I recently had the chance to work as a music examiner in South Africa. I was intending to resign from the exam board in question, but had decided that one last overseas tour would be a good point at which to leave. Furthermore, I had enjoyed previous visits to South Africa, and yes, I was also keen to see a whale!
While having lunch on one of the exam days at a secondary school, I met a pianist who told me of a Suzuki-based string project I might like to visit. So, one Saturday I went with the local exam rep to see this project, called Muzukidz, which was meeting in a school for a morning session. It turned out to be a joyous event and a hugely enjoyable visit for me personally.
From Cape Town to Gqeberha
Muzukidz, a registered public benefit organisation, was launched in Cape Town in 2015 by its principal teacher and director, Maria Botha. The project started with the aim of offering free tuition and the gift of music to children living in underserved townships where poverty and crime prevail. As part of its rigorous training, Muzukidz develops the social skills, confidence and emotional expression which foster discipline, respect and social inclusion.
In 2019, Muzukidz opened a branch in Gqeberha (formerly Port Elizabeth). The Gqeberha branch is run by Robyn Lovemore, a South African musician and well-trained educator. Robyn runs the project aimed at township youngsters in a similar way to how projects in Soweto began. She's assisted by Asive Ngcebetsha, a young woman who benefited from a scholarship to a secondary school. Asive is clearly well-schooled in the technical aspects of string teaching, and, while not pursuing a career as a violinist or string teacher, she comes to help out at the project whenever she can.
Under the guidance of these tutors, the young players at the Saturday class demonstrated great enthusiasm and energy, which was uplifting to see. They played from memory, sometimes in three- or four-part harmony, and performed with choreography in some of the African pieces. All of this was supported by a relaxed posture and freedom of movement in the players.
This Saturday session was a rehearsal for the year-end concert at the Nelson Mandela University. Teaching time during Monday to Friday is limited, sometimes comprising just 20 minutes a week. Additional lesson on Saturdays are therefore essential.
The importance of a good sound
As a long-serving examiner and adjudicator, I have probably seen more poor technique than good in the UK. Occasionally, I go to a centre or festival featuring beginners for whom the sky is the limit, due to their having a secure foundation and confidence. Many years ago I was fortunate to have accessed the residential training offered by Sheila Nelson, and felt able then to start my own project, based in Sheffield, for very young violinists. With cello teacher Rachel Moore, I was able to develop players in groups and then individually, memorably taking two coachloads of excited young children to London to play in Music for Youth gala concerts.
Whatever method is used, the essential point is to train the muscles – using lots of games and disguising the repetition – so that a good tone is achieved from the very start. I lost count of how many parents enrolled their child for lessons while admitting that they were ‘dreading the scratchy practice noise’. I usually responded by saying that if that was the case, they could blame me. I never understood how a teacher could tolerate more than five minutes of the sounds I sometimes endured as an examiner or adjudicator, particularly if the teacher in question was themself a good player.
The point is, this Muzukidz class made an attractive sound and had refreshingly good intonation. The endless correction of hands, elbows, shoulders and bow-holds, by Robyn or her assistant Asive, helped the group as they played. Vibrato was introduced early on, to connect with the movement, as were shifts and ensemble playing. But the joy of making music was tangible, just as it is on the Muzukidz website. There was an intense focus when playing and a real respect for their teacher, and this contrasted with the noisy chatter and energy during break times. Once it became clear that I was from the UK, I was asked, ‘Do you know Harry Kane?’ When they heard that I didn't, I was of no interest whatsoever. But as I sat there, I wondered what standard might be reached if the students had longer tuition time and better facilities.
When printed music is so expensive for such programmes, it makes sense that pupils learn by ear. But Muzukidz students also learn to read music. This requires careful balancing given the costs, admin and additional time involved, but all recognise the value of musical literacy and producing rounded musicians.
Schools in South Africa
During the exam tour, I met another fine violin teacher, Susan Kunju, who went through a township music scheme and graduated from university, and who now produces excellent results with her students. She's living proof that South Africa can develop, recruit and retain those who benefit from such projects and then wish to serve their community.
I was trying to understand the various types of school I was visiting. One school I visited, called a ‘government school’, clearly produced good young instrumentalists. It was a fee-paying school but was affordable to families of modest means – for example, for parents working as hotel bar or restaurant staff. I had mistaken this type for the likes of UK prep schools, which cater mostly for the children of wealthy families. The list of sports facilities at the school could probably be set to the melody of ‘Twelve Days of Christmas’ – there were six tennis courts, four netball courts, two rugby fields, two cricket fields, two astro turf pitches and a 25m swimming pool – and there was a huge school hall and dedicated art classrooms. Can I imagine state-supported primary schools in the UK having these resources? No, I can't. The aspiration and confidence I witnessed from my one day at the school impressed me. Choirs, orchestras and various ensembles were all rehearsing, working towards public concerts.
Similarly, a secondary school I spent several days at had especially impressive brass playing, with lists of Grade 8 candidates coming through the examination room door. Some were towering above me, and I felt that the school's entire rugby team had shown up. Sport and music at the school create discipline and teamwork by the bucketload, with high expectations from staff and a common-sense attitude of ‘That's life’ to losing a match or not getting Distinction in an exam. There wasn't a mobile phone in sight at any time during the school day, on account that if it was spotted, it was confiscated for 10 weeks.
Some pupils at the school have a hellish home life or background that is hard to imagine – unable, some days, to attend because of incidents involving guns or machetes. Many are on full scholarships, plucked from a struggling school in an impoverished area and offered a new opportunity. Whatever their background, the teenagers I saw and met displayed great maturity and confidence, from how they came in for an exam, engaged in conversation, some with laughter, to the respect they showed adults. They see a way of social interaction that might not be prevalent at home or in their neighbourhood, and this guides them to achieving friendships across many ethnic and social divides. Thanks to such schools, they succeed in a number of subjects and can embrace a range of career paths.
Final thought
Some years ago I sent some small violins and a load of sheet music from friends and colleagues to a project in Soweto. If l could, I would do the same for Muzukidz. As with many such projects, the continuation of its work relies on the financial support of donors and individuals. If music is to flourish against the odds, it deserves our collective support.
