Flute, Accordion or Clarinet?. Jo Tomlinson

      James, a 13-year-old boy with autism, was referred to me because of his hyperactive tendencies, and he attended 17 sessions of music therapy. What first struck me about James was how young he looked for his age, and how he spoke and sang in a childlike voice. As we began, James’s love for music swiftly drew him into interaction with me, and he would be quick to respond. Before the sessions he would enter the room already singing our greeting song. However, his eagerness to play and sing caused him to rapidly become over-stimulated and overwhelmed, especially during familiar songs. Our interactions would quickly break down and fragment. His singing would become jumbled and slurred; he would become erratic, shout and squeal, play instruments deafeningly loudly and exhibit fixated movements. These expressions, along with his childlike voice, gave me a window into his feelings – muddled, ‘unable’ and lacking control. In fact, in the beginning phase of therapy James could only play at one volume and in one style: extremely loudly and chaotically.

      Singing, especially of familiar songs, seemed to be what James enjoyed the most, probably owing to the safety it provided through structural form; yet it made him the most overwhelmed. As he became over-stimulated, I would stop using my voice and pick up the flute, responding with uncomplicated and grounding music until he calmed down. I also found that when we sang and played without lyrics, or played improvised melodies, he was able to express himself more freely. Sometimes I would hum the melody lines, which he would respond well to, but as the sessions went on, I found the flute much more effective at keeping him calm yet also interactive and expressive.

      As I reviewed my video footage from the sessions, I noticed that when I played the flute James would frequently be looking out of the window in between playing. Outside there were big leafy trees, softly swaying around in the breeze. I noticed the connection between the gentle and calming nature of the flute and the way the trees moved. It seemed James had made a connection between what he could see and what he could hear, and in connecting these stimuli he was led to express himself in a more controlled manner. In these interactions James would usually choose to play the glockenspiel, a delicate instrument, mirroring the characteristics of my own music, and of the trees, and he would play it gently and sensitively. I felt that I was acting as the mouthpiece for our soothing sounds and landscape. Our interactions would usually sound conversational as we took turns to answer one another in our playing, and our motifs would be slow and reflective. By playing the flute we could bypass James’s anxiety of using his voice, but retain a distinct melodic line. It acted as a voice, detached from ours, but allowed a form of expression still generated by breath, yet controlled and relaxed. I was modelling an alternative, soothing ‘voice’, which was mirrored by his own ‘voice’ on the glockenspiel. As these interactions kept occurring I slowly integrated my contribution, alternating between singing and flute. I would sing or hum in a similar pitch and gentle tone, mimicking the flute. My use of voice was not enough to overwhelm James, and so he would respond as if I was playing rather than singing. Gradually James started to use his voice too, sometimes in a shouty manner, but without escalating out of control as it once would have done. He went on to explore and develop a quieter voice over time.

      In our penultimate sessions, James would still enter singing our greeting song, but with one significant difference; he sang in a softer tone and with more coherence. As I watched the video back and observed us singing ‘Hello’ together for the last time, I realised how much control James had gained over his vocalisations and other expressions. In our ‘Hello’ song James now sang a verse on his own as I accompanied him on the guitar, which had become the normal way for us to start. I realised that a reversal of roles had occurred. I didn’t always need to be James’s voice for him; he could now sing in a moderate and controlled manner, echoing the voice of the flute and glockenspiel, and mirroring the landscape he saw outside.

      Vittorio and the magic flute

      Caroline Anderson

      I began learning the flute in primary school and played in various ensembles, and then went on to take a music degree with major performance on flute. After completing my degree I worked as a peripatetic woodwind teacher and conductor for several years, continuing with lessons and ensemble playing in my own time. We were encouraged to use our first-study instruments in classes and on placements on the music therapy training course. In fact, one of our first assignments was to write a letter to our first instrument, and this task reminded me of how familiar I am with this instrument, the hours I have spent practising, all the exams, concerts and recitals I have poured my energy and emotions into. As I have greater proficiency on the flute than on other instruments, I feel I can respond more effectively and have a wider musical range at my fingertips, while requiring less effort, so focusing more of my concentration on the client.