Feminist Perspectives
Hadley, Susan (Ed.)(2006). Feminist Perspectives in Music
Therapy. Gilsum, NH: Barcelona Publishers.
Reviewed by Mercédès Pavlicevic
Susan Hadley has drawn together 22 women under the wide
and diffuse umbrella of ‘feminism’, who each write
‘something’
about music therapy and feminism, music therapy as feminists,
and feminist music therapy theory, practice, supervision
and ethics. Much of this book becomes a testament to
music therapy work with women, as women, written by
women.
Inevitably, all sorts of questions come to mind regarding
a ‘feminist music therapy’, some of which are addressed
in Susan Hadley’s 35-page long introduction entitled
‘embracing
feminism’. Here is a personal background leading to
a feminist stance in life, love and music therapy;
a historical
overview
of feminism’s ‘three waves’; an explanation as to why
male voices are (rather conspicuously) absent; an explanation
about the book’s conception and process of working
with the
authors and their own preconceptions (and in some cases
puzzlement) about the need for a book about feminist
music therapy. Hadley
is at pains to point out that a feminist position is
about more than examining gender inequalities within
the profession,
despite the gender-based inequalities in level of certification,
job status and (in the US at least) in salaries. Rather,
we are persuaded by Hadley and several others that
a feminist music therapy critique seeks to address
the
inequalities
inherent in the therapeutic relationship, which inequalities
(Kenny talks of ‘power differentials’) are part of
a broader social palette, already critiqued by sociologists,
linguists,
and political scientists. (Here, Edwards' and Rolvsjord’s
insistence on music therapy practice being political
rather than politically neutral sounds clearly). So
what
might a
feminist critique offer music therapy – beyond this
being a first public twinning of the two, drawing from
both
fields’ theories and from feminist activism?
The geographical range of the work presented – although
not the intention of the book – is inspiring, and
(apart from
Far Eastern voices) I can’t help questioning the
absence of voices from Latin America, Africa, from
Arab-Islamic
nations, to name a few. Impossible to include everyone
(and in any
case, the book is rather long already) but some absences
are loud. This is a pity, especially in a book such
as this, and especially given Goldberg’s point about
feminism’s
past
imposition of values and characteristics on women
of different colour (for which we might read, for women
from different
parts of the world). The risk in homogenous voices
is that feminism remains a ‘privileged’ activity
–
although
I suppose,
who is privileged and in whose eyes is part of a
larger socio-discursive critique.
Under the equally broad umbrella of music therapy
work are chapters to do with theory and discourse
in Part
III, and
here Rolvsjord’s chapter is captivating, while
that by Edwards wonderfully energetic. In part I are
chapters
clustered under
a ‘sociological’ label, and here, both Carolyn
Kenny and Frances Goldberg speak as older women with
distinctive
life
experiences whose pivotal positions help to broaden
the
notion of a ‘feminist music therapy’. Part IV is
to do with feminist
training, supervision and ethics and research,
where well-known ‘names’ are drawn together (for which,
read Hadley, Wheeler,
Dileo and Forinash), and Part II portrays clinical
work (more on this later). What the range and scope
of his
book conveys
is that music therapy as a profession has become
‘grown up', now able to ‘brand’ itself (as Streeter
reminds
us) in whichever
way it might choose.
Various thoughts came to mind, reading this book.
One is flagged by sociologist Jennifer Adrienne,
in the
first chapter,
who, on the basis of feminist values, proposes
some principles for a feminist music therapy.
Reading these, I was struck
by the close parallels with another critique
of music
therapy, this time from emerging community music
therapy writings.
By happy coincidence, chapter 2, by Lucy O’Grady
and Katrina McFerran, addresses this very issue,
in their
lively and
punchy ‘Birthing Feminist Community Music Therapy’.
Whatever next, I find myself wondering. Another
thought is more
of a question: what does feminism offer music
therapy as a profession
(in other words, beyond being interesting to
a finite number of music therapists – male and female)?
Like
some of the
authors themselves, I remain unclear: Joke Bradt’s
refreshing question (am I feminist enough to
write
in this book)
resonated with my own (am I feminist enough to
review it). Cheryl Dileo
questions the limitations of a feminist critique
of music therapy, while the need for a broader
music therapy
critique
is raised by several writers. Kenny’s disillusionment
with the language of psychology and the search
for ‘a new language’,
hints at a broader offering, as does O’Grady
and McFerran’s search for an antidote to ‘psychoppression’
- which
implicitly suggests that this might not only
come
from men. Happily,
these kinds of broader offerings (and there are
more) are part of this book, which says something
about
inclusivity from which our profession can only
benefit.
