Thar She Blows:
The Bayside Middle School Sixth Grade Band Performance
As I entered the stark white gym last Thursday night, I encountered a familiar cacophony: the loud buzz of friendly chatter, the muted whine of over-tired babies, younger siblings squabbling noisily over seats or toys, and the erratic clank of metal chairs as they hit each other or were scraped against the newly waxed gym floor. A few minutes before 7pm, these sounds diminished as the Sixth Grade Band entered the gym in more or less single-file fashion, and ascended the rickety portable stage. During this drawn-out opening, many parents repositioned themselves to get better phone or video shots, and this reshuffling caused some further commotion, but the noisy swell died down as Mrs. White came out from behind a (dusty) purple curtain and waved to the audience.
When the Band Director, also known to the assembled parents as Carol White, assumed the stage, forty-seven members of her Sixth Grade Band fidgeted nervously in their seats. As they lifted their instruments (almost) in unison to begin their concert, looks of unease and uncertainty were shared among a number of the band members. These glances could have been attributed, in part, to the anxiety of performing live and perhaps even the mandatory dress code. Many of the young gentlemen seemed to be chafing almost unconsciously against the obligatory “shirt-and-tie” attire, while many young women pulled at the hems of their skirts, as if to reassure themselves that critical parts of their bodies were indeed, appropriately covered. However, as I noted this fidgeting, I remembered an earlier conversation with my own little timpani player. Apparently Mrs. White had been yelling quite frequently this week. It seems that her most acerbic comments had been aimed at the boys in the trumpet section who had failed to cease their "endless chatter" and needed to pay more attention to matters at hand. Perhaps this lack of musicality remained a lingering concern for the largely female woodwind section as they raised their instruments to start their first number, “Thar She Blows,” which was referenced in my fuzzy, xeroxed concert program as an “Old English Sailing Tune, Composer Unknown.”
Listening to the tune (a term employed carefully throughout this text), I began to think about the middle school concert as a social ritual that necessarily bonded the Bayside community together, but also functioned a cipher. The quality of music these families came to hear mattered much less than the affirmation of culture that this performance and its “dressed-up” players represented. The music seemed to be a secondary consideration, if not completely unimportant, to many members of the audience. Being seen, being in attendance, being part of a community that enjoyed watching a band, all of these considerations seemed to be far more important than any specific aesthetic aspect of this concert experience. Certainly, on an individual level, many parents would be happy to report that they encouraged musical training and that they supported their son or daughter’s need or desire to develop “an ear for music,” but during this more universal moment, as long as Mrs. White kept directing, and the children kept producing something, the audience seemed to be pleased.
As the band moved on to their “Disney Medley,” I think began to think about concepts of beauty, taste, and creative labor. I wondered whether this kind of middle school musicianship is a hybrid form of play and work, some frightening amalgamation of free play and repressive authority. It seemed to me that the trumpet players were leering at each other and racing through their sections, off tempo and happy to be so. The percussion section was counting out loud, trying desperately to stay together, and Mrs. White’s arms were pumping furiously in an effort to catch everyone’s gaze. A few audience members were laughing, but many were simply smiling (not grimacing) and in several rows, a number of people--mostly grandparents--were leaning forward to listen more attentively.
After ending with a strain of music slightly reminiscent of the theme song from “Beauty and the Beast,” several members of the Sixth Grade Band Woodwind Section walked up to the microphone to introduce the Band’s final two numbers (“Theme from Halo 3” and Adapted Selections from “Phantom of the Opera”). As they spoke, I realized that there were some very complicated structures at issue here as well. To engage her students’ interests in the music which they may, or may not strive to play, Mrs. White needed to pander to consumer trends and well-accepted consumptive practices. Few parents seemed to be too concerned about this uncomfortable intersection between the economic and the artistic.
Certainly most Bayside families, if asked, might have considered this concert ritual to be an affirmation of free will and democratic tradition. At the individual level, each family fundamentally believed that their child possessed the potential to become some kind of musician. Each family fundamentally believed that their child contained within them some kind of artistic aptitude that could be brought forth and developed. This ability would not be a question of inheritance, entitlement, or capacity, but more a question of access. Attending a school which provided this kind of opportunity could be seen by many in the audience as affirmation of the right kind of social development a free society should foster for its citizens. And certainly, disturbing questions related to access and equal opportunity would not be raised this evening. Nor would there be any references to pluralism or multiculturalism. During the seven years that I have been attending Bayside Middle School Concerts, I cannot remember hearing even one selection that might be considered a departure from the Western Canon.
I was jolted from these thoughts as the concert concluded, and a sweating Mrs. White thanked the audience for “supporting” the Sixth Grade Band. She clutched the yellow carnations wrapped in green plastic that had been presented to her by the PTO President, and walked off stage. Before I left the building, I could see her solid frame pushing the kettle drum back to the Band Room. And then I began to wonder; perhaps in Carol White's dreams, she is conducting, rather than directing, and the audience can not only see, but hear, if only for a brief and fleeting moment.
