, were members of the organ faculty at
Westminster Choir College, that Alexander MacCurdy used precisely this method with his sighted students at the Curtis Institute of Music. Already, we have mentioned the
bearing that a blind person's self image is likely to have upon the success rate as a keyboard student. Now, let us turn our attention to some poorly conceived images of
blindness harbored by many sighted people. There are two such misconceptions most prevalent among the sighted; both seem to stem from feelings of fear or inadequacy which
the unimpaired person imagines he would have if he were to lose his sight, suddenly.
This kind of projection is most often erroneous since it is applicable neither to the
situation of the many visually impaired people who were born blind and who never had to make an adjustment to the loss of sight, nor to that of many others who lost their
vision at an early age and who were flexible enough to learn new ways of accomplishing those things important to their lifestyles. People who represent the first of the
two falacious points of view assume that, due to a disability, a person without sight cannot be expected to perform as well as his sighted colleagues, or that, if he does
as well as they, he is worthy of greater admiration for his accomplishments despite greater adversity.
Those who favor the other misconception see blind people as endowed
with inherently better senses of hearing and touch and a higher spirituality to compensate for their lack of vision. Perhaps this is why in Greek mythology, blind people
are seen as prophets and poets -- that is, those blind people who were not left as babies to die on the Acropolis. In this category are those who expect blind people
necessarily to be better musicians with perfect pitch, greater aural retention, and greater facility in ear-training. To follow this line of thinking confuses talent,
which is endowed with acuity, which is developed. Basing your approach to a blind student upon either of these misconceptions may, in the final analysis, jeopardize your
effectiveness as a teacher. Some concerns of sighted teachers about teaching a blind student result not so much from misguidance as from anxiety of the unknown. "Should I
avoid references to sight?" and "How do I know if I'm offering too little or too much help to a blind person?" are two questions reflecting this anxiety. In almost every
case, there is no need to guard against "sight" words in speaking with your blind student. Struggling to avoid phrases like "take a look at your score," or "do you see
what I mean?" only wastes time and energy which could be spent better in teaching; it also tells the student that you feel terribly uncomfortable. When situations arise
that seem to warrant special attention, and you feel uncertain of how to approach them, simply ask the student to tell you when, and in what ways you can be of most help.
This will eliminate unnecessary worry and second-guessing and will allow the student to be in charge of the situation.
Another possible cause for anxiety arises from the
greater need for physical contact between the teacher and the blind student. Quite simply, the reliance of a blind person upon touch as a primary medium for gathering
information challenges directly certain mores of our society which guard against physical contact. Once one has overcome this reticence, he will have opened up a new
channel of communication for all students, not only those who are blind. We cannot emphasize too strongly the importance of overcoming this barrier. In being comfortable
enough to establish a good physical rapport, the teacher and student will be able to shorten and clarify many pedagogical explanations immeasurably through "modelling"
and "positioning." In "modelling," the teacher assumes the desired posture which he or she wants to convey. The teacher, while holding the pose, can make pertinent
comments or ask questions such as: "notice where my elbows, are in relation to the rest of my body," or "do my shoulders feel relaxed to you?" In "positioning," the
student sits at the keyboard and the teacher moves the student into the correct posture or comments when a correct position has been achieved or lost. In this way, a
student can develop an awareness of his or her own posture and a sense of what feels correct. These methods can be of particular value in organ instruction where pedal
technique must be demonstrated.Communication by touch also serves as a tool for teaching blind students at those times when a teacher would have been inclined to conduct
a sighted student. While tapping on a table or snapping one's fingers can establish the beat, they contain no information between the beats. By tapping upon the student's
shoulder while the student is playing, the teacher can transmit not only the pulse, but also the mood of the piece by means of a light or heavy touch. This method is also
effective in discouraging rushing or lagging, in suggesting accentuation, and in outlining the shapes of phrases by indicating rubato or accelerando.
All that we have
discussed thus far presupposes the student's ability to learn the actual notes of the music by one means or another and the ability to retain that information. The
establishment of good habits of note-learning and memorizing are at least as crucial, if not more so, in the education of blind musicians than they are in the education
of sighted musicians. A sighted person can conceivably play without having memorized a score; a blind person cannot. Too often, teachers adhering to that old
misconception that all blind people have perfect pitch and superhuman ears allow their students to choose not to learn braille music notation. Consequently, these
students attempt to learn all of their music by various aural means. We will quickly point out that these aural means, when used in conjunction with a knowledge of
braille music, can be of great service. Used by themselves, however, they deprive the student of one of the best means of memorizing, (literal memory), force the student
to rely on someone else's interpretation, and offer less accurate information.