To return to the geography of this book, I found
the chapters by Kim and Lee of their work in
Taiwan and
Korea particularly
fascinating. Kim writes of the traditional
roles of women in Korea and the bravery shown by the
women’s movement
there, while Lee’s account is of traditional
indigenous medical
practices, and the role and place of music
therapy
in Taiwan, and of women within music therapy.
Both are fascinating
as
socio-political narratives, and Kim’s insistence
on
a Korean feminism to help address Korean women’s
issues, helps dispel
the issue of an imported and ‘colonising’ discourse.
One question these two chapters raises, is
whether women’s
issues
are addressed only by feminism, but that is
another discussion.
At this point, I want to focus on one aspect
of the book that spoke the loudest and clearest
to
me: the
thread
that binds it together, rather than feminism,
is the power of
the clinical stories in Part II. How unsurprising,
I can’t help thinking. The fact that these
stories are
written by
women, of work with women, is possibly immaterial
(after all, Forinash reminds us that 88%
of music therapists
in the US are women). The stories told by
Dorit Amir, Theresa
Merrill, Joke Bradt, Sandra Curtis, Elizabeth
York, and Laurie Jones are powerful and moving
–their
feminist framing adds
little to their power. In fact, in some cases,
the rather
self-conscious feminist voice framing the
chapters are distracting and distancing – and repetitive.
We are given
similar quasi-formal
overviews of feminism over and over, and
here
the editor’s pen should have been ruthless.
A case
in point is Laurie
Jones’ chapter, whose main text on popular
music, girl bands, and song lyrics is informative,
and
distant. In her conclusion
is a snippet which caught my attention: the
story of
a bunch of teenage girls taking on a local
radio station to redress
the negative portrayal of women in Rap and
Hip Hop music. Here is ‘real life’ musical
activism
– and
teenage girls
moreover. That’s the kind of story that makes
this reader sit up and take note. And take
note I did,
when the writers
told their stories personally and with passion.
This leads to another aspect of the book,
which is (again) broader than feminism.
This is to
do with
how, as music
therapists, we tell our stories, and what
we take for granted (and exclude)
in their telling. This book raises this
point through a feminist frame, seeking to redress
the (possibly
mechanistic, and
positioned here as patriarchal) distinction
and separations between our personal- idiosyncratic
stories, our
social identity as a men or women, our
professional-cultural identity as
music therapists, and our identity as writers
about music therapy. In much music therapy
writing,
our
various
roles
and identities remain a given – or rather,
a hidden. Here, with few exceptions, the
authors ‘tell their
stories’ as
well as their stories about music therapy.
At
the end of Parts 1 and 2, I felt that I
had been privy
to a
range of
writers telling their personal experiences
and beliefs– which was enjoyable and satisfied
a
rather voyeuristic
curiosity.
In this sense, here is a fascinating book.
I learnt things about people whose writings
I have
read
for many years.
Finally, this book has some interesting
bits and some truly long-winded repetitive
bits.
The distinctive
voices are refreshing,
while the more formal disembodied voices
alienating. Some of its points are part
of a wider music
therapy critique
and debate, and, to repeat, there are
some fascinating clinical stories. However,
to frame all this
as a feminist
stance,
taken by feminists, writing about work
by women, with women, speaking women’s
language
- feels
limiting. Perhaps, (to
borrow from Rolvsjord) Feminist Music
Therapy needs a further ‘de-stabilising discourse’.
This bookreview was released January 31, 2007. ©2007
Nordic Journal of Music Therapy
Hadley, S. (Ed.). (2006). Feminist perspectives in music
therapy. Gilsum NH: Barcelona Publishers. US$54, 500 pages,
ISBN: 978-10891278-38-X
Occasionally within professions, books are published that
have the potential to motivate reflection and prompt change.
Feminist Perspectives in Music Therapy, edited by Susan
Hadley, and published by Barcelona Publishers is an example
of such a book. Feminist perspectives, and ones that vary
in content, view and application, are presented and considered
in relation to music therapy in this text, and as a consequence
self-reflection in the reader is encouraged. For this reason
and for others shared in this review, the book is highly
recommended to those within and associated with music therapy.
