Sarah Stiles Free Improvisation in String Teaching
News & views, European String Teachers Association


Sarah Stiles lives and works in Holland where she composes and teaches. In two new books published by Stainer & Bell she sets out musical ideas and pieces incorporating the theme of Free Improvisation, challenging both players and teachers who are open to a new and liberating way of making music. Her aim is to pass on her passion for improvisation to other string players, which she does in courses and workshops both for students and teachers.
One of my favourite parts of teaching is to use improvisational elements in the lesson. How and why this came about I can trace back to my time spent in a post as peripatetic violin teacher in Wiltshire. This certainly came as a shock after my more relaxed private practice I had previously enjoyed, though I should add that it was also a great experience in itself. I particularly remember the bits in between lessons, bombing around all those country lanes as I travelled from school to school. When a pupil was ill this meant a rare sandwich and coffee in some scenic place by a river. Most of the time, however, it was more like being on a rushed schedule, devised on the basis of 'pack as many in as possible in the shortest time'. Have things changed, I wonder, since I moved to Holland?

I had several categories of pupils, which I classed as:
1. Quick learners
2. Slow learners (but no less satisfying to teach)
3. Sweet pupils
4. Far from sweet pupils
5. Impossible pupils - whom I subsequently labelled as 'challenging'

It is category five which were used as my first guinea pigs. The material which these pupils had been given previously (labelled by them as 'boring') was thrown out the window - quite literally in one case. As an alternative, I gave one particular pupil some Irish jigs to play. He took to them immediately, and it was memorising them and playing them freely by heart that gave him most pleasure. We played these together in our lessons and he was miraculously transformed from a category five into a category three.

I moved to Holland in 1987 to play in a Dutch Orchestra. I didn't last long; after six months of being stuck behind a music stand, being directed by a conductor who did things in a way I would have liked done differently and not having that certain freedom that I obviously hankered for, I decided that it was time to move on. This resulted in my being involved in many subsequent projects, including jazz, music-theatre, Russian, Turkish, Irish, Mexican and Hungarian music, my own pop group, and my passion: Free Improvised music. It was these developments that gave to my journey as a teacher and musician the direction in which I am now travelling. In a nutshell, I wanted to pass on to my pupils the same freedom that I felt when I played. I wanted them to have that feeling too. This resulted in more trials on other poor unsuspecting guinea pigs, and these experiences I have now incorporated into my particular way of string teaching today.

But it is not only a category five that merits the 'alternative approach'. Improvising is fun for everybody. It really loosens up players (and teachers) and is a relief to many who often find notes, paper and technique a chore, those who know it's necessary to learn these things, but unnecessary to do them all the time. It has many additional educational advantages, too; it is useful in ensemble playing in general, for example, and a wonderful exercise in Listening, which is and always will be a key factor in all music-making. I nearly always start pupils off with a Question and Answer session whereby they invent an answer to a simple phrase I play. I'm not only talking about notes here. Sounds, squeaks, tapping, knocking, plucking, scraping - you name it we do it. Those really ugly sounds get them going; break the ice, let them know this is going to be different. Playing without music in front of them becomes suddenly very liberating.

And when we play a piece of music together, I sometimes use very simple themes where the music might go in any direction. It's not about pop or jazz improvisations, which for some people (teachers included) can be just as constraining. I encourage the students to use some of the ideas they hear in the written sections of music and use these in their improvisation. But sometimes there is no structure in the piece in the conventional sense. It is all about feeling, listening and reacting. I encourage students to combine conventional notes with more unusual sounds. And when it comes to this area of string playing it is a large source of much exploration and enjoyment.

One piece, called 'Cheese Grater' (from Violin Stuff, published by Uitgeverij De Toorts) uses only what I call 'grate notes'. The whole piece including the improvisation is built around the delightful noise that so many pupils instinctively love doing: scraping the bow over the string to make that distinctive grating sound. Most students are amazed how you can get away with this sort of behaviour in a lesson. It's nearly impossible to play a duet without doubling up with laughter. But on an educative basis it still has value: pupils are encouraged to really listen hard and concentrate on what the other player is doing. How long or short is that grate? How frequent? How ugly? From a parent's point of view however, it may provoke the shouting up the stairs reaction of 'is that what you call practising?'.

On the other hand, 'Translation' (from Dual Band, recently published by Stainer & Bell) consists entirely of symbols. The student can interpret each line or squiggle as he or she wants. There is no improvisation section, and this is sometimes handy as a step to precede the idea of improvising. By first introducing a different sort of freedom without saying 'and now play an improvisation' some students who feel awkward often relax and play some wonderful things.

A lot of the pieces I use for my improvisation course are also conventionally note-based, with sections of written music followed by an improvisation section. Depending on the standard of the students, the written sections can be more challenging for those pupils who are a lot further advanced. The improvisation in turn can be as easy or difficult as the player chooses, depending on their skills, their interaction with other players, or even the mood they are in. I also like to make the music accessible to others, and include ideas at the end of each piece so that everybody can have a go. I notice that a lot of teachers really are keen on the idea of doing this sort of thing in lessons, but are confined by their own insecurities as to how to go about it. When they eventually try it out they find they are discovering just as much about their instrument as the pupil does. Teaching improvisation with the material I use is quite adaptable in the sense that the instrumental parts are often interchangeable. For example, In 'Translation', what does it matter if you play the piece with two violins or two violas, or a viola and cello? The possible problems in difference of register encountered in a conventional, composed piece of music are compensated for by the careful listening of the two players involved. They adapt to eachother and make the music make sense.

This thought led me to write Impro (to be published by Stainer & Bell, Summer 2002), which is for all string teachers, teaching any combination of stringed instruments. There is one piece in the book of which I am particularly fond. It consists of only three written bars; no pitches - the players choose their own notes. This simple idea can flower into a most beautiful piece of music just by the players listening to what the other is playing. It could sound baroque or classical or modern - the direction is unpredictable and relies totally on the mood and choice of the two players involved.

Sometime ago I became ill and was diagnosed with ME. My life since then has radically changed, and although I myself no longer play, I remain devoted to passing on my experiences to others who can, and this is the motivation of my writing. I take on only selective teaching, for obvious reasons, but shall be giving workshops for string teachers this Autumn in The Netherlands, and in England in 2003. I am determined to pass on this passion for improvising in lessons and make it approachable for others, too. It doesn't take much to get someone started off, teaching others. Mostly, the obstacle is a kind of personal barrier: 'How can I do this in the lesson if I have never done it before?' By going through the chapters and pieces in Impro, either individually or in an environment of other teachers who are also improvising for the first time, the barriers are broken down.

So this is where I am on my path of improvising in education. There was never anything like this around when I was at the Royal Academy of Music in London, learning about violin repertoire in teaching. But had there been, I would have grabbed it with both hands. If I can convince just a few teachers of the merits and benefits of combining this sort of freedom with conventional teaching then I will be very content!
News & Views, October 2003