Will child abuse allegations put Britain’s music schools at risk?
Reports of predatory behaviour at leading institutions have called into question the future of one-to-one tuition,
The abuse suffered by performers in the musical and operatic worlds has been blazoned across the media in recent months, thanks to the #Metoo campaign.
Less well-known is the horrific abuse suffered by musically gifted children at the hands of their specialist teachers. Now at long last this is emerging into the daylight. Earlier this year the American media reported on the case of Lara St John, a violinist who was one of dozens abused by sexually predatory specialist teachers at the Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia.
In this country the Independent Inquiry into Child Sexual Abuse, a long-running investigation into abuse at institutions of all kinds, due to report next year, is currently investigating music schools. Testimony from past pupils and staff from four such institutions were heard last month: Chetham’s School in Manchester, the Purcell School in Hertfordshire, Wells Cathedral School, and the Yehudi Menuhin School in Surrey.
These testimonies are both harrowing and appalling. Pupils have alleged they were groped and forcibly kissed in practice rooms, and sometimes invited back to teachers’ houses, where they had to endure even worse things. More common was a persistent sexualised approach to teaching, with compliments on pupils’ alluring dress sense leading to heated exhortations to be “more emotional” in their playing, accompanied by lots of unnecessary touching. In other cases, students were subjected to relentless bullying, told that they were useless or would never amount to anything.
The human cost of these abuses has been incalculable. One victim of Michael Brewer, a long-time violin teacher at Chetham’s, committed suicide. Others have told the inquiry about emotional trauma, nightmares, and an inability to form sexual relationships. Some have turned their backs on music altogether.
Many will say the root cause of this outrage is the model of oneto-one teaching that underlies the educational and training model at specialist schools and conservatoires, and is still relied on by thousands of parents who are willing to pay for private instrumental and singing lessons. It’s a model that certainly has its critics, and in the wake of these latest awful revelations they are becoming more vocal. They say it vests far too much power in the teacher, who assumes a godlike authority over their pupils’ lives.
In the testimony to the inquiry we learn how pupils at specialist schools often don’t dare to contradict their teachers in even the smallest thing, as they have the power to withhold vital bursaries, which for pupils from poorer backgrounds can amount to almost 100 per cent of the fees.
Pupils also feel – rightly or wrongly – that their teachers can unlock doors into higher education, or the profession. It’s all too easy for unscrupulous teachers to take advantage of the situation, by gratifying their egos with some casual sadism, or demanding sexual favours.
And in any case, hasn’t the method outlived its usefulness? Isn’t it more healthy in our pluralistic and liberal world for a student to be exposed to a variety of teaching methods and interpretative standpoints, rather than submitting to the narrow
Pupils often don’t dare to contradict their teachers in even the smallest thing, for fear of losing vital bursaries
viewpoint of a single all-powerful “guru”?
It’s true that the method is wide open to abuse, and it would hardly be surprising if, once the findings of the report are disclosed, there are calls to close these institutions down. In my view that would be a tragic mistake, which would deprive future generations of students of wonderful opportunities. We need to remember the master-pupil relationship has been a bedrock of artistic education for millennia. In the Hindustani classical tradition – one of the world’s greatest, on a par with our own – the relationship between the guru (or “pandit”, as a guru is known in the Hindu-speaking world) and the student is so intense that it can generate an entire style, which can persist across many generations.
In Western culture the relationship is hardly less intense. Think of the great teachers of composition in the 20th century, such as Arnold Schoenberg. His students carried a very particular aesthetic and way of working across the entire globe – as did the students of Nadia Boulanger, in their very different way. All their efforts were targeted towards releasing the individuality of the student, by giving them two things – a rock-solid technique, and independence of mind.
Not every music teacher has the genius and upright ethical stance of a Schoenberg or Boulanger. But neither are they all potential abusers, to be looked on with suspicion. When I look back to my own teachers, I remember them as wise and encouraging, perhaps more focused on discipline than we would accept nowadays, but humane none the less.
I’m sure most adults who studied music as children would say the same. What’s needed now is not to shut the system down in a moment of revulsion, but to preserve the good aspects of the one-to-one method while guarding against its potential downsides.
There should be a less deferential and more open culture, so pupils are exposed to more than one point of view, and much stricter safeguards. The master-pupil relationship can be a wonderful thing, as long as it does not degenerate into a barren, ugly exercise of power – which in the end is what abuse is all about.