Reconnecting the music-making experience through musician efforts in instrument craft

Abstract

Musical settings that require consumers to construct their own musical instruments serve as potential sites of reconnection between musicians, the musical instruments they make, the natural resources that comprise those instruments, and the labor required to produce them. When musicians reconnect in these ways, they are able to understand and appreciate their musical instruments in new and meaningful ways. This can allow for heightened efforts in instrument care and maintenance; it can also allow for a greater sensitivity to environmental and ethical issues surrounding musical instruments. Data are drawn from a collegiate-level academic percussion musical setting where the musicians composed for and performed on the instruments they made themselves from mostly recycled materials. Group and individual semi-structured interviews and participant observation conducted over the course of summer and fall 2014 reveal the ways these reconnections are possible. This paper is in response to Matsunobu’s (2013) call to further establish instrument craft as an area within music education curricula.

Keywords

Ecomusicology instrument craft percussion reconnection sustainability

Introduction

This paper examines the ways in which reconnection between the actors of the music-making experience is possible when musicians have a hand in making their musical instruments. Since the effects of globalization potentially disconnect producers, consumers, and natural resources (Harvey, 2007; Robbins, 2004), there is a general lack of consideration by consumers for the processes and time required to craft musical instruments. Fostering reconnections between these actors through more active consumer participation in resource-to-product production processes is one way in which disconnection between them can be alleviated (Moran, 2006; Renting and Schermer, 2012), allowing for a more ethically sound, environmentally considerate, and overall more sustainable music-making experience. In the sections below, I will outline my theoretical framework and review the literature that discusses the ways in which instrument craft has enhanced music education curricula for young children and world music. Building on this foundation, I will examine a musical setting that incorporates instrument craft within the context of collegiate-level academic music. This examination will show how musicians can learn about and enjoy striving toward environmental sustainability as they reconnect with their instruments through a more direct participation in instrument craft.

Theoretical framework

This paper is a partner to one I have written for the Ecomusicology Review (Smith, 2016b) that discusses the ways in which musicians can experience reconnection by supporting small-scale local instrument craftspeople. It therefore shares a theoretical framework of what might be considered “cultural organology” that I will paraphrase below.

Instrumental music-making is inherently materialist in that objects, and resources that are used to produce objects, must be consumed in order to make music, but the word “materialist” should not be inaccurately associated with superficiality (Miller, 2013). This is because musical instruments are not just inanimate objects that are simply used to fulfill various functions—they are more than just made, played, and molded into organized sound by humans. Rather, musical instruments are objects with meaning and agency (Allen, 2012; Bates, 2012; Dawe, 2016) that shape human artistic expression, performance technique, physical posture, social relationships, and beyond at every step of human–object interactions. In addition, musical instruments are intrinsically valuable because they are artifacts located within a unique socio-cultural and historical context, and also because they are made from natural living materials that were already intrinsically valuable before they were repurposed into musical instruments (Smith, 2015). If musical instruments are such significant and complex objects, then I argue that musicians should better understand, respect, and value all aspects of their material life.

For this paper, the process of globalization is defined in terms of the connection, or the lack thereof, between all things, though those between people, natural resources, and musical instruments are emphasized. One approach to this definition of globalization, and ecological systems theory for that matter (Carson, Lear, & Wilson, 1962; Muir, 1911; among others), is that all things are connected and are becoming more connected (Friedman 2006; among others); social media allowing for global relationships and transnational corporations that conduct global business are just two of many examples of this understanding. However, this paper uses an alternative approach to this definition that considers processes of globalization to disconnect, rather than connect, production–consumption chains by distancing consumers from producers and natural resources needed to make goods (Harvey, 2007; among others). This is particularly the case in relation to the instruments consumed by academic percussionists, those instrumentalists with the most stuff, of whom I am one. People from around the world often make the instruments that this community consumes from natural materials that are frequently rare and endangered (Allen, 2012; Carmenates, 2009; Ryan, 2015; Rymer, 2004). This disconnected and uninformed brand of consumption is inherently unsustainable because it is coupled with the consumers’ lack of understanding for the people and natural materials needed to produce the objects that allow for instrumental music-making and beyond.

