From a New Studio to a Full Studio: Three years on

It’s now year three after I set up a brand-new Suzuki
guitar studio in a new city without contacts or a
support network for student referrals. Here’s what
I’m noticing: the kids who started six to twelve months ago
are catching up to the kids who started two years ago. In
addition, the “batches” phenomenon—where kids all move
along together and progress
together—is happening more
and more rather than feeling
like they are all progressing
individually. In other words,
there is a momentum starting
and it feels good, and I started
wondering why. It’s not that I
suddenly got easier kids—that
is in no way true. There are still
the kids who hate doing review,
the parents who hardly ever
come to group class, the kids who freak out every time
they make a mistake, the kids who have genuine difficulty
organizing their fingering, and the parents who keep
forgetting the practice tasks. So if it isn’t because I suddenly
got a good batch of kids with more dedicated parents, then
the question of “where does this momentum come from?”
seems like a good question to ask—and one that might be
helpful for others who are starting out.

The first logical question might be, did I suddenly be-
come a better teacher? I’ve been teaching for a long

time—Suzuki more than 10 years, and before that for
another 10 or so. It’s not a sudden increase in my ability
to teach, and it’s not a difference in training. I did move
countries, so there is some acclimation involved in working

out how to communicate ideas to a new culture (what cre-
ates defensiveness and how to avoid it—the most important

question in communicating with parents!) and that would
definitely be a factor, but not so much to explain all of the
changes I am observing.
The new studio I started was not just in a new place, but
also in a place where no one
really knew (and to a large
extent, knows) what on earth
classical guitar is, or Suzuki

guitar. Neither have a particu-
larly glamorous name here,

and sometimes “Suzuki” was
even met with outright hostility
from other teachers—which I
know couldn’t have come from
an interaction with me, I was
new! But it was a factor, and
something I had to come up with a strategy to address.
I observed a number of other studios in different places
in the city that were not thriving, and asked some basic
questions: do you hold recitals? Do you teach group
classes? Do you provide other opportunities to perform?
The answers were mostly no, and never yes to all three.
I was determined to embrace these things, and from my
experiences the comparative success of my studio would
seem to rest on including them right from the start: group
class, recitals, and group performances. You do, of course,
also have to provide a nurturing teaching environment
and take care of your families by having clear policies,
instrument recommendations and parent support—but if
you take as a given that most of us want to do the right thing

by our students and student families,
then I do believe it comes down to
a studio culture that includes and
prioritizes peer and social activities.
Firstly, because my new city is a

place really driven by a strong alter-
native music scene of electric guitars

and lots of dads who noodle around
on rock guitar, I really needed to focus
on recruitment on kids who were
four or five—who were interested in
guitar but before the rock culture
could really take hold. For a variety
of reasons, I was very successful in
recruiting four-year-olds. I also got a
few older and younger kids on board.
The challenge of materials for a
whole bunch of four-year-olds when
you are determined to have recitals
and group classes (at one point I
had 20 kids who were under five
years old) I met by writing my own
series of Pre-Twinkle songs with
accompaniments that step through
the five Twinkle variation rhythms
and gradually add on notes. In my
program, Twinkle, Twinkle, Little
Star is the reward song for mastering
the other Twinkle variations.
Group Classes
I started up group classes as soon as
I could, long before it paid for the time
I gave it, because I wanted everyone to
see how important it was and that it
was a top priority. I often found that
attendance was very patchy, and the
importance of group was not easy
to convey immediately. I sent out
articles, shared blog posts, and shared
my own experiences, but I have found
these things don’t matter so much
in a new studio because there is no
actual living proof—no young band of
guitarists who can show how to play
well together—yet.
So within a year, I designed a studio

policy that everyone now signs ac-
knowledg ing that g roup class is

mandator y. It is still a ver y new
concept to most people, so for their
first term group classes are free.

They can attend and see what it is all

about—it is rare that someone can-
not see the value of group classes,

and I try to make explicit the skills
that I am addressing. I use group
as a forum for spending time on all
the things that sometimes don’t get
prioritized in individual lessons,
such as reading rhythms, steady beat,
tempo, conducting, note reading
preparation, etc. I lost a few students
in the transition to mandatory group
classes, and every now and then I still
grant exceptions—but in the main I
cannot emphasize enough how much
easier it is to have it written down and
to prepare everyone.
Out of the three things I rate as

essential for a thriving Suzuki stu-
dio—Group, Recitals, and Group

Performances—group class is the most
essential. It is out of these that the

others can grow. Recitals are only pos-
sible if the young ones have practice

playing in front of their peers, and
group performances only work if the
kids know how to play together—and
that only happens through group
classes.
Recitals
When you are getting started the
way I started—with a majority of really
young kids—and you struggle to find
community support collaborating
with other teachers—as I did—then
recitals are short and sweet. Even
more short if your Pre-Twinklers
have nothing to play. So the series of
Pre-Twinkle songs I had composed
took on a larger importance as they
became recital pieces, and along with
that became a secondary repertoire
that the Pre-Twinklers knew as a way
of judging their progression towards
their Twinkle graduation.

