Recently, a colleague and I had a discussion about the
euphoria we sometimes experience when musicking (the social interaction of
engaging in music). Joyce teaches
music at the secondary level and has been involved in choral ensembles for
years. In fact, she was soon to
participate in an upcoming choral event in her hometown in the Midwest later in
the month and was bubbling with excitement, anticipating the “high” of pure joy
she would experience.
I described that “high” as part of my Ph.D. dissertation,
using other researchers’ terminology:
“interactional synchrony” and “group flow” (Sawyer); “grooving” or
“playing good time with somebody” (Monson). These are terms to describe the emotional response and state
of consciousness present when a group of artists is performing at its peak;
when each member can anticipate what other performers will do before they do
it; when everything flows effortlessly.
In the years since my dissertation, I have gradually shifted
my thinking and have reconsidered what Sawyer, Monson, and others have
described. I now see their
descriptions and analyses of the phenomenon as superficial and external to the
experience itself. In the Tao Te
Ching there is the saying, “He who
knows does not speak; he who speaks does not know.” My interpretation is that an individual can intimately
experience the phenomenon which is a deep knowing; however, the experience
itself is so ineffable that once you try to explain or describe in words, it
loses meaning and cheapens the experience. Therefore, I
think researchers (or anyone) can only point to the experience peripherally or
metaphorically but cannot truly say what it is.
In my musing, I was reminded of a comment made by a member
of my dissertation committee during my oral defense – a comment that now comes
to bear on my thinking. At the
tome’s conclusion I wrote:
“I think this study shows that engaging
in the arts is about learning to be wide-awake, to imagine possibilities, and
to break through the cotton wool of daily life. Engagement with the arts is about trying on new identities
and exerting a sense of agency, and learning how to create through
collaboration and negotiation with others. It is about being human. In effect, it is the ultimate experience”(p. 330).
One of the committee professors pronounced that he disagreed
with the last sentence. In his
estimation I’d gotten it wrong – the ultimate experience according to him was mysticism. At the
time I was baffled and speechless – it was certainly not a comment I had anticipated,
which only furthered my nervousness – until the other committee members
chuckled and brushed his comment aside.
Though the comment was received as a joke by the other
professors in the room, it held my curiosity and intrigue. Mysticism is a personal experience of
or union with a supreme being, i.e., a joining of individual spirit with
universal spirit. Through the
evolution of my own spiritual quest since that time, I have begun to reframe my
understanding of the arts experience and that phenomenon of euphoria we often
encounter when musicking. In other
words, I am seriously considering the idea of mysticism that the professor
threw out during my oral defense.
Csikszentmihalyi
describes his concept of “flow” as a state of heightened consciousness
that occurs in individuals during peak experiences. Sawyer’s concept of “group flow” involves the entire
group as a collective unit rather than within an individual performer. In both cases, I am beginning to think
that during those moments of “flow” there is not just a heightened
consciousness but also a shift in
consciousness. That is to say, I
am suggesting that during those instances of musicking when we are completely
in tune with the music and each other, the ego (i.e., I, me, mine) is pushed aside
and spirit is allowed through.
During those moments, time seems to stand still and there is no separation, only
complete union; the divine in each of us is connecting not only to Source
(universal spirit, God, Creator, Great Mystery, Divine Feminine, etc.) but also
to the divine in others through interconnectedness and compassion. In those moments, we experience deep
knowing which is too ineffable for words.
In this way, all the performing and studio arts have the potential of
being a spiritual and even a mystical experience. Additionally, the phenomenon is not all that elusive – my
students on the elementary level have experienced it for themselves though they
cannot always articulate it. The
closest they have come are the following quotes by former students written in
their journals:
“It feels like I am flying when I
dance with my heart and soul.”
“When I’m singing it makes me feel
better in my heart. And the same
thing dancing.”
“I feel like I want to come out of
my shell and shine.”
Once again, an experience of deep knowing which can only be
described peripherally or metaphorically, as these young students demonstrate
in their writing.
So how does this “slippery slope” of spirituality fit into
arts education? And what effect
does discussing spirituality in the context of education have on my credibility
as an educator or as an educational researcher? It is a risk, but one I think important to take. I am not referring to religion or
faith, which are institutional, dogmatic, and creedal and have no business in
public education. And I am
certainly not advocating the teaching of divinity in schools. We talk a lot
about educating the “whole child” but in reality we focus exclusively on the
development of the mind (and in the current climate of reform, I argue it is
not even the whole mind). However,
the word “education” derives from the Latin educere, meaning to draw out that which is within, to bring
to light what is hidden.
Conversely, the word “instruction” means to infuse, to put something in
that is lacking, i.e., imparting of knowledge and information. Therefore, educate is from within,
instruct is from without.
In arts education, instruction of skill development and conceptual understanding are important and
crucial (as in any discipline). However,
we must not miss the forest for the trees. That is, we must continually ask ourselves what is the
ultimate purpose of the arts in education? Why are we teaching
those skills and concepts presented in the curriculum? Is the goal simply one of proficiency? Or is it one of drawing out the inner
spirit and wisdom? Personally, I
think the purpose of the arts in education is for enabling individuals to
connect on a deeply human and spiritual level, to experience a deep knowing
which words cannot describe. And
that is where I think spirituality fits in arts education – at the center.
Who knows?
Maybe the professor on my dissertation committee knew more than the rest
of us imagined.
Csikszentmihalyi, M. (1990). Flow: The psychology of optimal experience. New
York: HarperCollins Publishers.
Monson, I. (1996). Saying something: Jazz improvisation
and interaction. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Sawyer, R.K. (2003).
Group creativity: Music, theater, collaboration. New
Jersey: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
No comments:
Post a Comment