If disconnected production–consumption chains are the norm for most academic percussion instruments, then reconnection must be the first step toward more sustainable and more educational music-making experiences. “Disconnection” and “reconnection” are both terms that are often used in writings on agro-food systems and locally based alternative agriculture about the ways in which people try to understand and value the foods they eat (Sage, 2011; Watts, Ilbery, & Maye, 2005). Musicians can similarly transcend disconnections associated with globalization by reconnecting with the instruments they consume through a more active participation in producing them (Renting and Schermer, 2012). This is not to say that we should all stop what we are doing and make as many instruments as possible, because, of course, that defeats the point entirely; however, if consumption on some level is inevitable, then incorporating instrument craft into educational curricula presents a unique opportunity for musical and non-musical teaching.

The ecomusicological “four-legged stool” model for sustainability (Allen, Titon, & Von Glahn, 2014), then, provides a unique framework for assessing the ways in which incorporating instrument craft might lead to reconnection and ultimately more-sustainable consumption of musical instruments. While traditional tripartite models consider negotiations between the environment, ethics and economics (Collin & Collin, 2010), ecomusicology adds the area of “aesthetics” in order to suggest that efforts in sustainability should also be beautiful and enjoyable. Of course, “aesthetics” in the case of musical instruments can and does refer to the ways in which sustainable products allow for musical artistry and “high quality” sound production. However, the focus of this paper is on the ways reconnection through participation in instrument craft allows students to experience satisfaction in developing a stronger understanding for their instruments, and how it fosters consideration of sustainability as they develop awareness for the environmental and ethical impacts of their consumption. This is to say that people enjoy and value taking part in action that has a positive impact on, or teaches them something about, environmental sustainability (see Allen’s recent work for more on this understanding of aesthetics (forthcoming)).

The state of the literature

Certain sectors of music education have already incorporated instrument craft into their curricula, resulting in enhanced student musical understandings as well as reconnections between students and their musical instruments. For example, Matsunobu (2013) has argued for the validity of instrument-making as an educational area for world music through their study of students who engage in shakuhachi flute-making in Japan. The author “proposes a ‘slow-food’ approach to music education, the one that begins with making instruments as a way of localizing, historicizing, and personalizing each individual’s music-making process” (2013, p. 199). Matsunobu’s informants articulated unique connections with their musical instruments, the bamboo used to construct the instruments, and the music they made with those same instruments (2013, pp. 195–197). Along with this contribution, Matsunobu also provides an in-depth literature review of additional attempts and theorizations of incorporating instrument craft into the world music educational experience. Of these, the author gives mention of certain world music textbooks, such as Titon, Cooley, Locke, McAllester, and Rasmussen’s Worlds of Music: An Introduction to the Music of the World’s Peoples (2008), for the supplementary instrument-making projects they contain. One example of these projects found in the textbook is David McAllester’s section on making a “cow-horn” rattle within their chapter on the music of Native Americans. According to Matsunobu, “the underlying idea of such projects is that being involved in the instrument-making process and embodying genuine sounds are a significant part of musical understanding” (2013, p. 191). Kennedy (2009) has similarly discussed the benefits of incorporating instrument craft into music educational experiences that engage in Indigenous, specifically Coast Salish, methods of learning.

