Showing posts with label Online collaboration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Online collaboration. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

A digital trobairitz: musical chivalry in the cyberspace age

This post is the abstract for my paper at the Annual Conference of the Musicological Society of Australia in December 2012


Recent tectonic shifts in the economics of music (and by extension, its political economy) have generated unprecedented challenges: for the music industries; for those concerned with defining and applying musical intellectual property; for the technologies of the production and distribution of music, both live and recorded;  and for the artists themselves.  It is hard to believe that it has only been a decade since Napster first made headlines as a threat to the hegemony of the CD-based recording industry.  Ten years on, not only is the music CD in the last yards of its journey towards obsolescence, it is more-or-less accepted that the battle to control (and sell) the intellectual property of recorded music as a commodity has been lost.  Social media are rapidly challenging mainstream media as the conduit for distributing, accessing, discussing, marketing and discovering music and musicians.  Recorded music is now, to all intents and purposes, free.

Photo by Brian Adams, http://baphotos.com.
Marian Call is an Alaskan singer-songwriter who is one of a cohort of emerging musicians building a career and a creative oeuvre within these new realities.  Classically trained and university educated  (she is a composition graduate from Stanford), she writes and performs songs that span genres from medieval, classical, jazz, folk/acoustic and many others.  She eschews contracts and labels - her audience base is entirely self-generated through social media and a frenetic touring schedule.  On tour she prefers house concerts to traditional venues – she will typically crowdsource venues via Twitter in advance of a tour, and rely on her supporters and followers on social media to publicize the event locally.  She is currently (Oct. ’12) touring Europe on this basis – a major logistic collaboration between Call and her supporters that she describes as “like a barn-raising”. Audiences at concerts are encouraged, but not required, to make a donation; similarly, her music is freely streamed online, and payment for the recordings are essentially a matter of honour.

Essentially, Call’s artistic and business practice diminishes or removes the notion of music as a commodity, an object of transaction. Instead, the emphasis is placed on relationships, or community – she has critiques the description of her as an indie or independent artist, suggesting that a better term is an “interdependent” artist.  In this paper I argue that this shift from music as commercial commodity to music as community catalyst has profound implications not just for the business  models of music, but for its aesthetics and semantics.  Call’s authorial voice within her music speaks and sings to and with her audience on a number of levels – literally, in the case of “Good Morning Moon” in which she sourced the chorus in the song as sound files individually submitted by her supporters.  Her music has an authenticity of expression and an imaginative range that, I argue, stems from its basis in a communicative premise that is, at root, ethical in nature – a code of musical chivalry that underpins the virtual and actual encounters on her journey as a modern-day trobairitz.
 

Monday, June 20, 2011

Online learning - why bother?

So this is a blogpost as rant/cry for help. I have read plenty of these before, but never written one.

I'm Head of Musicology at ANU School of Music, and Chair of the Education Committee there.

My main responsibilities in the first job are to coordinate the academic areas of music students' study - music history, cultural inquiry, music theory and analysis, non-western musics - and to teach the first-year course in same (of course the most important course the students take!). I'm just coming off a hugely successful blended course in first semester, about which I am presenting at Moodle Moot AU in a month.

In the second part of my job (Chair of Education Committee) I'm responsible for coordinating the introduction of a wholly new BMus degree by 2013, one that is built upon principles of flexibility, student-centered learning, and makes full use of current and future learning technologies.

Just now, I have had to make a change in staffing for music theory teaching in semester 2: the person scheduled to teach it now won't be. So, looking to make an opportunity out of adversity, I decided to teach the course myself, online.

Now, this makes excellent pedagogic sense. Learning music theory requires students to learn a set of skills and concepts that are essentially compositional: how to put notes together to make coherent structures of pitch and voice. They do this individually - while I am a big fan of group learning, music theory is probably one thing that needs an individual focus. But the plus side of this is that students can work at their own pace - theory is probably best taught asynchronously, with the students having as much (or as little) time as they need to tinker, to get it right. There is minimal "content" - the notion of a music theory lecture is almost absurd. The students need to practise these skills, sometimes many times (thus whetting my appetite for a gaming-based course progression). They need individual feedback on their attempts - an individual dialogue with me the tutor. They above all need to hear their work, see it written down, and make corrections - music theory is an ideal instance for multimedia learning.

For all these reasons, music theory is just made for online learning, if it's put together well. I intend to put together 16 or so 15-minute podcasts - all of which can be accessed from the beginning of the course - with me talking through some concepts and examples while the student see them unfold on the score. The students will then work through some examples themselves, which I'll post as MusicXML files; they can upload their attempts, with questions, and I'll give them feedback.  As they successfully complete the exercises, this will unlock new pathways and concepts.  I'll stream the students into groups on Moodle so they can see the questions and feedback of students at about their level. I'll give extension/creative work for the students who really have a flair, and who want to extend the slightly artificial world of the harmony exercise into full-blown composition. Finally, I'll offer a two-hour "drop in" face-to-face opportunity each week, if the students really and literally need me to hold their hands as they complete these exercises. Summative assessment will by the submission of a folio of sixteen completed exercises. They can do all these in week one, or in week twelve, or do one or two a week - whatever suits them.

Now the rant part.

