Dr. Klara Kokas: THE KODÁLY METHOD IN AMERICA
Published in The New Hungarian Quarterly,
Vol. XVI. No. 59, 1975
Every skilled gardener knows that he has to select the soil, temperature, humidity, light, etc. to suit the plant. When it comes to the transplantation of an educational idea into another culture,[1] one has a harder task to face than a gardener. It is more difficult to determine the requirements for an educational idea, what are the conditions necessary for its establishment, existence and growth. The gardener can control the conditions to a great extent, while in transplanting an educational idea one must do the best one can with what is given.
Kodály started his schemes for musical education in Hungary, with Hungarian collaborators, and for Hungarian pupils. Generations of Hungarian music teachers have taken part in elaborating the method. The idea was so perfect, the execution so thorough and the outcome so clear that within a short time the musicians and teachers of other nations also wanted to adopt the method.
After a shorter or longer stay in Hungary, and based on superficial or more profound knowledge, many began establishing the Kodály method in their own country. Some of them grasped more, others less of the essence of the idea. Many of them paid attention only to the technique, seeing no more in it than a system that leads to reading and writing music. Others simply translated Hungarian song-books into their languages, interspersing them with a few of their own folk-songs, and called this a Kodály adaptation.
Such superficial work led to the suppression of the essence of the idea. When the desired effect failed to occur, this gave rise to the view that the Kodály method only suited well-disciplined Hungarian children. Unsuccessful adaptations in many places brought discredit to the idea itself.
I have seen the work of English, French, Canadian and US teachers. During the 1973 International Kodály Symposium I also got acquainted with those who worked on Australian, Japanese, Czech, Polish and German adaptations, but in their case I had to rely on what they said, their lectures and publications. I shall here deal with what I known at first hand.
The French and English adaptations were the work of outstanding teachers. I consider them as exemplarly. They selected the musical material to be taught with an unfailing musical taste, carefully preparing and analyzing it, building the logical course of developing musicality on the characteristic phrases of the songs. Relative solfeggio is familiar in Britain, and thus they did not have to fight for its acceptance; Hungarian pentatony could also rely on local traditions, beautiful pentatonic melodies have come from Scotland, Wales, Ireland and indeed from the Blackpool region where the renowned school is functioning. In developing musical abilities they rely on Kodály’s music education volumes, and they have become authentic interpreters of the Kodály choruses, through which they have approached old, new and most recent music literature. The pupils of the school mostly come from working-class families. The first experiments were not even started with the most gifted pupils. The outstanding results and national acclaim achieved within a few years were doubtlessly produced by the outstanding musical qualifications and educational skill of Margaret Holden, their teacher.
In France, Jacqueotte Ribiére-Ráverlat tried in vain for many years to introduce her detailed and well-prepared Kodály adaptation. She was not given an experimental school. Finally, she has put her ideas into practice in Montreal where she taught for three years. Jacqueotte Riviére-Ráverlat tried to approach the Kodály idea from a different angle. Because of the dominatingly diatonic structure of French songs, she did not build on pentatonic phrases. She compiled the first “conscious motives” from do - lower so - lower la-re variations, which are the most characteristic of French children’s songs. The do-lower so is a great enough leap to be used as a starting-point instead of the so-mi minor third which is customary in Hungary, and it seems that in spontaneous improvisations as well, the natural intonation of the French children is a perfect fourth rather than a minor third. She had to select amongst the Kodály exercises, and could not use them in their original order. Jacqueotte Ribiére-Ráverlat as well is an outstanding musician, and a conscientious and ingenious teacher, and thus the Montreal adaptation has also proved a success. However, absolute solfeggio which has sunk such deep roots in the French- speaking world has raised many obstacles in her way. The Latin nations use the syllables of the solfeggio to mark absolute tones, whereas for English speakers relative solfeggio indicates the intervals and relations, the terms for the absolute tones remain c, d, e, f, and so on.
For a qualified French musician it is therefore almost unthinkable that do should not be the term for an absolute note of a certain frequency, but a component of one of the intervals in varying heights (for example, the basis for do-mi, or the upper pillar of the lower la-do third). Here I cannot go into all the numerous views and objections regarding relative and absolute solfeggio. Kodály considered relative solfeggio as suitable, and the results have proved him right. The Montreal classes, too, have borne out that the method of relative solfeggio has served well the musical training of French-Canadian girls. It would be premature to make any prophecies on whether the English or the French form of adaptation will prove more successful. Both are useful and much can be learned from both.
Kodály or Orff?