Educational curricula for young children that incorporate instrument craft both present educational benefits and encourage critical consideration of the practice. For example, Matsunobu (2013) reviews the work of Hildebrandt and Zan (2002) and Upitis (1990), who suggest that children who engage in instrument-making can develop an interest in timbre and the science of sound production. Similarly, Soltau (2014) shows the ways the usage of jug bands, recycled orchestras, and experimental instrument ensembles meet music education teaching standards, promote artistry and innovation in students, and encourage them to think about issues of environmental sustainability. On the other hand, Matsunobu critically discusses the many books that are available for young children that serve as instructional guides for making simple instruments out of everyday material such as Hopkin (2009) and Turner (1995). Matsunobu posits that, “the suggested projects in these books may lead to entertaining, one-shot activities, leaving an impression that instrument-making is not a part of music education, the purpose of which is believed to deal more with the ‘serious’ matters of music” (2013, p. 191). In other words, if the instruments that are made through such activities are not meant to be long lasting or taken seriously, students may misconstrue the role of musical instruments and the labor required to make them, potentially overlooking the creative and educational potential of instrument craft. Aside from these attempts to use instrument craft within the curricula for world music and the education of young children, instrument craft is largely absent from educational curricula in North America (Matsunobu, 2013, p. 192).

Justification for the research study

At least at the high school and collegiate levels in the USA, the ways in which the academic music education community theoretically understands the lessons instrument craft can foster are divorced from the extent to which it is actually incorporated in the classroom. Perhaps the benefits of instrument craft’s incorporation are apparent, maybe even repetitious to some, which might explain why, since Matsunobu, Kennedy, and Soltau, there has been little discussion on the topic; and perhaps the absence of consistent application in the classroom is due to the many other professional and musical expectations teachers and students are already held accountable for. However, I argue that this trend might be more engrained in our cultural code than we think. Consumption, perhaps more so than production, is the most fundamental aspect of not only our capitalist system but also our cultural lives, and it is one that is often taken for granted and considered a given (Miller, 1997). To recognize and challenge disconnects between people, musical objects, and the materials used to make musical objects in the music community is to, at least on some level, call into question the construct of consumption itself. Therefore, while the practicality of incorporating instrument craft into music curricula is complicated, and despite the constant adversity that arts education and woodworking programs in public school systems face, from an educational standpoint the lessons offered to students by instrument craft have the potential for profound insight and transformational realizations within music and beyond. For these reasons my recent work has investigated instrument craft in terms of the artistic opportunities that become available when it is allowed to negotiate with other areas of music education (Smith, 2017); I have also discussed how musicians can learn to value the sound aesthetics of alternative materials equally to those of more traditional but environmentally problematic materials through the creation of new musical contexts (Smith, 2016a).

This paper continues the discussion of instrument craft as an educational area through an assessment of a collegiate-level academic music-making experience in the USA that incorporates instrument craft. It serves to establish further the musical, environmental, and educational relevance that instrument craft can offer music-making in general. The practice of instrument craft within academic music is often literally and figuratively disconnected from the universities, colleges, and conservatories where academic music is practiced. Third-party instrument companies and makers are mostly responsible for the making of musical instruments. Settings that require consumers to construct their own musical instruments, then, serve as potential sites of reconnection between musicians, the musical instruments they make, the natural resources that comprise those instruments, and the labor required to produce them. The ecomusicological four-legged stool model for sustainability provides a framework for understanding how when musicians experience reconnection, they are able to understand and appreciate, and enjoy understanding and appreciating, their musical instruments in new and meaningful ways. These developed understandings and appreciations can allow for heightened efforts in instrument care and maintenance; they can also allow for greater musician sensitivity to topics related to the sustainability of musical instruments. As a result, this paper argues for a more widespread incorporation of instrument craft into music education curricula by emphasizing the primarily non-musical “aesthetic” educational potential the practice offers.