Graduations

Graduations are a subset of recit-
als—they are a solo performance but

with even more significance. Book
One is a marathon—and it should be,
the skills you build in Book One are
the most important skills that you
build. Because of that, I do Twinkle

graduations which require the stu-
dent to play all six Twinkles in a row,

in book order. That way there is a
graduation that is achievable within
a relatively short period of time.
And I make a fuss! I make an equal
fuss over subsequent book recitals
at which they play the entire book in
order. I have a variety of tools I keep
changing and refining for rewards,
but importantly, I also have a public
tally—I attach pictures to a poster for
progressing through the books and
I have a “Twinkle” book I keep with
pictures for Twinkle graduations.
Group Performances
Group performances are a special
category as far as I’m concerned

because of the unparalleled oppor-
tunity to check in on review—hand

out a list of songs to play, and expect
everyone to do their due diligence
and make sure they can play them.
I know many teachers use group
class in this way, but for me group

class is an opportunity to develop
flexibility, musicianship, theory, and
audiation—which means play ing
with the repertoire and reframing/
reconstructing/reimagining it—so I
need a separate category for group
performances. They fall into two main
categories: play downs (or play ins) and
community performances. I program
in advance a community performance
or a play down every term.
Play downs I define as being within
the Suzuki community only—for the
studio, for events sharing with other
Suzuki studios, and for Festivals or

Workshops. Community perfor-
mances are when I take a group of

students out into a public commu-
nity location—prearranged, with the

permission of the company, park, or
association—and we do a play down
in public.
The first community performance
we did was comprised of five songs

from Book One and five of my Pre-
Twinkle songs. The last performance

didn’t have any Pre-Twinkle songs

because I now have so many stu-
dents progressing through the books

that community performances are
reserved for students who can play
their Twinkle bread. Yes, things have
changed, which is great, but thinking

back I was able to do community per-
formances very soon after starting up,

and it really did help build a culture
of review.
Next Steps
Things are cyclical, and I’m sure in
a few more years I’ll have another set
of insights that are rather different. I
may even change my mind on some
of the things I have outlined in this
article! I’ll be trying out different
tactics for rewards, different ways
of inspiring review, different types
of community performances and
including ensembles, and looking

to colleagues for fresh ideas. Noth-
ing stays the same, but all of those

changes will be built off of the idea

that the core things I need to inspire
kids to want to progress through
the books (group class, recitals and
group performances) are social and
peer based.
Now that there is a demand for
what I do, I can consider how I want
to present parent education. I did
not believe, when I started and was
introducing a whole new idea to my
reg ion—that demanding parents
attend an education program before
starting lessons would work. I think it
works once your program is popular
and proven, so I have to decide what

to do about a more organized ap-
proach. Parent education up to now

has been based more on providing
opportunities for parents to meet
and talk, guided parent education
talks I call “sharing sessions,” and
ongoing articles.

To return to the thought that start-
ed this whole article: I noticed a

change in momentum and a greater
ease for the kids in moving through
the repertoire. Thinking about why
this might be the case was a great
reminder for me of how hard it is
to be out in front on your own—and
that challenge manifests not only in
instrumental lessons but in all the
things that we do. It is easier to be
in the crowd and have had the trail

blazed before you, because expecta-
tions are set up. And, of course, how

hard it is to be without a community,
something that is so much a part of

the current discussion about mod-
ern life and the difficulties facing

young people. Thank you Suzuki
community, not only for helping me

understand that I am part of some-
thing larger even when I feel alone

in a particular geographical location,
but also helping me to understand
how to build that for myself from the ground up.

Meredith Connie is a
Suzuki guitar teacher,
composer and performer
that has worked in the US
and in Australia. In 2020
she completed her training
to become an Alexander Technique teacher and
is now actively researching healthy practices and
posture for the youngest musical beginners. She
has taught at a number of colleges and universities
including Montana State University, College of
Great Falls and Pierce College, Washington State.
She has released three recordings including her
latest solo guitar recording, Fairy Tales, Monsters
and Wild Animals featuring her own compositions and fantasy-themed works.