I have most closely observed the situation in America, since I myself took part for three years, and encountered the problems involved, day by day. Endeavors to introduce the Kodály method in American schools have been made in a number of states. The teachers started out from highly differing levels of musical grounding. In America it has become fashionable and a smart thing to attend Kodály courses. I have even seen “Orff Kodály” printed in the prospectus of a Boston singing teacher, and when I questioned him he answered that he had just started since the instruments had not yet arrived. The linking of Orff and Kodály is fairly frequent in America, as both represent methods imported from Europe, and both of them use pentatony as their basis. There are many common features and many use Orff to supplement the singing-centred Kodály method. Orff became fashionable in America earlier, and many schools purchased the Orff instruments. Brief summer courses and short visits to Salzburg were insufficient to familiarize oneself with its essence. Based on superficial knowledge and lacking proper trials adaptations were generally poor, though there is much to be said in favor of Orff’s method. The European cultivators of the two methods have learnt much from each other. I have frequently heard American followers arguing in favor of one or the other, in my opinion, however, such debates are superfluous. Two educational trends here start from different aspects but in the final analysis aim for a similar goal. Superficial work and the desire for speedy results have affected the American adaptation of both in much the same way.
The starting-point in every adaptation must be the teacher’s definition of aims in the light of the conditions and educational objectives of a given society. They have to decide what they want to teach, and why they selected that particular material. The purpose also determines the selection of the method. But then the purpose is usually conceived within an extremely wide scope. The question is whether one intends to create a musical culture, or form the taste and sensitivity for music. In most cases one wish to achieve it all. Nevertheless, one still selects and gives preference to one or another aspect, according to the time avail- able for training and also according to whether a selected minority, perhaps outstanding talents, or a large number of children have to be taught.
Why Give Children a Musical Education
The function of music education can be determined within a broad scale. I have attended many debates where diametrically opposed opinions were expressed sound reasons being given to back each. The majority of American teachers searched for the best for their pupils, doing so faithfully. Their aim was often determined by the need to entertain and provide recreation for the children, making sure they “have fun”, until they realized that music lessons intended to entertain did not do so. I have seen many such fruitless efforts. Instead of relaxing they bored their pupils, and I felt upset by the teacher's obviously ineffective feverish endeavors to try to entertain.
I have thought about what actually happened. The “entertaining” approach of the adults is a basically mistaken one. The child not only has to participate actively in what amuses him, but he must also feel that he has done something; he needs a sense of achievement. In the course of “entertaining” singing lessons I have seen some excellent ideas, and the teacher often tried out a whole series on them. After a few minutes attention started to flag. In vain did instruments tinkle, balls fly, or colored ribbons whirl, attention remained on the surface, it did not penetrate the music itself. It was also obvious that the work of teachers could hardly compete with the succession of ideas in the American television children’s programs that are constantly striving for novelties. Television can more easily offer something new all the time, different, quickly changing and surprising. Even the highly popular “Sesame Street” program on educational television avails itself of such fireworks ideas.
However - in accordance with the demand for fast change inherent in the American way of life - in this series as well each element is introduced by many and suddenly changing happenings. For example: the conceptions of below - over, under - above or behind - before are illustrated by many excellent pictures, but these variegated pictures are interchanged much too quickly. The block capital H was taught in the following manner: five pretty figures in T- shirts burst onto the scene-accompanied by lively, snappy music - dragging a big pillar. They set it up, frisked around it, and ran out. The same went on with another pillar. The third pillar joined the first two, thus making up the letter H, but they put it down the wrong way, and in this upside-down form the letter did not yet become an H. So they jumped around it, tried to fix it, and finally it got into place - the letter H is there. All that takes place in a matter of seconds, and in a highly entertaining manner, accompanied by music. Is there any school and teacher in the world who could undertake to teach in a similarly amusing way? On the other hand, what happens with a child who becomes accustomed to react only to such stimuli? What the school can do is to allow for activities which develop the child's abilities in a many-sided way allowing them to derive amusement from them as well. Undoubtedly, a different kind of amusement. I have seen an excellent lesson with the letter H as its subject. The children pieced together the capital H from wooden and plastic blocks, they painted it on large pieces of paper, with brushes, they pasted it up using sandpaper and passed their backs forming a letter H, and accompanied this by uttering the sound “h”, not pronouncing it with a vowel, only breathing “h”.
The joy of learning is not entertainment. To aim to entertain and no more is just as great an error as it is fatal to separate learning from play. The joy of discovery comes from within and it does more in the interest of learning than even serious determination.
Music amuses and refreshes - that is all right. Its educational aim nevertheless cannot be solely recreation and amusement, the appropriate roads even cannot be found for that. It is frequently maintained that the aim of musical education is to develop sensitivity to music. This is true; the trouble is that one usually looks for the way in listening.
