Banjo Music Reading Part 1

You’ve all seen the Facebook meme: Mom and daughter are sitting on the piano bench, and mom is pointing at the piano, cheerfully saying, “this is sheet music. You use it to scare away banjo players!” I would laugh (more) if it wasn’t so true; with few exceptions, I’ve come to realize that the worlds of “written music” and “banjo music” couldn’t be more foreign to each other—or at least it would seem that way. I would like to have a hand in changing that, especially since I myself am fairly new to the oxymoron, “reading banjo player.” You’ll please excuse my zeal in this matter; I don’t seem to have a “medium” setting—only cold or hot. And yes, I do take the banjo just a bit seriously; I mean only the best for the banjo and its enthusiasts.

Let me expand this rant, er. . .blog to cover all instruments and music education in general; I have a degree and experience in K-12 music education, so this is a subject close to my heart. I am also simply trying to apply my “classical” education to the banjo (why not? It’s a musical instrument too, isn’t it?).

Today’s want-it-now Pop culture has been brutal on music education. The non-musical general public—those who hold the educational purse-strings, and/or worse yet, run the schools—thinks that all you have to do is “put another nickel in,” and music comes out (from either a box or a human—little difference to them; “my, those Pop stars have so much musical talent! What fine examples for our children!”). Besides, aren’t sports more important for teaching them life’s lessons (“by golly, I was the quarterback, and I sure learned a lot about leadership!”)?

And music takes time away from more important academic subjects. We know better of course; scientific research has proven that music study accentuates intellectual functioning and the learning of all subjects. Alas, it’s hard to convince a non-musician/ex-team captain/school administrator of this, despite the research results; I guess they’re ignorant of both music and science! Allowing music to be dumbed down—and at the same time not giving kids the opportunity, inspiration, or education to excel in music—has affected the outlook for all instruments, not just the banjo.

Why learn to read music? Does it improve the art of banjo playing? Well, it certainly has the potential to, simply because there is a lot of great written music out there to learn—a satisfying process made possible only with the skill—and a ton of music theory that requires at least rudimentary music reading skills to comprehend. Beyond this, why limit yourself as a musician? Benefit comes to those who use the skill in a positive way. It cannot help but make one a better and more knowledgeable musician, and that is the main point. This well-rounded ideal is something all of us banjo players should be striving for—if we want the banjo to be taken more seriously.

I know: We all know (or may be one ourselves) plenty of “naturals” who play “just fine, thank you” without the skill, but even they would benefit from it if they were to learn. The naturals of that ability level are rare indeed! They are certainly the minority, and are not easily emulated by those less-gifted, and thus should not be held out as examples. Most folks need some kind of written assistance to function, or at least to get started. I have found of course that the very best musicians have both natural and learned skills.

Suggesting that it’s not necessary to learn to read (because so-and-so does fine without it) is nothing short of anti-intellectualism applied to music, and is in accord with those who would eliminate music education from our schools. If that advice was followed to a T, there would be roughly half as many musicians around today; many would give up when they discover they have no natural aptitude (and lack of awareness that they could learn and realize their dream by reading).

Those who require written music constitute the majority of personnel in our orchestras and Military bands (“section players”). Many perform at very high levels indeed (while earning a decent living at it), seemingly in spite of the fact that they apparently don’t have music naturally inside of them (as evidenced by their need for sheet music to play even simple songs). For them, hard work/study paid off—hard work that overcomes limitations; they would not have succeeded without it. We can all learn from their example.

The banjo (in all forms) has a popular reputation for being beneath learning (jokes come from somewhere, you know—“yes, I have heard that one; thank you so much though!”), and that pretty much condemns it to being so. No matter how hard we fight against it, perception = reality. Admit it: If you are reading this—and you are not a banjo player—odds are you think of us banjo players as backwoods hicks with no aptitude or need for written music. Am I right?

Ironically, you may even see this as an impediment to your own learning; “I just don’t have that kind of native skill in me. Them-thar country folk jes take natch-rally to the banjer (said with a fake twang)!” You may even laugh at the idea that there are serious, step-by-step method books available for learning the banjo, complete with serious music to play. If this is you, you are part of the problem—for those of us who are trying to change the popular perception, anyway.

But hey, it’s not your fault! You didn’t put that idea in your head; that maddening popular perception did. On top of that, if you have no particular interest in the banjo (which is fine. . .I guess. . .), I can’t expect you to spend any of your valuable time educating yourself on it, just as I shouldn’t be expected to spend any time studying engineering or medicine (which may come easily enough to you). Banjo = dumb; “okay, too easy. Next life-lesson please!” I myself refuse to accept this paradigm any longer. Banjo = intelligent? Yes, it can. . .and does!

If you are a banjo player, and you still use the popular narrative to your entertainment advantage, you are also helping to promote the perception; I humbly ask for your assistance in this battle for reputation. I used to joke—when a subject would prove too deep for me; “I’m just a banjo player after all. What do you expect?” I unwittingly bought into the hillbilly shtick (and resold it) hook line and sinker, and shamelessly used it to get a laugh from those who truly believe the perception to their core (“oh, that poor, pathetic banjo player; isn’t he precious?”). If this is still you, I ask that you take yourself—and especially the banjo—just a bit more seriously. Otherwise we will all continue to be the butt of the joke, and continue to not gain any traction in the contemporary, mainstream music world, and thus, continue to fade (and then wonder why that’s happening). Instrument’s fault? No! Perception’s fault? Yes!

So, I’m not just talking about music reading as a skill, but as an overall mindset/ mentality and indicator of musical intelligence—a legitimate source of pride and confidence for a self-proclaimed musician. For educated musicians (“those darn ivory-tower intellectuals!”), reading skills are the litmus test for whether a person is a true musician or not. “What do you mean you can’t read the banjo part to Rhapsody in Blue? What kind of musician are you?” [Has this happened to you? Been there, done that! I “faked” it as best I could; the experience has certainly inspired me to learn.] Natural, non-reading musicians of course see it differently; “what do you mean you can’t play Happy Birthday without the music? What kind of musician are you?” My definition of “true musician” is one who has both natural and learned skills in more-or-less equal measure.

Here’s an interesting marriage of natural and learned skills for you: I have known many highly-trained musicians who can look at an orchestral score and hear every part of the music—in real time! I’ve even known a couple who can sight-read that score— transpositions and all—on the piano (limited to “only” ten fingers/notes of course), then proceed to analyze and describe what they saw! No “natural-only” musician—no matter how phenomenal—could ever begin to do that.

I have trouble enough looking at a single-line melody in a fake book and hearing it. That is the first step though; start with songs you know well, striving to hear the music in real time and pitch by reading the notes (learning to hear intervals—and thus chords—is a process greatly assisted by learning to see them in written music). If you can also hear the chords that go with the melody (provided or not), so much the better. As you develop the skill, move on to more complex tunes. This exercises both equally-important sides of the musical brain.

It is truly astounding the level to which many musicians take the skill of music reading! Fortunately, we banjo players only have to worry about four notes, plus our music is a bit less complex than a Classical symphony! If we consider ourselves to be “musicians,” shouldn’t we strive to be musicians on that level of mastery—that example being so readily available to us? Doesn’t the banjo deserve that?

In Part 2, I will get off my soapbox (“about time!”) and present some more practical ideas on music reading.