Carl Bergstroem-Nielsen's essay, with its soul-searching questioning of what aesthetics really is and the resulting myriad implications on the practice of music therapy, is truly stirring. I myself have often wondered what makes the music of music therapists distinct from that of other musicians, and what gives music itself such universal potency that "so many people have a favourable opinion of music therapy even before they have learned anything about how it functions" (Bergstroem-Nielsen, 2006).
I am especially intrigued by the need of every music therapist to reconcile his or her personal conception of what is aesthetically effective with the client's own aesthetic conception. A large part of the honor of the profession lies in putting the needs of the client first, yet attending to our own needs is a necessity as well, ultimately. After all, use of simple, "ordinary" music - music that is often effective among populations with dementia or developmental delays, for example - has the potential to put the therapist on the fast-track to burnout. The music therapist has to be creative on so many different levels, and among them is how he or she does what is most appropriate and effective for the client musically while maintaining an energized passion: passion for making a difference in the life of the client, of course - but also passion for how this difference is being made musically. During my first semester as a graduate music therapy student at Lesley University, I have wondered, and sometimes even worried, about how I can best serve others as a music therapist without sacrificing my musicianship and my own aesthetic sensibilities. Perhaps I have run the risk of sounding self- and not client-centered by saying this. I am confident, though, that as I continue in my academic and clinical enrichment, new creative avenues will open through which I can excitedly embrace, utilize, and continue to nourish my unique musical identity and, consequently, be more present for and helpful to the client than I ever could have been otherwise. In short, I believe the author's statement that "our practical musicianship is a crucial part of that which we are offering" (Bergstroem-Nielsen, 2006) should hold immense importance for music therapists of every kind, lest we lose our identity as music therapists and, I daresay, our credibility as professionals.
Bergstroem-Nielsen's concluding remarks about the compatibility of aesthetics and plurality are quite thought-provoking as well. Indeed, aesthetic qualities cannot be absolute or completely unified, especially in a cross-cultural perspective. I am reminded of Suvarna Nalapat's response to the article, which expounds upon music therapy practices through the Indian aesthetic tradition, in which music is spiritual: not personal or individually contrived but, literally, of God. This ideology is elaborated through discussion of rasa, "the source of inspiration for an artist and a listener" (Nalapat, 2006). What I find particularly striking here in light of Bergstroem-Nielsen's discussion is a chart Nalapat provides of the nine rasa of Indian aesthetics. The first, "shantha," marked simply by holistic well-being through states of tranquility and peace, is what the author considers "ideal for music therapy," yet I cannot help but take notice of another rasa, "pathetic," associated with a state of sorrow that manifests itself through trembling and raised hairs (Nalapat, 2006). On a musical level, such a "chill response" has been documented in Western neurological research as evidence of a peak affective experience that is often positive (Zatorre, 2003, 11-12), and these peak experiences have served as vehicles for healing in various approaches to music therapy such as the Bonny Method of Guided Imagery and Music (Bonny, 2002, 48-50). All this is to say that in certain instances, aesthetic ideals within separate contexts fail to coalesce, coexisting only at a distance from one another - but coexist they do. Arguing that one musical aesthetic is more valid than another would be as vain as arguing that red is more colorful than blue!
Ours is a discipline with a spectrum of approaches and perspectives, and there is beauty in the uniqueness and usefulness of each one. I share the excitement Bergstroem-Nielsen expresses in his closing remarks, and I too would like to think some beauty has yet to be unearthed within the aesthetic realm of music therapy.
References
Bergstroem-Nielsen, C. (2006). The importance of aesthetics as a dimension in music therapy activity. Voices: A World Forum for Music Therapy. Retrieved November 17, 2007 from https://normt.uib.no/index.php/voices/article/view/241/185
Bonny, H.L. (2002). Music and consciousness: The evolution of Guided Imagery and Music. Gilsum, NH: Barcelona Publishers.