The Bayside Middle School Sixth Grade Band Performance
As I entered the stark white gym last Thursday night, I encountered a familiar cacophony: the loud buzz of friendly chatter, the muted whine of over-tired babies, younger siblings squabbling noisily over seats or toys, and the erratic clank of metal chairs as they hit each other or were scraped against the newly waxed gym floor. A few minutes before 7pm, these sounds diminished as the Sixth Grade Band entered the gym in more or less single-file fashion, and ascended the rickety portable stage. During this drawn-out opening, many parents repositioned themselves to get better phone or video shots, and this reshuffling caused some further commotion, but the noisy swell died down as Mrs. White came out from behind a (dusty) purple curtain and waved to the audience.
When the Band Director, also known to the assembled parents as Carol White, assumed the stage, forty-seven members of her Sixth Grade Band fidgeted nervously in their seats. As they lifted their instruments (almost) in unison to begin their concert, looks of unease and uncertainty were shared among a number of the band members. These glances could have been attributed, in part, to the anxiety of performing live and perhaps even the mandatory dress code. Many of the young gentlemen seemed to be chafing almost unconsciously against the obligatory “shirt-and-tie” attire, while many young women pulled at the hems of their skirts, as if to reassure themselves that critical parts of their bodies were indeed, appropriately covered. However, as I noted this fidgeting, I remembered an earlier conversation with my own little timpani player. Apparently Mrs. White had been yelling quite frequently this week. It seems that her most acerbic comments had been aimed at the boys in the trumpet section who had failed to cease their "endless chatter" and needed to pay more attention to matters at hand. Perhaps this lack of musicality remained a lingering concern for the largely female woodwind section as they raised their instruments to start their first number, “Thar She Blows,” which was referenced in my fuzzy, xeroxed concert program as an “Old English Sailing Tune, Composer Unknown.”
Listening to the tune (a term employed carefully throughout this text), I began to think about the middle school concert as a social ritual that necessarily bonded the Bayside community together, but also functioned a cipher. The quality of music these families came to hear mattered much less than the affirmation of culture that this performance and its “dressed-up” players represented. The music seemed to be a secondary consideration, if not completely unimportant, to many members of the audience. Being seen, being in attendance, being part of a community that enjoyed watching a band, all of these considerations seemed to be far more important than any specific aesthetic aspect of this concert experience. Certainly, on an individual level, many parents would be happy to report that they encouraged musical training and that they supported their son or daughter’s need or desire to develop “an ear for music,” but during this more universal moment, as long as Mrs. White kept directing, and the children kept producing something, the audience seemed to be pleased.
As the band moved on to their “Disney Medley,” I think began to think about concepts of beauty, taste, and creative labor. I wondered whether this kind of middle school musicianship is a hybrid form of play and work, some frightening amalgamation of free play and repressive authority. It seemed to me that the trumpet players were leering at each other and racing through their sections, off tempo and happy to be so. The percussion section was counting out loud, trying desperately to stay together, and Mrs. White’s arms were pumping furiously in an effort to catch everyone’s gaze. A few audience members were laughing, but many were simply smiling (not grimacing) and in several rows, a number of people--mostly grandparents--were leaning forward to listen more attentively.
After ending with a strain of music slightly reminiscent of the theme song from “Beauty and the Beast,” several members of the Sixth Grade Band Woodwind Section walked up to the microphone to introduce the Band’s final two numbers (“Theme from Halo 3” and Adapted Selections from “Phantom of the Opera”). As they spoke, I realized that there were some very complicated structures at issue here as well. To engage her students’ interests in the music which they may, or may not strive to play, Mrs. White needed to pander to consumer trends and well-accepted consumptive practices. Few parents seemed to be too concerned about this uncomfortable intersection between the economic and the artistic.
Certainly most Bayside families, if asked, might have considered this concert ritual to be an affirmation of free will and democratic tradition. At the individual level, each family fundamentally believed that their child possessed the potential to become some kind of musician. Each family fundamentally believed that their child contained within them some kind of artistic aptitude that could be brought forth and developed. This ability would not be a question of inheritance, entitlement, or capacity, but more a question of access. Attending a school which provided this kind of opportunity could be seen by many in the audience as affirmation of the right kind of social development a free society should foster for its citizens. And certainly, disturbing questions related to access and equal opportunity would not be raised this evening. Nor would there be any references to pluralism or multiculturalism. During the seven years that I have been attending Bayside Middle School Concerts, I cannot remember hearing even one selection that might be considered a departure from the Western Canon.
I was jolted from these thoughts as the concert concluded, and a sweating Mrs. White thanked the audience for “supporting” the Sixth Grade Band. She clutched the yellow carnations wrapped in green plastic that had been presented to her by the PTO President, and walked off stage. Before I left the building, I could see her solid frame pushing the kettle drum back to the Band Room. And then I began to wonder; perhaps in Carol White's dreams, she is conducting, rather than directing, and the audience can not only see, but hear, if only for a brief and fleeting moment.
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