In European music the practice has been established for centuries now to sit motion- less in concert halls, or nowadays in front of the radio or television, and listen. Listening to music does not demand active participation. Reception in itself suffices in the enjoyment of pop music as it does for Beethoven.
Music as Living Tradition
This is not the case in cultures where the original function of music is still alive, where music still has a central role, forming an integral part of the daily routine as well as of festive occasions. I have seen a film shot in the island of Bali in 1972, with parts of a ceremony lasting several hours, where each minute got a special meaning by making music in common. Ten months old babies took over the rhythm of the ancient movements. I have seen another film shot in the same year, showing the life of an African tribe. They played music as naturally as drawing breath, each and all of them. I was gripped by the protean melodic texture and the wealth of rhythms. I have seen a film about another African tribe visited by a young American Black drummer who played music with the natives. At certain points in the performances, adults and children, women and men among the audience surrounding the performer, started dancing in turn, with a spontaneous verve. Evidently, they lived in tune with the performance and were unable to remain a motionless audience.
The music-making of American Negroes stimulates the listener to movement and to uttering sounds in a similar manner. At concerts and in church, they applaud rhythmically; they interrupt the music with shouts and accompany it with movements or even sing to it.
These kinds of music are not circulated in a written form, and they do not even have a written system of signs. In their case there is no need to read or write music.
According to several American educators this form of music contains greater educational possibilities than European music. According to them reading and writing music is not necessary in schools.
The Kodály method cannot offer much to them, but they still use part of the Kodály idea in the right way when they want to serve up the musical idiom of the original folklore as a daily bread in schools. Nevertheless, the integrity of the idea inevitably includes European written music. In my view this helps the mental development of the American child as well, whatever his color.
In 1929 Kodály still had to fight for the importance of reading and writing music. The Italian journal Musica Domani, even in 1974, disputed the justification of reading and writing music in school. I have heard and read similar arguments by numerous American and British educators. Such arguments spring from two sources. Some really do not consider it important to familiarize children with European written music. The others find themselves unable to overcome the difficulties inherent in reading and writing music, and the development of an inner hearing which is indispensable for it, and therefore they also reject a knowledge of written music. The first argument is beneath contempt. Those insisting on the difficulties should be reminded of what has been successfully done in a number of countries. Should one start with folklore or with art music. Thence the typically American question arises which folklore to start with, and what should be the share of, say, Negro or Puerto-Rican folklore in mixed schools. I cannot even imagine a definite answer to this question of North American music education, since the country is such a melting pot of peoples and races. Who can tell which one dominates and which is the stronger, and which wants to hang on to its original folklore and the culture they brought with them or inherited, and which strives for the earliest possible assimilation. One can only express an informed opinion in the full knowledge of local conditions.
Teaching the Method
After a clear formulation of the aims (since there are more than one aim), the roads leading towards them can be outlined. Musical techniques have always been easiest to learn by imitation. Children learnt singing, dancing and the handling of instruments by watching adults slowly growing into it, they, too, developed it further. This is how tradition was inherited and developed, and how the child’s ability developed. The “conservatory without walls” so frequently mentioned among American Negroes today, refers to just this. They did not possess organized institutions, or methods linked to any given person. The young were taught by the old. The social structure today offers other possibilities, organized educational forms, for transmission. The responsibility of individual conveyance actuated by an inner drive, as demonstrated by the music history of the American Negroes, still provides a great lesson. Organized forms and definite methods can easily depersonalize the process of transmission, lowering it to simple teaching. The question of “how” should be answered by undertaking responsibility actuated by an inner drive. The most successful of many possible methods should be chosen, or several of them should be welded together giving help to children developing their personality as a whole.
Kodály selected and adapted sound methods. He searched for optimum solutions and incorporated them with his ideas. There is no sense in trying to keep the Kodály method simon-pure. Reshaping the original formulae by incorporating suitable discoveries is not only permissible but an educational duty. No method can remain successful if it rigidifies into a dogma. Only those new devices can be included which further the better unfolding of the original ideas. One can only afford changes if one is familiar with the essence of the original idea, and superficial results do not divert one from that which is recognized as the right way. I find the mixing of musical methods to be extremely dangerous. I have seen countless examples in America, a cautionary tale, every one of them. Having a superficial knowledge of methods they serve up concoctions to the children which do not serve any proper purpose, having none.