Overview of the research study

The data in this paper are drawn from ethnographic research I conducted with the percussion sextet Los Bandidos, which is comprised of Michigan State University percussion music education and performance students, of which I am a member. This ensemble composed for and performed on the instruments they made themselves from mostly more sustainable and reused resources, a process I documented with ethnographic research methods such as participant observation and interviews with consultants. I chose to enlist this ensemble for the project because we had already developed a relationship with one another having played together over the course of the year prior; this pre-established relationship was important since the participants might potentially commit substantial amounts of time to assist with the instrument construction process even though this portion of the project would be considered extracurricular—some students, however, were able to receive independent study credit toward their “honors option” for the honors college. Participants were enrolled in percussion ensemble credits meaning that the only aspect of the project they were required to participate in was the rehearsal of our piece. Regardless, participants were interested in the instrument craft process, which is why we coordinated time during the summer to complete most of the construction so that it would be convenient for all of our schedules. The purchase of materials used to make the instruments was funded by the MSU College of Music and Graduate School.

I decided to employ the methodology of participatory action research (Lassiter, 2005; Stringer, 2013) since I was the only person in the group that possessed the tools and qualifications to build professional-quality musical instruments and as a result would be simultaneously conducting research, taking part in the study, and educating others in instrument craft. According to Stringer, “[action research’s] primary purpose is as a practical tool for developing solutions to problems experienced by stakeholders in the context. If an action research project does not make a difference, in a specific way, for practitioners or their clients, then it has failed to achieve its objective” (2013, pp. 10–11). Stringer also says that an action researcher’s “role is not to impose but to stimulate people to change” and to “enable people to develop their own analysis of their issues” (2013, p. 43). With this understanding, my research project admittedly included an activist component since I had previously been impacted by the educational potential of learning how to make my own musical instrument. I wanted others to experience the process for themselves and then make their own decisions about the social and musical relevance of instrument craft.

Collaboration and a shared division of power are two other components of participatory action research that I tried to incorporate into my research methods (Lassiter, 2005, p. 12). In an effort to maintain consultant interest, and also to make the project as collaborative and mutually beneficial as possible, I allowed them to pick the various instruments we would make and the style of our composition. I also encouraged them to suggest ways that participation in my project could lead to professional benefits in their own respective careers so that we could find ways of incorporating those suggestions into the project—for example, a couple of my music education consultants thought it would be valuable for them to learn how to make a cajón since its construction is relatively simple and they might want to make one with their future students. Therefore, over the course of summer and fall 2014, Los Bandidos constructed two glass marimbas (Figure 1), a cajón (Figure 2), and several other auxiliary instruments. Our piece, Um quarto é mais, is composed specifically for these instruments and was premiered at the MSU Percussion Ensemble Concert on 5 November (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5CQT5s0jWo8). Finally, consultants were frequently informed of the project’s progress during both the fieldwork and the writing stages; they were also regularly sent sections of my writing for their review and commentary.

Figure 1.

Glass marimbas.

Figure 2.

Cajón.

In order to better understand the extent to which reconnections were possible within this musical setting that incorporated instrument craft, I solicited semi-structured interviews (Hammersley and Atkinson, 2007, pp. 124–156) with members of the ensemble over the course of the project. I conducted three group interviews with every member of the sextet in attendance: one before the project began, one after most of the instrument construction was completed, and one just before the percussion ensemble concert. One round of individual interviews with each member of the sextet was also conducted about the same time as the second group interview. This approach was eventually abandoned since most of the consultants seemed more comfortable in the group interview setting, making group interviews generally more productive, not to mention more considerate of the consultants’ time. The original justification for conducting both individual and group interviews was to notice any differences in observations articulated by my consultants when they were thinking alone versus when they were bouncing ideas off of one another. The questions I asked were general in nature. For example, in our first group interview I provided an overview of the intended project and then asked consultants to reflect on the description I provided. In the second group interview I asked the consultants to talk about their perceptions of the instrument-making process, what they thought about the instruments and the work they had done, and if the music education students would consider incorporating instrument craft into their future curricula. In the third group interview I asked the consultants to reflect on the challenges we faced in the instrument repair, composition, and performance portions of the project, and their perceptions of performing on instruments they had made themselves.