Let us examine these aural learning methods with an eye to their benefits and their
drawbacks. Certainly, the most commonly used aid is the commercial or home-made musical recording. Recordings can be quite useful in providing an overall sense of a piece,
serving as a substitute for sight-reading, since acquiring a cursory knowledge of a score by reading through it is not very practical in braille music. After the student
has begun the note learning process, however, he or she would be well advised to listen to the recording only sparingly, if at all. We offer this advice to guard against
the student becoming too strongly influenced by another's performance. At any rate, the recording will prove to be of little assistance in actually teaching the notes;
the performance simply moves too fast.
One can, however, borrow tapes from the National Library Service, Division for the Blind and Physically Handicapped which contain
keyboard works recorded at extremely slow speeds. These, we feel, might be of use to someone with a hobbyist's interest in playing the piano or organ, or as a temporary
method for teaching a recently blinded student.
In the long run, though, their reliance on a means less precise than actual notation for transmitting musical information
does not recommend them as a substitute for braille music. Homemade tapes can, however, provide a service for those who need to learn music which they do not care to
retain for a long time, and which they must learn quickly. A church organist, for example, may need to learn a hymn for the following Sunday and does not have the time to
locate a volunteer braille music transcriber. (Of course, with the development of braille music embossing software, the process of transcribing print music into braille
has become far more automated.) In making tapes for the purpose of learning a musical composition by ear, we have found it easiest to divide the piece into logical
sections and to subdivide those by determining what will be taken by the left hand and what by the right. That accomplished, one may proceed to record section one, left
hand followed by section one right hand, proceeding section by section until the entire work is on tape. In the event that there is a third staff for a pedal part, you
may choose to record it separately or--if you wish to save time and tape--withthe right hand. If you do it separately, record section one of the pedal part ahead of the
same section for the hands. Then continue in this fashion, section by section. We caution you not to record the pedal part with the left hand; occasionally, it becomes
difficult to distinguish the pedal from the left hand, since their registers often overlap. In dealing with chordal writing, try rolling the chords up from the bottom
note in the left hand and either up from the bottom or down from the top note in the right hand. This choice in the right hand parallels the two schools of thought which
exist in the transcription of right-hand chords into braille music. In the final analysis, it is merely a matter of preference on the part of the user of the tape.
During
lessons, a teacher can provide various degrees of aural assistance. It may be as little as teaching the student a measure or two by rote or as much as playing the entire
piece. In the latter instance, we urge you to reserve this practice for introducing a new piece and to refrain from playing it too often. This should be more a means of
supplementing learning by braille than teaching by ear. In fact, although any or all of these aural means may assist the student from time to time, they are no substitute
for a knowledge of the actual score. In our opinion, it is imperative that the student have a solid background in braille music notation if he or she is to function well
as a musician. The braille score provides a quick and easy reference when uncertainties arise concerning the notation. This is bound to happen since the student must
memorize all music before playing it. If a blind student with little or no facility in braille music notation should come to a teacher who does not possess this skill, we
recommend strongly that the teacher direct the student to someone who can offer solid braille music instruction. However, once students have the ability to decipher their
own music, there is no obstacle to their studying with a teacher who is unfamiliar with braille.
In such a situation, the student may refer to one of several
notation manuals in order to clarify an occasional problem. A few which we can recommend are the Primer of Braille Music, New Revised Edition, 1960 with 1971 addenda,
compiled by Edward W. Jenkins, the more extensive Revised International Manual of Braille Music Notation, 1956, compiled by H. V. Spanner, and the dictionary of braille
music compiled by Bettye Krolick. You may wish to contact the music section of The Library of Congress's national library service for the blind for more information by
calling 800-424-8567 or by visiting their web site. Legally blind, registered patrons may borrow music materials free of charge and may download any of
the library's music materials which have been produced in electronic braille format.