When I accepted the American invitation I tried to work out how I could be of help to the teachers and children in an alien society. Education involves a tremendous responsibility. It is difficult enough at home. When, after landing in the country, I faced the weight of the responsibility, I became anxious. Not only because I lacked information, and was ignorant of many intricate aspects of life, society and education there. And not only because the situation there has an oppressing effect. With talents that are moderate in proportion to the tasks awaiting me I had to get acquainted within an extremely short time with countless aspects of an alien society and an alien education system which all influenced and, indeed, determined my work. Americans always expect results. All that is good must appear promptly. Whatever requires patience is uncertain. But education simply cannot be urged and the time taken for the views to mature is just as important as teaching itself. They wanted to plan the comparative examination of the experimental Kodály classes for one year, and only granted two years as a result of prolonged argument. In the Kodály Institute of Kecskemét creativity examinations took four years, and I do not consider even that long enough. The main problem of adaptation lies exactly in these differing social expectations.
The basis of education, too, is different in America. Great universities depend on private financing, and the same applies to music institutes as well. One of the most distinguished establishments for education in music of the United States, the New England Conservatory, was facing bankruptcy, and for months on end appealed for financial support on the networks. National Educational Television, the only network that does not interrupt programs to boost a product, the only one which features cultural programs of a high standard, appealed for help in much the same way. I was unable to get reconciled to the idea that the introduction and maintenance of educational programs should depend on whether those holding the money bags, rich men or the trustees of foundations, could be persuaded of the usefulness and efficiency of the program. Together with an American psychologist colleague, we adapted the outline of our research project for many months since it was to come before people who presumably had no expertise in either music or education. It was up to their judgement whether a plan would be accepted which - given the patient work of several years - promised slow development, or something else that held out hopes of instant success.
It is only natural that given those circumstances they incline to decide in favour of the latter. Educational plans therefore proliferate like weeds, promising redemption and remedy for various difficulties schools encounter, and even for what have become well known as the problems of young people. I was not in a position to promise salvation and had no desire to do so.
Our musical program gave much help in the different fields of education, such as communal education and in certain aspects of learning. Our children undoubtedly were better able to concentrate; they paid more attention, and worked as team more than earlier classes taught by the same teachers. They performed better in reading tests, as shown by the figures on a comparative statistical table. The organization of comparative tests proved to be unbelievably difficult. Identical conditions had to be ensured in every respect for the music and control groups. This meant that the class teacher had to be identical, that is classes had to be divided into two. Thus we were forced to sacrifice one of the important psychological advantages of our program, the team spirit of the class, in order to ensure the authenticity of psychological examinations.
American Problems
The absence of well-organized unified class work raised great difficulties. A Hungarian finds it difficult to imagine the nature of group work, the way an American child shifts from group to group in accordance with the task and his interests as well. In Hungary classes are taught as units and kept together. Towards the end of my first year I was horrified to learn that by the following autumn my singing class would be split up and mixed with the parallel form. I tried to ask for an explanation, and someone there provided me with the following arguments:
(1) If children get used to each other they talk in class.
(2) Many children are unable to adapt themselves to a community; they should therefore be taken into a new community.
(3) It is better for them to get accustomed to new mates, as this is what life has in store for them. They must be ready to fit into new communities throughout their lives.
The first argument contradicts the most elementary laws of human relations. In Hungary even the most backward, autocratic teacher would be afraid to say such a thing. It is true that in my Boston school it was such a teacher who said this, and it is to be hoped that very few American teachers share her views. If a child cannot talk to his mates in school, where should he establish human relations, and how should he become a useful member of the community?
The second argument reflects a poor psychological grounding since it denies the educational strength of the community. If a child felt ill at ease in a community during first term, it is the duty of the collective of the children to come to his help. The teacher has to create an atmosphere in which it becomes a natural condition for children to help one another. One can find problem children everywhere, more in America, of course, than in Hungary. But a well-knit collective can deal with such tasks, while the teacher by herself can hardly cope.
The third argument is a sad fact, and is the result of the social structure and the country's dimensions. Nevertheless, I think that they should at least aim to hold together the groups of children as long as possible. People move not only because they have to take up another job or because this is what their family circumstances dictate. They also do so when they become better off, being able to afford a larger house in a better district or simply because they have become tired of their house, and do not like to stay on in the same place. I have not even heard of a family that had second thoughts about moving because this meant changing school: But irrespective of moving, the children are transferred from group to group even if they attend the same school for years. The principle of mixing parallel classes had such deep roots that, in each of our experimental schools, changing this practice was out of question. Only one school agreed to keep my music group of Negro nursery-school pupils together for the first term in 1973. This exceptional measure was the result of the full co-operation of the headmistress and the two group mistresses, as a friendly gesture, and in appreciation of the results achieved in the music lessons. The outstanding performance and extraordinary development of the class during the 1973-74 school year, when they were taught by another teacher, a young American who had been the student of our institute was the eating that proved the pudding.
[1] September 1970 to September 1973 the author worked as Director of Research and, later as Consultant of Research, at the Kodály Musical Training Institute, Inc., Wellesley, Massachusetts