Data was coded using the three-step method outlined by Emerson, Fretz, and Shaw (2011, pp. 309–355): close reading, open coding, and writing memos that clarify the codes produced during open coding. First, I took each interview and read through it several times in its entirety in order to refresh my memory of the context of the interview. Then I read through line by line assigning unpremeditated subcodes as necessary in the margins by using the Microsoft Word comment feature. Next, I organized subcodes into larger subcodes by writing memos to help me make thematic connections between the words of my consultants. Eventually, I was able to organize the majority of these subcodes into two primary categories: (a) reconnections associated with instrument craft and (b) reconnections associated with musical instruments. The following sections of this paper are organized in these ways. While the majority of the most relevant codes related to reconnection are included in this paper, many of my consultants’ words on the various topics are not. The quantity of data did not allow me to include everything, but I have tried to select the excerpts that best represent each topic.

Reconnecting with instrument craft

My consultants articulated their newfound appreciation of the labor required to make musical instruments as a result of their experiencing its difficult, tedious, and time-consuming nature. A large part of these realizations was the product of discovering certain less-enjoyable aspects of instrument craft. According to Caleb Goncz,

Are these the official words you are writing? Just kidding. No, I thought [the process] made sense, … and I knew why we had to do everything. It really was not fun sometimes. … I shouldn’t say “not fun.” It was like very mind numbing to an extent. … But I think it was good in general. I didn’t find it to be totally awful. (C. Goncz, interview, 7 September 2014)

Though the other consultants generally shared Caleb’s sentiment, they all understood that the tedious nature of the construction process was necessary for the completion of the project. In fact, some consultants eventually found value in these same repetitive tasks because of the meditative mindset their performance required.

Participation in instrument craft, then, is an educational process that develops human appreciation for both musical instruments themselves and the time and energy required to make them. Going into this project, members of Los Bandidos had never constructed instruments with the intent of producing a product comparable to those of professional percussion instrument companies. As a result, many of us experienced for the first time the heightened level of detail and precision that was necessary in order to craft our instruments. According to Jon Wright,

[The process] was also rather informative. Something I remember thinking before we started was that I didn’t really know what to expect since I had never done anything like this. And so, working on both the glass marimba and the cajón, it was informative in the sense that I didn’t really realize just how many steps there were to get from these pieces of wood to, bam, finished product. (J. Wright, interview, 7 September 2014)

In these ways, musicians who participate in instrument craft are able to reconnect with their musical instruments through a firsthand understanding of the labor required to make them.

My consultants were drawn to the ways in which the physical results of their craft could lead to strong senses of accomplishment. Over the course of the month Los Bandidos constructed their instruments, the members could see steady progress in their work.

The whole thing to me felt rewarding just in the sense that you could see things getting done. There is something to be said about a finished project, because so many things in music are never finished. You never get there. And although the instrument can go through certain improvements, it always seemed like you were getting closer and closer to an end goal. (J. Weber, group interview, 7 September 2014)

Though these sensations of accomplishment were strong, they were also often temporary and recurring. Even after Dr. Weber made this statement, the glass marimbas in particular went through several more revisions in terms of the ways in which they were designed and constructed. Yet, consultants reported the same strong sensations of accomplishment whenever a revision was completed.

For Dr. Weber and some of the other consultants, these sensations are different from those more commonly experienced when writing and performing music as composers and performers within the academic music tradition. For example, the night the first glass marimba was completed Caleb and I worked from 12:00 p.m. to 12:00 a.m. until the instrument was fully assembled. Normally we would finish working around 8:00 p.m., but on this day our excitement for completing the first instrument and our curiosity for how it might sound motivated us to work well into the evening, disregarding our appetites and fatigue. This type of workday was rather commonplace over the course of the project as members of Los Bandidos experienced unique sentiments of accomplishment regarding the instruments they made. Perhaps the perceived differences regarding sentiments of accomplishment between instrument craft and areas of performance and composition are the product of the more physical results associated with making an instrument—those that can be easily seen, heard, and experienced upon the completion of any step in the construction process. These sentiments may also be the result of members of Los Bandidos experiencing instrument craft for the first time.