Carl Bergstroem-Nielsen's essay, with its soul-searching questioning of what aesthetics really is and the resulting myriad implications on the practice of music therapy, is truly stirring. I myself have often wondered what makes the music of music therapists distinct from that of other musicians, and what gives music itself such universal potency that "so many people have a favourable opinion of music therapy even before they have learned anything about how it functions" (Bergstroem-Nielsen, 2006).
I am especially intrigued by the need of every music therapist to reconcile his or her personal conception of what is aesthetically effective with the client's own aesthetic conception. A large part of the honor of the profession lies in putting the needs of the client first, yet attending to our own needs is a necessity as well, ultimately. After all, use of simple, "ordinary" music - music that is often effective among populations with dementia or developmental delays, for example - has the potential to put the therapist on the fast-track to burnout. The music therapist has to be creative on so many different levels, and among them is how he or she does what is most appropriate and effective for the client musically while maintaining an energized passion: passion for making a difference in the life of the client, of course - but also passion for how this difference is being made musically. During my first semester as a graduate music therapy student at Lesley University, I have wondered, and sometimes even worried, about how I can best serve others as a music therapist without sacrificing my musicianship and my own aesthetic sensibilities. Perhaps I have run the risk of sounding self- and not client-centered by saying this. I am confident, though, that as I continue in my academic and clinical enrichment, new creative avenues will open through which I can excitedly embrace, utilize, and continue to nourish my unique musical identity and, consequently, be more present for and helpful to the client than I ever could have been otherwise. In short, I believe the author's statement that "our practical musicianship is a crucial part of that which we are offering" (Bergstroem-Nielsen, 2006) should hold immense importance for music therapists of every kind, lest we lose our identity as music therapists and, I daresay, our credibility as professionals.
Bergstroem-Nielsen's concluding remarks about the compatibility of aesthetics and plurality are quite thought-provoking as well. Indeed, aesthetic qualities cannot be absolute or completely unified, especially in a cross-cultural perspective. I am reminded of Suvarna Nalapat's response to the article, which expounds upon music therapy practices through the Indian aesthetic tradition, in which music is spiritual: not personal or individually contrived but, literally, of God. This ideology is elaborated through discussion of rasa, "the source of inspiration for an artist and a listener" (Nalapat, 2006). What I find particularly striking here in light of Bergstroem-Nielsen's discussion is a chart Nalapat provides of the nine rasa of Indian aesthetics. The first, "shantha," marked simply by holistic well-being through states of tranquility and peace, is what the author considers "ideal for music therapy," yet I cannot help but take notice of another rasa, "pathetic," associated with a state of sorrow that manifests itself through trembling and raised hairs (Nalapat, 2006). On a musical level, such a "chill response" has been documented in Western neurological research as evidence of a peak affective experience that is often positive (Zatorre, 2003, 11-12), and these peak experiences have served as vehicles for healing in various approaches to music therapy such as the Bonny Method of Guided Imagery and Music (Bonny, 2002, 48-50). All this is to say that in certain instances, aesthetic ideals within separate contexts fail to coalesce, coexisting only at a distance from one another - but coexist they do. Arguing that one musical aesthetic is more valid than another would be as vain as arguing that red is more colorful than blue!
Ours is a discipline with a spectrum of approaches and perspectives, and there is beauty in the uniqueness and usefulness of each one. I share the excitement Bergstroem-Nielsen expresses in his closing remarks, and I too would like to think some beauty has yet to be unearthed within the aesthetic realm of music therapy.
References
Bergstroem-Nielsen, C. (2006). The importance of aesthetics as a dimension in music therapy activity. Voices: A World Forum for Music Therapy. Retrieved November 17, 2007 from https://normt.uib.no/index.php/voices/article/view/241/185
Bonny, H.L. (2002). Music and consciousness: The evolution of Guided Imagery and Music. Gilsum, NH: Barcelona Publishers.
Nalapat, S. (2006). Indian aesthetics in music therapy - The personal and impersonal. [Contribution to Moderated Discussions] Voices: A World Forum for Music Therapy. Retrieved November 18, 2007 from http://voices.no/?q=content/indian-aesthetics-music-therapy-personal-and...
Zatorre, R.J. (2003). Music and the brain. Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences, 999, 4-14.