Every musical piece we play with pupils is essentially a chamber piece, even if we are playing a solo piece. The reason is that we always think of silence as the next musician. In a somewhat more poetic simile, then as beauty is the happier sister of ugliness, then silence is the mother of music: it loves it, protects it, and defends it, in whatever form it takes. Where there is no silence, music is abandoned - it is like an orphan at the mercy of noise, who is an uninvited visitor to music and puts its foot in the door to sell its trinkets.
From the point of view of metro-rhythmic relations, everything important with the tone takes place in time, which begins with the start of the tone and ends with the beginning of the next tone (depending on its rhythmic value). Silence either humbles or dominates based on articulation. In the course of the tone, depending on the nature of the accent, the dynamics or frequency of the vibrato, etc., the role of silence is similar: each tone is essentially composed of the sound itself and its frequency, and the silence that surrounds it.
It helps a lot (and it is always a strong impulse for the pupils) when I bring their attention to silence and draw them into the music they are playing. As soon as they can perceive at least a little silence, they are able to achieve that they will start to participate - together with silence - in the creation of the atmosphere with their recorder playing. It is then easier to search for the mood we want to achieve, and an almost immeasurable space for working with metaphor opens up.
From the point of view of movement, silence means stopping – it is the absence of movement. Stopping or stillness, if you will, is another remarkable thing that we can bring into the lives of pupils. I'm not saying that it's easy for children to understand and perceive it, and I'm not saying that everyone is capable of it either: the differences are big. Some are capable of perceiving the atmosphere excellently, and they realize how it changes when they - for example, when playing chamber music - slow down. The feeling can be similar to when you walk into a side street from a busy square. Other pupils, on the other hand, have a problem noticing it, which is mostly related to how willing they are to process the playing technique and thus not/free themselves from laboriously reading notes and feeling fingerings. In any case, however, the element of silence and stopping movement brings new impulses into teaching, which can catch the interest of even the least abled pupils.
The overall movement of the body while playing a piece is an individual matter. I most often encounter the fact that pupils do not know how to move, and it seems inappropriate (or unnatural) for them to move in any kind of way. They stick to simple rocking, which has a stereotypical effect and, moreover, unnecessarily underlines the metrorhythm of the composition. Nevertheless, swinging is a good starting point for children to be able to develop and adapt movement to music, because it is easier to overcome the shyness of movement when they are already doing some movement than when they stand still. While swinging is only related to vertical movement or sideways movement, forward and backward movements are also involved in the overall movement of the body when playing music. The hands are involved to a greater extent, the head can move slightly, etc. It is useful to show pupils YouTube videos of how different players play the same piece, what the movement might look like, and give them options. Everyone is comfortable with something different, but everyone is comfortable if I leave them enough space to search for what suits them best and only correct any inappropriateness or illogicality. In addition, we come across a lot of moments for fun and opportunities to use metaphors in the lesson, which shed light into the pupils’ yet unexplored corners.
Sometimes it also happens that some "educated" parents or grandparents talk to the pupils about movement or explicitly criticize them for it. But this is also an opportunity for me to explain to them how differently those who do not play the recorder can perceive music and the expression associated with it. We become allies and together we try to convince listeners of the truth of our music. It is important to know that the overall movement of the body while playing is on our side! And this also applies if we are just starting to learn the movement with the piece and the pupil has not completely mastered it. The reason is that we perceive a significant part of information (about 80%) with our eyes, therefore the movement at the moment when the music is being played, is very convincing even for those who cannot hear the nuances connected with the way of playing the recorder or perceive the convincingness of the musical expression. In short, those who play, and move, are better off than those who play and just stand still - even if they play better, laypeople will always appreciate what they see more.
The movement of the whole body while playing must of course be subordinated to the character of the composition. At the same time, it is not always possible to involve movement to the extent that it should, because each type of composition imposes different technical demands and the pupils' possibilities for fulfilling them are also different. A pupil who struggles with technique and is generally not very good with motor skills will naturally have a tendency towards static expressionin order to concentrate better. However, the same situation can also apply to a pupil with good motor skills in allegro, which makes high technical demands. In my class, I try to get pupils with less motor skills to move more vigorously with the help of several pieces of the same type, and I try to encourage the ones who play a difficult passage to play it in a concentrated manner and with a degree of overall movement that suits them.