Los Bandidos spoke about the ways our collaborative, interactive, and group process of instrument craft led to strengthened relationships and community. As previously mentioned, consultants voluntarily participated to some degree in the construction of our musical instruments over the course of a month. Often multiple people were working in the instrument shop at the same time. In addition, social activity such as group conversation and listening to music was commonplace during work hours. These frequent and shared interactions working on the instruments together further developed our preexisting social bonds. According to Cody Edgerton,

The uniqueness of building an instrument as a group is really cool because of the manual labor that goes into it. And spending the hours building the instrument also means spending hours together. And even if it means coming in and doing one thing and spending hours doing the same exact thing, and getting upset, and then being really excited when it happens; I think that only benefits the group by a lot, in having done that together. (C. Edgerton, group interview, 4 September 2014)

For Cody, the labor involved with making these musical instruments presented a shared experience between the members of Los Bandidos that brought the group closer together. Even though individuals were able to participate in the construction process at varying degrees, and even though the entire group was rarely in attendance at the same time, the fact that we all shared an understanding for the labor necessary to make our instruments provided a source of communal value. Similar sentiments of connection with other members of the group were experienced during the performance of our piece Um Quarto é Mais. According to Joel Block,

It feels familial. We’ve all poured some sort of energy into this project, and for us to be able to go and share this with our friends and colleagues, it feels like a family. It feels like we’ve done something together. (J. Block, group interview, 5 November 2014)

Musical settings that incorporate instrument craft, then, might affect musician experiences in composition and performance. In this case, the bonds that were developed between members of Los Bandidos during the construction process allowed for a uniquely meaningful performance experience.

Members of Los Bandidos who were music education majors in particular suggested that they would consider doing a project of this nature with their future students. Cody Edgerton, Jon Wright, and Caleb Goncz articulated that they might use instrument craft as a method for teaching their future students about instrument appreciation. According to Caleb,

[I would] definitely [use this as a teaching tool], if you want [students] to appreciate their instrument as much as possible, other than … that this is a musical instrument that is very expensive. It’s like, this is a lot of labor, a lot of very careful, devoted work, and a lot of absolute artisanship, made into something that’s very expensive. But still, you have a lot more behind it than this is expensive because someone made it, so it’s more like, this is expensive because it’s worth it, and because it is this very musically rich thing. (C. Goncz, interview, 7 September 2014)

For Caleb, a musical instrument is an object that is valuable musically, socially, culturally, and monetarily. Incorporating instrument craft into educational curricula might effectively transmit these many layers of value to other students.

Reconnecting with musical instruments

When asked to reflect on the act of performing on instruments we made ourselves, members of Los Bandidos most commonly articulated sentiments of pride.

It’s certainly pretty cool, you know. Like doing the resonators for example. That was a lot of fun, and every time I see them it’s like, “Alright, I built those things.” And it’s a pretty cool experience to finally present them here at the concert and be able to say, “Hey, this stuff on stage, we built this, or had a hand in building this.” (C. Goncz, group interview, 5 November 2014)

This consultant’s statement demonstrates a personal pride for an aspect of a made instrument. It also shows a way in which pride is experienced when the instruments are shared with listeners through performance. In this case, not only can musicians be proud of their performance or composition, but also they can experience similar sentiments for an instrument they have made, and then those sentiments may be strengthened as a result of the musicians having a hand in all aspects of the creative process.

Members of Los Bandidos generally articulated that they experienced stronger sentiments of pride for and personal connection with the instruments that they were more involved with making. During the construction process multiple people would be working in the shop at the same time and on different projects. In order to ensure consistency and efficiency, certain individuals often worked on specific instruments. This allowed for personal connections between the members of Los Bandidos and the instruments they made. According to Caleb,

I guess I am most proud of whatever I worked on the most, so the first being the glass marimba. [My feelings toward it] are certainly different from the cajón, because you and Jon [made that] mostly. The glass marimba to me feels like more of my own since I guess I was more responsible for that than anything else. But not my own, you know what I mean, it’s just more personal. (C. Goncz, interview, 7 September 2014)

Once the instruments were completed and rehearsals for our piece Um quarto é mais began, individuals played the instrument that they had the most involvement making. Caleb also commented on the uniqueness of the experience performing on the instrument they made.

