I read with delight Gary Ansdell's theoretical paper on Community Music Therapy. I am an equivalency student at the University of Louisville pursuing a second career in music therapy. When I entered the program in 2003, I had never heard of Community Music Therapy. I assumed, as Dr. Ansdell describes traditional music therapy practice, that therapy takes place behind closed doors in privacy, and that performance has no place in its paradigm. This I accepted, though reluctantly, for I left a very satisfying job as a church choir director in order to prepare for my new career. I looked upon my choir experience, wistfully, as a closed chapter of my life. However, now I am learning about Community Music Therapy, and my hopes are stirred. Maybe, just maybe, I can blend two of my passions: directing a choir and practicing music therapy.
During my ten year stint as choir director, I had a gut feeling that what was occurring was therapeutic. In light of my discovery of Community Music Therapy, I now ask myself, " What were the elements of the experience that made it so?" For I realize that although the " performances" were transformative, as Ansdell described, much more was at stake. For purposes of this response, I am not addressing the spiritual aspects of the choir. I am focusing on the aspects of community that developed. And community was what was at stake. Community development is a long and arduous process. We were a largely unskilled group of musicians. Some read music, most did not. Some had previous choir experience. Most did not. Occasionally we had a talented soloist. Some years we did not. What held us together was our feeling of community. We ate in each others' homes once a month, we practiced diligently, we looked out for each other in times of need, we laughed and cried together, the stronger singers encouraged the weaker ones. The long-time members shepherded the newcomers. Somehow, we succeeded in consistently sounding good, and when we didn't, we sang with so much heart that no one cared about the mistakes. As one choir member said, "Week after week we show up thinking, 'there's no way we can do this' and then we get up in church and DO it!" This is reminiscent of the title of Dr. Ansdell's paper: Being who you aren't, doing what you can't. We held yearly coffee house style open microphone concerts in the church that we called "A Little Night Music". We traveled to other churches in our community and presented workshops on how to start a choir like ours. We produced (in our church basement) and sold a recording of our best numbers and donated the proceeds to the sanctuary building fund. We were invited to perform at our university's concert hall on a special showcase of sacred music. We provided the special music for diocesan-wide meetings at our mountain retreat center. This was a special choir that existed for ten years with consistent leadership and many members' commitment, but I emphasize that we were a rag-tag bunch, not unlike the Musical Minds group in the London's East End.
What were the therapeutic benefits of participation in our choir that correspond to the Musical Minds experience?
Increased self-esteem and self-worth
Increased quality of life
Decreased social isolation, a feeling of belonging, of being in a network of relationships
Increased sense of purpose in one's life
Opportunity to give of oneself
Dr. Ansdell, you have given me much to think about. I appreciate the opportunity to reflect on those very rewarding ten years of my life, and to explore my experience as a choir director from a therapeutic perspective. So, inasmuch as we are the sum total of all our experiences, I now face a happy challenge: to integrate Community Music Therapy, the seeds of which were unwittingly sown years ago in the choir, into my future career as a music therapist.
About Kathy Jo Gutgsell
Biography
Music therapy student, University of Louisville, USA.
I read with delight Gary Ansdell's theoretical paper on Community Music Therapy. I am an equivalency student at the University of Louisville pursuing a second career in music therapy. When I entered the program in 2003, I had never heard of Community Music Therapy. I assumed, as Dr. Ansdell describes traditional music therapy practice, that therapy takes place behind closed doors in privacy, and that performance has no place in its paradigm. This I accepted, though reluctantly, for I left a very satisfying job as a church choir director in order to prepare for my new career. I looked upon my choir experience, wistfully, as a closed chapter of my life. However, now I am learning about Community Music Therapy, and my hopes are stirred. Maybe, just maybe, I can blend two of my passions: directing a choir and practicing music therapy.
During my ten year stint as choir director, I had a gut feeling that what was occurring was therapeutic. In light of my discovery of Community Music Therapy, I now ask myself, " What were the elements of the experience that made it so?" For I realize that although the " performances" were transformative, as Ansdell described, much more was at stake. For purposes of this response, I am not addressing the spiritual aspects of the choir. I am focusing on the aspects of community that developed. And community was what was at stake. Community development is a long and arduous process. We were a largely unskilled group of musicians. Some read music, most did not. Some had previous choir experience. Most did not. Occasionally we had a talented soloist. Some years we did not. What held us together was our feeling of community. We ate in each others' homes once a month, we practiced diligently, we looked out for each other in times of need, we laughed and cried together, the stronger singers encouraged the weaker ones. The long-time members shepherded the newcomers. Somehow, we succeeded in consistently sounding good, and when we didn't, we sang with so much heart that no one cared about the mistakes. As one choir member said, "Week after week we show up thinking, 'there's no way we can do this' and then we get up in church and DO it!" This is reminiscent of the title of Dr. Ansdell's paper: Being who you aren't, doing what you can't. We held yearly coffee house style open microphone concerts in the church that we called "A Little Night Music". We traveled to other churches in our community and presented workshops on how to start a choir like ours. We produced (in our church basement) and sold a recording of our best numbers and donated the proceeds to the sanctuary building fund. We were invited to perform at our university's concert hall on a special showcase of sacred music. We provided the special music for diocesan-wide meetings at our mountain retreat center. This was a special choir that existed for ten years with consistent leadership and many members' commitment, but I emphasize that we were a rag-tag bunch, not unlike the Musical Minds group in the London's East End.
What were the therapeutic benefits of participation in our choir that correspond to the Musical Minds experience?
Dr. Ansdell, you have given me much to think about. I appreciate the opportunity to reflect on those very rewarding ten years of my life, and to explore my experience as a choir director from a therapeutic perspective. So, inasmuch as we are the sum total of all our experiences, I now face a happy challenge: to integrate Community Music Therapy, the seeds of which were unwittingly sown years ago in the choir, into my future career as a music therapist.