6 resultados para Meaning in music
em Bucknell University Digital Commons - Pensilvania - USA
Resumo:
The purpose of this pilot study was to survey prospective undergraduate music education majors to learn what motivated them to aspire to a career in music education. Respondents were candidates auditioning, but not yet accepted, for music teacher preparation programs at four institutions (N = 228). Findings corroborate prior research that suggests that school music teachers and/or private lesson teachers are highly influential. This study sought to quantify the types of experiences participants had in teaching roles at the time of their college audition, supporting other research suggesting that such experiences may increase interest in a music teaching career. Recommendations include engaging music educators at all PreK–12 levels in actively recruiting and encouraging future teachers, providing private instructors and performance majors with teacher recruitment information, emphasizing earlier identification and preparation of prospective educators, and refining and continuing the work begun in this pilot study.
Resumo:
WE STUDIED THE EMOTIONAL RESPONSES BY MUSICIANS to familiar classical music excerpts both when the music was sounded, and when it was imagined.We used continuous response methodology to record response profiles for the dimensions of valence and arousal simultaneously and then on the single dimension of emotionality. The response profiles were compared using cross-correlation analysis, and an analysis of responses to musical feature turning points, which isolate instances of change in musical features thought to influence valence and arousal responses. We found strong similarity between the use of an emotionality arousal scale across the stimuli, regardless of condition (imagined or sounded). A majority of participants were able to create emotional response profiles while imagining the music, which were similar in timing to the response profiles created while listening to the sounded music.We conclude that similar mechanisms may be involved in the processing of emotion in music when the music is sounded and when imagined.
Resumo:
COMPOSERS COMMONLY USE MAJOR OR MINOR SCALES to create different moods in music.Nonmusicians show poor discrimination and classification of this musical dimension; however, they can perform these tasks if the decision is phrased as happy vs. sad.We created pairs of melodies identical except for mode; the first major or minor third or sixth was the critical note that distinguished major from minor mode. Musicians and nonmusicians judged each melody as major vs. minor or happy vs. sad.We collected ERP waveforms, triggered to the onset of the critical note. Musicians showed a late positive component (P3) to the critical note only for the minor melodies, and in both tasks.Nonmusicians could adequately classify the melodies as happy or sad but showed little evidence of processing the critical information. Major appears to be the default mode in music, and musicians and nonmusicians apparently process mode differently.
Resumo:
We explored the ability of older (60-80 years old) and younger (18-23 years old) musicians and nonmusicians to judge the similarity of transposed melodies varying on rhythm, mode, and/or contour (Experiment 1) and to discriminate among melodies differing only in rhythm, mode, or contour (Experiment 2). Similarity ratings did not vary greatly among groups, with tunes differing only by mode being rated as most similar. In the same/different discrimination task, musicians performed better than nonmusicians, but we found no age differences. We also found that discrimination of major from minor tunes was difficult for everyone, even for musicians. Mode is apparently a subtle dimension in music, despite its deliberate use in composition and despite people's ability to label minor as "sad" and major as "happy."
Resumo:
In writing “Not in the Legends”, one of the images and concepts which constantly returned was that of pilgrimage. I began to write these poems while studying abroad in London, after having passed the previous semester in France and travelling around Europe. There was something in the repetition of sightseeing— walking six miles in Luxembourg to see the grave of General Patton, taking photographs of the apartment where Sylvia Plath ended her life, bowing before the bones of saints, searching through Père Lachaise for the grave of Théodore Gericault— which struck me as numinous and morbid. At the same time, I came to love living abroad and I grew discontent with both remaining and returning. I wanted the opportunity to live everywhere all the time and not have to choose between home and away. Returning from abroad, I turned my attention to the landscape of my native country. I found in the New England pilgrims a narrative of people who had left their home in search of growth and freedom. In these journeys I began to appreciate the significance of place and tried to understand what it meant to move from one place to another, how one chose a home, and why people searched for meaning in specific locations. The processes of moving from student to worker and from childhood to adulthood have weighed on me. I began to see these transitions towards maturity as travels to a different land. Memory and nostalgia are their own types of pilgrimage in their attempts to return to lost places, as is the reading of literature. These pilgrimages, real and metaphorical, form the thematic core of the collection. I read the work of many poets who came before me, returning to the places where the Canon was forged. Those poets have a large presence in the work I produced. I wondered how I, as a young poet, could earn my own place in the tradition and sought models in much the same way a painter studies the brushstrokes of a master. In the process, I have tried to uncover what it means to be a poet. Is it something like being a saint? Is it something like being a colonist? Or is to be the one who goes in search of saints and colonists? In trying to measure my own life and work based on the precedent, I have questioned what role era and generation have on the formation of identity. I focused my reading heavily on the early years of English poetry, trying to find the essence of the time when the language first achieved the transcendence of verse. In following the development of English poetry through Coleridge, John Berryman, and Allison Titus, I have explored the progression of those basic virtues in changing contexts. Those bearings, applied to my modern context, helped to shape the poetry I produced. Many of the poems in “Not in the Legends” are based on my own personal experience. In my recollections I have tried to interrogate nostalgia rather than falling into mere reminiscence. Rather than allowing myself poems of love and longing, I have tried to find the meaning of those emotions. A dominant conflict exists between adventure and comfort which mirrors the central engagement with the nature of being “here” or “there”. It is found in scenes of domesticity and wilderness as I attempt to understand my own simultaneous desire for both. For example, in “Canned Mangoes…” the intrusion of nature, even in a context as innocuous as a poem by Sir Walter Raleigh, unravels ordinary comforts of the domestic sphere. The character of “The Boy” from Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot proved such an interesting subject for me because he is one who can transcend the normal boundaries of time and place. The title suggests connections to both place and time. “Legends” features the dual meaning of both myths and the keys to maps. To propose something “Not in the Legends” is to find something which has no precedent in our histories and our geographies, something beyond our field of knowledge and wholly new. One possible interpretation I devised was that each new generation lives a novel existence, the future being the true locus of that which is beyond our understanding. The title comes from Keats’ “Hyperion, a Fragment”, and details the aftermath of the Titanomachy. The Titans, having fallen to the Olympians, are a representation of the passing of one generation for the next. Their dejection is expressed by Saturn, who laments: Not in my own sad breast, Which is its own great judge and searcher out, Can I find reason why ye should be thus: Not in the legends of the first of days… (129-132) The emotions of the conquered Titans are unique and without antecedent. They are experiencing feelings which surpass all others in history. In this, they are the equivalent of the poet who feels that his or her own sufferings are special. In contrast are Whitman’s lines from “Song of Myself” which serve as an epigraph to this collection. He contends for a sense of continuity across time, a realization that youth, age, pleasure, and suffering have always existed and will always exist. Whitman finds consolation in this unity, accepting that kinship with past generations is more important that his own individuality. These opposing views offer two methods of presenting the self in history. The instinct of poetry suggests election. The poet writes because he feels his experiences are special, or because he believes he can serve as a synecdoche for everyone. I have fought this instinct by trying to contextualize myself in history. These poems serve as an attempt at prosopography with my own narrative a piece of the whole. Because the earth abides forever, our new stories get printed over the locations of the old and every place becomes a palimpsest of lives and acts. In this collection I have tried to untangle some of those layers, especially my own, to better understand the sprawling legend of history.