Playing on the marimba I made is certainly different from playing on something else. It wouldn’t feel the same, necessarily; it definitely feels better to be playing on that instrument. Even if I were playing on the second glass marimba it would be different, because I had a lot bigger hand in making the first one. It’s like “the one,” you know; it definitely makes a difference. (C. Goncz, group interview, 5 November 2014)

Caleb’s statements suggest that a stronger connection can exist between musicians and musical instruments when musicians are more involved with their construction. These connections can lead to a more sensitive consideration of musical instruments in general.

Musicians who participate in the instrument craft of their instrument might also perceive and understand musical instruments that they have not made in new ways. For example, members of Los Bandidos expressed that constructing their own instruments encouraged them to consider how other percussion instruments might have also been constructed. According to Jon Wright,

It makes me think about the process that went into developing what we know as the modern marimba. So, we made the two glass marimbas with no real prior experience making specifically glass marimbas. We didn’t know what it would sound like or how it would work. Even by the second one we made it sounded better and we got better at making it. So, I’m wondering like how many times when they were first coming up with the concept of what is now the marimba … how long did that process of refining techniques and stuff last? I’d never really thought about that before. (J. Wright, interview, 7 September 2014)

Jon’s comment reflects an appreciation for the creative process of instrument makers and companies that have artistically and innovatively developed the ways instruments are made. Additionally, the consultants gained an appreciation of the labor required to make musical instruments, resulting in a greater appreciation and understanding of musical instruments and their production processes in general. According to Caleb,

Just like the perspective of it all. While I knew what the five-octave marimba was, [like the one we have in the percussion studio at MSU], … and I knew where it came from, it still feels like I know more about it now even though I don’t. Like I don’t know any more about that marimba, that specific five-octave instrument that we have, but it feels like I do, just because of the process that I saw, or at least experienced [in making our own instruments] … It’s almost like instrument appreciation. (C. Goncz, interview, 7 September 2014)

Musicians of such experiences might also become more aware and sensitive to topics related to the sustainability of musical instruments. For example, one member of Los Bandidos became more aware of their own personal disconnections from the production processes of percussion instruments they used on a daily basis.

When we were messing around with the glass marimbas the other day and I looked over and there is this giant monster of a five-octave marimba. It’s like so weird … we went through all this work and there is this mass-produced thing … this marimba that, you know, we aren’t the only ones that have this kind of instrument. Obviously, that’s the only exact one, but it’s almost like it was more impressive that the glass marimba was there than the five-octave. That’s kind of what it feels like. It’s weird. It’s kind of like we went through all this work for this awesome thing. And while the five-octave is awesome too, this is awesome; the glass marimba is awesome in a different way. (C. Goncz, interview, 7 September 2014)

In this sense, both Caleb’s connection to the instrument he made along with the uniqueness of the instrument itself presented alternative sources for value. And as a result of having made his own musical instruments, Caleb now has become aware of norms associated with the culture of consumption. Similarly, Cody Edgerton found value in the aesthetic qualities of the glass marimbas despite the fact that they feature what might most often be considered physical imperfections.

I think the more-typical instruments we have are beautiful, but in a sense, they are very factory-made. You know, they’re replicated, it has been done before. Whereas the glass marimbas kind of have a rawness about them that I think almost makes them more beautiful as instruments. That’s not something that can be replicated easily. (C. Edgerton, group interview, 7 September 2014)

Musicians who experience reconnection to and appreciation for their instruments in these ways might search to participate in musical settings that allow for similar experiences in the future.