An important prerequisite for the study of braille music notation is a thorough,
working knowledge of literary braille; without it, the user has no way of reading the title, performance directions, or editorial comments. To be sure, the path to
proficiency in reading braille music is not one whose mastery can be taken as a light pastime; perhaps it is because of the rigors of the braille music system that
volunteer music transcribers are such a rare breed. Nevertheless, its challenge need not be an intimidating one. Students who understand the importance the notation will
play in facilitating their musical growth, will probably be able to make a greater effort and commitment to learning it. At this point, it seems fitting to discuss the
braille music system, briefly. The scope of this paper confines us to concepts which, by themselves are insufficient for instructional purposes; we merely intend to
introduce some basic principles that may be helpful in understanding the rest of this paper.
Let us begin by examining the braille cell, the building block of all braille
characters. Each braille cell contains six dots, arranged in two vertical columns of three dots. For identification purposes, we number these dots, one, two, three from
top to bottom in the left-hand column, and four, five, six from top to bottom in the right-hand column. Eighth notes require the use of only the four uppermost dots in
the cell, that is, dots one, two, four, and five. The particular combination determines the pitch of each eighth note. Thus, if we see dots one, four, five we know it is
c an eighth; if, instead, we read dots one and five we know it is d an eighth. The configuration, then, indicates both the pitch and the duration of the note. The
eighth-note patterns can be changed to quarters simply by adding dot six to them. Dot six, you will remember, is the bottom dot in the right-hand column. Whereas dots one,
four, and five connote c an eighth, dots one, four, five, and six comprise c a quarter. If instead of adding dot six, we had added dot three to the eighth-note patterns,
we would have half-notes; and if we had added both dots three and six, we would have whole notes. How do we create sixteenths and thirty-seconds, then? This is achieved
primarily through context. When there is more than one "whole note" in a four-four measure, for example, they are to be regarded as sixteenths rather than as whole notes.
In the same way, half notes become thirty-seconds when there are too many of them in a measure to be counted as halves. When both half notes and thirty-seconds exist
within the same measure, a sign must be placed in front of the half note to alert the reader that it should not be regarded as a thirty-second.
An octave sign must be
placed in front of the first note of a melodic line to indicate whether that note, (let's say "g" a quarter), is the first "g" above middle "c" or a "g" in some other
octave. On page ten of the braille edition of the 1960 Primer of Braille Music, the rules for octave markings are stated precisely as follows: "The first note of a melody
is always preceeded by an octave mark. Between notes, the step of a second interval or the skip of a third is not marked. . . A skip of a fourth or fifth is not marked
when its notes are in the same octave. . . A skip of a sixth or greater is always marked." In braille music, the lowest "c" on the piano is first octave "c"; middle "c"
is fourth octave "c," and so on. Just as the octave marking immediately preceeds the note, the fingering sign immediately follows it. There are numerous additional signs
to convey all the necessary accidentals, ornaments, and pedagogical markings. These appear in a specific order before and after the note in question.
Three examples of
pedagogical markings are string signs, organ pedal markings, and any information concerning phrasing and articulation. A couple of braille notation procedures resemble
print notation practices prevalent in the Baroque era. The braille equivalent to beaming reminds one a little of the Baroque performance practice called "notes inegales"
in that the notes on the paper are not meant to be played precisely as they appear. In braille, a group of four sixteenths beginning on the beat is written as a sixteenth
followed by three eighths, but it is played as four sixteenths beamed together. There are some exceptions to this rule which we shall not explore here. To write chordal
harmonies, the notation employs interval signs which follow the note and which indicate what note or notes sound along with the written note. A c major triad in root
position in the left hand might be written as third octave "c" a half, third interval sign, fifth interval sign. This method recalls to mind figured bass notation. Where
two or more contrapuntal parts occur in one hand, each is written out separately and connected to the others with a concordance sign. Strongly based, as it is, upon
conventional harmony and rhythm, braille notation lags behind print notation at least as much as print notation lags behind composition. Hence, there is still no common
practice in braille for indicating notes of indeterminant value, quarter tones, and many aleatoric devices.
Braille volunteers did achieve a noteworthy break-through when
they developed an embossed, pictorial score of Ligetti's organ composition, Volumina. A number of formats for presenting braille music exist. Occasionally, where a piece
is available in more than one format, the musician has the luxury of choosing the one he or she prefers. In some formats, the interval markings figure up from the lowest
note in either hand, while in others intervals in the left hand figure up from the lowest note and work downward from the highest note in the right hand.
Presentation of
the music may be bar-by-bar, bar-over-bar, or phrase by phrase in a paragraph style. In bar-by-bar format, one measure of the left hand stands just before the same
measure of the right hand with a bar line following them. This process continues for the duration of the piece. In the bar-over-bar method, one measure of the right hand
appears directly above the same bar for the left hand.
