My compositional mentor was Earl Kim, the great Korean-American composer best known for the sparse brilliance and intense lyricism of his pieces. In my mind, I always connect Earl to my other musical idol, the brilliant, sparse, and intensely lyrical jazz trumpeter Miles Davis. Somehow, and this may seem far-fetched, I now connect these artists of strong conviction and high standards to the nature of the Suzuki Method. As Suzuki puts so much emphasis on the production of beautiful tone, both Kim and Davis spent considerable energy discovering their “sound” or “voice.” As is commonly reported, Davis worked hard to achieve and continually refine his immediately recognizable trumpet sound; Kim allowed very little of the music he wrote before the age of 45 to be performed because he did not feel he had yet discovered his unique compositional voice. Both Davis and Kim had a penchant for reductionism, that is, limiting musical variables in order to better concentrate on a singularly expressive idea.
In the late 50s, Davis adopted a modal approach to jazz, where, instead of using themes with complex harmonic changes as the springboard for improvisation, he chose to use only one or two modal scales per composition as the basis for improvisation. This approach allowed the jazz soloist to focus more directly on fashioning fresh and persuasive melodies. During the 60s and 70s, Kim wrote music where all the musical materials, whether they were details or large structures, were generated from palindromes. This severely limited approach was the key to his capturing the imprisoned, static world of the Beckett texts he was setting.
Again you may find this a stretch, but I feel there is a strong analogy between this “reductionism” and the Suzuki approach. Dr. Suzuki’s concern for making sure one basic technique was mastered before moving on to the next, or his idea that there should be only one teaching point per lesson, strike me as coming from the same “minimalist” impulse that drove Kim and Davis. As a Suzuki parent who is not a direct practitioner of the Suzuki Method, I am constantly mystified by my deep attraction to the Suzuki Method. Maybe this metaphysical connection between my early musical heroes and Suzuki helps explain that attraction.
I believe this minimalist Davis-Kim-Suzuki stance has an even broader connection to the life of our Association. In our longstanding Global Ends Policy, we envision a world where Suzuki Method education is excellent and accessible. As I have said in previous columns, there is an inherent tension between excellence and accessibility—we all want to share the beauty of the Suzuki Method with as many people, and as soon, as possible. Nonetheless, we would not want to deliver that Method in something less than excellent fashion, so it has seemed necessary to concentrate primarily on insuring that excellence. The steps we have taken in that realm have been, at first glance, small and gradual—the institution of an application process for teacher training and teacher trainers, the development of a uniform introductory course in the Suzuki Method (ECC), etc. A certificate program for recognizing excellence is another small step presently in the planning stages.
Small steps, yes, but small steps can be powerful steps. When Dr. Suzuki took the simple step of including parents in the teaching process, a revolution in education was fomented. Similarly, the Association’s commitment to high standards and our modest programs to insure excellence have profoundly changed the image of the Suzuki Method both to those who choose to practice it and to those who solely observe. I know from a Board member’s perspective that it is sometimes difficult to be patient—we all want to fix everything that is not perfect immediately. We should, however, realize that small steps, powerfully conceived, are sometimes the necessary beginnings for realizing our long-term vision.