Conclusion

This paper is in response to Matsunobu’s call to further establish instrument craft as an area within music education curricula. It has provided a setting within the context of academic music in the USA outside educational curricula for young children and world music that have been the focus of most scholarly dialogue.

Globalized markets often disconnect production from consumption, meaning that musicians must be increasingly aware of the social, economic, and environmental consequences of making musical instruments. In my paper “Reconnecting the actors of the music-making experience: Supporting small-scale local craftsmanship in the academic percussion community” (2016b), I suggest that reconnections between the actors of the music-making experience are possible when musicians participate more directly in the production of their instruments, namely via the support of small-scale local marimba instrument craft. This paper suggests that another avenue for reconnection is possible when musicians themselves take part in constructing their own instruments. I have discussed the reconnections unique to such practice in relation to the musical setting with the percussion sextet Los Bandidos, who composed for and performed on instruments they made with mostly sustainable and reused resources.

This setting with Los Bandidos allows for musician reconnections with the labor required to make musical instruments. For members of Los Bandidos, participating in making their own instruments allowed for deeper understandings and appreciations for the construction processes of musical instruments in general. Also, members of Los Bandidos often articulated that facing the challenges of instrument craft as a group enabled their personal relationships with other members to strengthen. Some members have suggested that their experiences making their own instruments were rewarding to the point that they will use similar methods to teach instrument appreciation as future music educators. This suggests that musical settings that incorporate instrument craft are transformational, in that the lessons of reconnection and sustainability that consultants enjoy can lead to continued and lifelong pursuit of them. Further research should investigate the extent to which this is so.

Through their involvement with instrument craft, Los Bandidos were able to experience reconnection with the musical instruments they made. Members most commonly articulated sentiments of pride for the work they had done, specifically in relation to the instruments on which they had spent most of their time. This sensitivity toward their own musical instruments translated to similar sentiments for musical instruments in general, leading to heightened awareness for issues of sustainability in the academic music community. These understandings lay the foundation for more sincere efforts in musical instrument care, maintenance, and appreciation.

The ecomusicological four-legged stool model for sustainability that incorporates the fourth component of aesthetics provides a framework for understanding the educational potential of the setting with Los Bandidos. Of course, and as I have written about elsewhere (Smith, 2017), aesthetics can refer to the ways in which both the sounds of more sustainable musical instruments might be enjoyable and the pieces written for these instruments might demonstrate artistry and innovation, but the focus of this paper has been on how people value and enjoy the non-musical lessons they learn from taking part in more sustainable efforts in instrument craft. As the interviews with my consultants have shown, these can largely be classified by reconnections with the labor required to make musical instruments and reconnections with musical instruments themselves.

This paper contributes to an ongoing discussion (Kennedy, 2009; Matsunobu, 2013; Soltau, 2014) on the implications for music education that arise when instrument craft is incorporated into music curricula. More importantly, it suggests that music educators can be, and I believe should be, responsible for an education that is not strictly limited to the performance side of music, but for one that takes on a more holistic view of the topics we consider to be musical. I argue that instrument craft is not a separate endeavor from other musical processes such as performance, composition, theory, or musicology. When instrument craft is incorporated with these other areas, the gained appreciation and understanding for all aspects related to the labor required to make musical instruments and the instruments themselves are now a part of the educational process. In other words, these more socio-cultural lessons associated with incorporating instrument craft into the music-making experience are also music education.

Footnotes

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank all of Los Bandidos (Joel Block, Caleb Goncz, Cody Edgerton, and Jon Wright) who contributed performances, labor, and time to this project. I would also like to thank Dr Michael Largey, Dr Jon Weber, Professor Gwen Dease, and Dr Ken Prouty for their ongoing support of my work.

Funding

I am thankful for the funding support provided by the MSU College of Music and Graduate School, the MSU Federal Credit Union Running Start Competition, and the Michigan Traditional Arts Apprenticeship Program.

ORCID iD

Alex Smith

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