So, I explain all this to my colleagues who I am supposedly leading to a bold new educational future, expecting at the very least some thanks for bailing them out of a difficult staffing situation. But what do I get? Sheer, unadulterated horror at the idea of the students not getting "face-to-face support". An automatic assumption that online learning is to save time and cut corners. That is is second-rate. One colleague, a very nice guy, even offered to take some tutorials himself, if I didn't have time, so "the students weren't disadvantaged".

I patiently explained that the students were going to be better supported this way than if I had crammed them into tutorial groups of twenty and spent two hours wandering about looking over their shoulders correcting consecutive fifths; that in fact, doing it online was going to take considerably more of my time than doing it face-to-face (LOTS of preparation time and LOTS of feedback time, whereas face to face I could literally do with no preparation, half asleep); but that the reason why I'd teach it online was to give the students a better-quality learning experience.

No dice. The colleagues offered sheer, blank incomprehension of this argument; worse, a smug certainty that, whatever I said, they were never going to question their own assumption that being in the holy physical presence of the divine lecturer was going to be a superior learning experience, come what may.

Must be something in the deodorant they wear, I guess.

So, frankly, I'm wondering why I should even bother. I'm going to be putting myself out doing something innovative (but not all that innovative!), something better - but I'll have several vultures looking over my shoulder waiting for something to go wrong. I feel like binning the whole idea, and hiring some matronly back-room piano teacher to drill the poor buggers in cadences, Dulcie Holland style, for two hours a week for thirteen weeks.

I'm not going to, of course. I'm going to go ahead with my plans. But I'd really appreciate some moral support from the eLearning crowd who might have been here before.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Help!

Well, it's actually another Beatles song I'm interested in ...

I'm working (belatedly; it's a time-consuming business not making bomb threats against a national newspaper) on a submission for Savannah Ganster's Love project.

What I need - quickly - is as many people as possble from around the world to record themselves singing the chorus from the Beatles song "All you need is love". Just these words:

All you need is love
All you need is love
All you need is love, love
Love is all you need.



I'm going to mash it up into an international chorus for world peace ;-) Or something like that.

Don't worry about being in time, in tune, at the right pitch or anything like that. I will use your voice as part of an internet chorus - it will all be processed electronically, so don't worry about how good you sound! I know people get nervous about singing in public - don't be. I'm going to get my kids to do it - if you have some, why not get them too?

Thing is, the project is already a bit overdue and I need your voice ASAP. So don't spend an age agonizing or practising - send an mp3 (or any other sound) file to jonathan.powles@gmail.com. Please! It will only take a minute and the outcome will be something lovely and genuinely international.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Wanted: images of the sea ...

Thank you to all those who contributed tweets for my music project (now entitled Strands).  There were over eighty tweets by more than twenty poets, and everybody has got at least a few words in the final version.

 The performance will be at the National Library of Australia on Sunday 31 October, 6.30 p.m. Australian Eastern Summer Time (7.30 am GMT).  During the performance, images of the sea, ships, shorelines, waves and ocean will be projected onto the marble walls of the library, behind the choir.

I'm now searching for images, and thought it would be nice if, like the text,they were contributed from twitteres around the world.

So - wanted: striking images of the sea.  Unusual is good.  Anything that conveys the concept of twitter as an electric sea, connecting us all together as the more aquatic version has done for millenia is even better.  Tweet them as twitpics to me, @jonpowles, and/or with the hashtag #strands

Friday, July 30, 2010

Tweets in Harmony

This is a plea for help from some tweeting poets!

At the end of October, the Australian National University Choral Society is performing a concert at the National Library of Australia. The concert consists of American and Australian choral pieces, dealing with the themes of migration, journeys by sea, and the mixing of cultures. We're performing a new work, Freedom of the Sea by Ruth Lee Martin especially written for us setting poetry by Canberra writer Alan Gould; Anne Boyd's As I Crossed a Bridge of Dreams; Cloudburst by American composer Eric Whitacre; some nineteenth-century ballads from the Library's collection of early Australian sheet music; and some Negro spirituals.

We're also doing a new work by me.  Here's were the plea comes in.

The sea has always functioned to connect, and to separate.  This is the thread that connects all the pieces in the concert.  Without wanting to seem too poncey, it strikes me that in some ways the twenty-first century the twitterverse is a "sea", with messages in bottles pinging around the worlds electronic oceans, connecting us yet reminding us of our separation.  To receive a "letter from home", from England, in the 1820s took six months.  Now I can read a tweet from Devon in milliseconds.  But has all that much changed?

So I decided that my piece would be a setting of tweets from around the world; micropoems exploring the ideas of migration, distance, journeys ....

Partly, the idea came to me when I read a tweeted poem of David Merrylees that I really love.  It's this haiku:

park bench, names carved deep
this place, distant voices float 
silver strand of brogue

I've asked David if I can use his poem in my piece; it captures exactly what I'm looking for.

So, I'm interested in receiving poems of 140 characters or less on the themes I have mentioned: migration, sea voyages, separated families, distance, oceans.  For structural reasons I won't go into, the poem needs to contain at least one of these words: sea, strand, ocean, ship, waves, journey, float, home.

Oh, and please tweet them!  Tweet them @jonpowles if they fit; if not, tweet them and copy them here as a comment.  But I want to know they are actual genuine messages in bottles that have really been set loose on the twitter sea ...

If I have your permission, I'll then set them to music.  You'll get full acknowledgement as author, of course :-)

Thanks

Jonathan