We consider paragraph style to be the most useful to a keyboard performer who is more interested in memorizing
entire phrases than in learning measures one at a time. Since the blind musician must use one hand to read what is being played with the other, he will probably find it
quite a nuisance to have to skip every unwanted portion of a measure in the bar-by-bar and the bar-over-bar formats while maintaining a steady tempo.
Paragraph style
permits a blind musician to follow an entire phrase in one hand without moving his reading hand quickly between disjunct points on the page. This ensures a smoother
reading with less chance of losing one's place. By playing what he is reading, the blind musician can simultaneousby reinforce literal, kinesthetic, and aural memory of a
piece. As he or she reads the score, the student should make a conscious effort to remember exactly how the music looks on the page, thereby developing literal memory. In
playing the notes with the other hand, he should be consciously working out a logical fingering, providing him thus with motor memory. Hearing the notes as he plays them
will enhance his aural retention.
This technique proved quite a contrast to an equally valid method suggested to us by William Hays, our organ teacher at Westminster
Choir College. He encourages his students to select something brief and not too difficult, and to attempt to memorize it away from the keyboard. One can divide the piece
into sections, but he cannot bring any section to the keyboard until he has memorized it away from the keyboard. This forces the student to develop literal memory, an
avenue too often neglected by blind musicians, and one denied by total reliance upon aural aids. To be sure, progress will be slow at first; however, the end results will
be well worth the time spent. The basic assumption behind this rather strict discipline is that one's security in playing from memory will be greatly enhanced by knowing
precisely what the notes are and how they appear on the page. After all, it is conceivable to imagine how the piece sounds and what it feels like to play without really
knowing on what note it begins. Another advantage of learning away from the instrument is that one need not be near a keyboard in order to memorize. Equipped with a
facility in braille music, the pupil may learn music on a train, on the beach, or in the middle of the night when everyone else is sleeping. We think we have struck a
workable compromise between these contrasting approaches to memorizing. Usually, we first take a piece or a section of a piece to the keyboard in order to hear individual
voices and to arrive at a workable fingering. This accomplished, we try not to return to the instrument with that piece or section until we have memorized it thoroughly
away from the keyboard. By the time we return to the instrument, we hope to have a good grasp of that section.
We proceed in this fashion, section by section, until we
have completed the work. However, even after subjecting these learned sections to extremely slow practice and to memory-enforcing techniques (such as playing them in
various rhythms or playing every other measure), we continue to reexamine illusive passages away from the instrument. Of course, each student will have to find his own
balance between memorizing at the instrument and away from it, depending upon his aural acuity and his facility with braille music. However, we urge you to have your
students strengthen their literal and aural memories until they are both self-sufficient.
Cognitive memory, defined as any knowledge of the piece not tied directly to
aural motor, and literal memory, often receives too little attention. It may include awareness of overall form, a thorough understanding of diverse styles, harmonic and
melodic analyses, and recreating in one's mind the total experience of playing a piece. This mental reconstruction of the performance is probably the same kind of
experience a sighted person gets from conducting himself in an imaginary performance. For us, it includes hearing all the notes and knowing their proper note names as
well as visualizing the attacks and releases of those notes on a mental keyboard.
As you can see, neither these memorizing techniques nor, for that matter, any of the
techniques we have described is specific only to the blind. Indeed, that is the most important point we wish to make. If you recognize some of these suggestions as
standard teaching techniques which ought to be used with blind and sighted students alike, you are well on the way to a sound approach to teaching your blind students.
If
other suggestions were foreign to you, don't be afraid to try them out. Any insight you gain by trying them will benefit not only your blind students, but your sighted
students as well. This is especially true of establishing a better physical rapport between you and your students. In general, allow no major distinction between teaching
methods for the blind and for the sighted. What you develop for one student can almost always be adapted to meet the needs of another. Treat your blind student as a
student who happens to be blind rather than as a blind boy or girl who happens to be a student. With these things in mind, you and your students, be they sighted or blind,
are likely to see that good playing and teaching habits are applicable to everyone.
ϟ
Keyboard Instruction for the Blind Student
by Daniel and David Simpson
(This article is based on a presentation made at the 1976 Music Teachers National
Association's national convention.)
Δ
14.Ago.2013
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