Baroque sonatas or, more generally, cyclical compositions with a diverse character of individual parts provide a number of possibilities in how to work with the overall movement while playing. Pupils are able to play the entire three- or four-movement sonata in the 6th/7th year, which is the period when they are already familiar with the overall movement and can thus try to find their own language. With every next piece that the pupils play, we go back to the beginning together and pay attention to how the movement is different (or the same or similar), and how the pupils progressed. We recall their first attempts and the feelings associated with them, and we realize how long of a journey they managed to surpass.
However, silence and calmness are also one of the reasons why it is difficult for my pupils to play renaissance polyphony in chamber music. Especially for primary school aged children, polyphonic compositions of a calm character are practically unplayable. Perhaps the reason is that the poetics of renaissance polyphony is unfamiliar to children, and in a way the long melodic lines bore them. However, again, it is individual and there are pupils who are very receptive to this music and like to play it. In the ensemble, interesting situations occur when some pupils want to play the piece and others reject it, which leads to discussions that are enriching for everyone present. By choosing the repertoire together, we participate not only on shaping the movement while playing, but also on shaping the personalities of the pupils, because the necessity to accept the aesthetics of their friends makes them (perhaps) more accommodating and generous people.
The decision of when to bring overall movement into the classroom depends on the maturity of the pupil. We usually start with it at a moment when the instrument already sounds relatively cultivated and when we are able to play music that has a deeper emotional charge. Suitable materials are the slow movements of baroque sonatas or, more generally, music that tells a story and is not burdened with a lot of technique. It is certainly not impossible to incorporate movement in renaissance dances (although I think renaissance songs are more suitable) or, for example, in a Bach minuet - everyone can choose what suits them. However, in my experience it is better if the music is calm, and the pupils have more maneuvering space to be able to pay attention to their body and its movements.
Moving while playing usually has to have a serious enough reason to help pupils overcome shyness and the feeling of awkwardness. If we start with teaching movement in about the fifth grade, then we need to realize that puberty is knocking on the door and the word "embarrassing" takes on new meanings for the pupil. Even though they have more or less moved while playing the recorder, now they have to step into the unknown for the sake of their development, which they usually don’t want to do. So, it's extremely important to explain the reasons to them in their own language, draw them into the music that they are playing, and most importantly, make them aware of how good they look when they're moving while playing their favourite piece and how good it looks, as opposed to when they're standing still.
I found it very useful to set a boundary for the pupils: I mark a semicircle on the floor around them with a piece of string, which separates them from the sheet music stand. The string twists and turns in various ways, and the border it symbolizes is therefore irregular, as if "unsharp". Then I let the pupils play their composition (preferably several times), and they are requested to pay attention only to the string. This is the moment when they accept the fact of the existence of the border. Then I invite them to step over the string with any foot at any time while playing the piece, or at least step on it. The pupil can decide in which part of the composition to do so, they can think it over, try it out and thus prepare for the movement. When they do this, they discover that nothing happens. They realize that even if they are not yet internally in tune with the movement, when they do it, nothing really happens to threaten them.
Nowadays, people keep talking about stepping out of the comfort zone. This exercise is literally that step. I think there is nothing wrong with a comfort zone - it is like a home where we feel safe. However, what is important is not the step itself with all its initial clumsiness, but the feeling of freedom that lies behind the string/border. It often takes many months for children to find their own language, which their body speaks while playing, and many have to be convinced repeatedly. In the end, the reward for everyone is not only a nice visual expression from the children's performances, but also the feeling of relaxation that most of them experience together with the overall movement, which they appreciate most at concerts, where it also helps them cope with the possible weight of the moment. If pupils learn to perceive their movement or the movement of their friends in the ensemble, then they are more sensitive to everyone else and their musical expression - they passionately discuss it, notice what they like, etc. And quite possibly, the older and more advanced ones may begin to notice body language more, which can prepare them well for their adult lives.