The book is divided into four sections. However, each chapter
is able to be consulted as a stand-alone document. Section
one is useful to those aiming to learn more about feminism
and those wanting to extend or develop a culturally sensitive
music therapy practice. In this section, the reader gains
a sense of the unending possibilities of embracing feminism
within their work, as reflections about feminist music
therapy from around the world are found here (e.g., work
by Jennifer Adrienne, Lucy O’Grady, Katrina McFerran, Frances
Smith Goldberg, Seung-A Kim, ChihChen Sophia Lee and Carolyn
Bereznak Kenny is included).
Clinical work is solidly focussed
upon in section two with issues related to feminism directly
referenced in this section (e.g., racism and hetero-sexism).
The information in this section broadens the literature
base of many areas of music therapy practice (i.e. people
with CVA, by Theresa Merrill; chronic pain, by Jose Bradt;
trauma, by Dorit Amir; and work with those who have or
are experiencing abuse, by Colleen Purdon, Sandra L.
Curtis and Elizabeth York), and it is recommended as a
supplement
to the clinical-focussed literature already available
within the field.
In section three, feminist theory is
shared
that has the potential to challenge current practice
and assumptions within music therapy. This section, to
me,
is a highlight of the book, as the information here
has the potential to shape the development of the profession.
Randi Rolvsjord, for example, explores discourse (e.g.,
the concept of the “holding mother”) within music therapy
and shares her belief that “non-gendered concepts”
(p.
322) are required for feminist music therapy. Jane
Edwards highlights that “one of the greatest capacities
of professional
therapy facilitation through music is to come alongside
clients into a new realm of self-determined agency,
sometimes even from the source of our and their anger and
rage
about their circumstances” (p. 384). Laurie Jones shares
reflections
about song selection and how sexist subtexts may influence
therapy. Plus, a discussion about capitalism’s influence
regarding the use of branding in music therapy (e.g., the
labelling of models of music therapy such as community
music therapy) is provided by Elaine Streeter. This section
is rich with knowledge and critical appraisals of current
practice and contemporary thought/trends within music therapy,
and can be used to stimulate and fuel debate within music
therapy.
Music therapy teaching (Susan Hadley), supervision
(Michelle Forinash), assessment (Sue Shuttleworth), research
(Barbara Wheeler) and ethics (Cheryl Dileo) are explored
in relation to feminism in the final section. In this
section, the notion that feminist research is synonymous
with qualitative
research is debunked (Barbara Wheeler). Plus, reservations
about a number of practices within feminist therapy are
challenged, in particular, the use of self-disclosure
and the need for all therapists to become social activists
(Cheryl Dileo). This critical reflection is a welcomed
addition in the text, as often the authors seemed able
to critique non-feminist viewpoints, but less frequently
offered a critique of their own viewpoint when presenting
their work. Nevertheless, Cheryl Dileo concludes that
“it
is essential for music therapists to be knowledgeable
about feminist therapy and feminist therapy ethics” (p.
488).
In summary, this book and the process involved in making
it (as described by Susan Hadley early in the book)
are examples of community development work in action within
our profession. It is an exciting and challenging text
that is useful, practical yet also intellectually stimulating.
It is highly recommended for use within the field. Reviewer:
Barbara Daveson, RMT Head of the Music Therapy Department,
The Royal Hospital for Neuro-disability, London and PhD
Candidate, University of Melbourne, Australia
Feminist Perspectives in Music Therapy
Dr. Susan Hadley, Editor
Gilsum, NH: Barcelona Publishers, 2005
ISBN 978-10891278-38-X
Reviewed by J.J. Nicol (MTA, PhD), University of
Saskatchewan
I imagine that readers will have one of three responses
upon reading the title of Susan Hadley’s 2005 book,
Feminist Perspectives in Music Therapy – bored indifference;
scepticism about the need for such a book; or immediate
curiosity. It is only fair to let you know that I
was of the latter response. I was instantly excited
to see these two words together because although
they are key elements of my professional identity,
there has been little to guide me in their integration.
Consequently, I was delighted to discover this book,
and proud to recognize women with Canadian ties contributing
chapters (i.e., Sandi Curtis, Carolyn Kenny, Terra
Merrill, Colleen Purdon) and being cited (Sue Baines).
The book opens with an overview of feminism. Defined
as the belief that gender inequality exists based
on longstanding assumptions of male superiority and
centrality that must be identified, challenged, and
critiqued, feminism is competently introduced by
the editor, Susan Hadley. The multiple feminisms
that characterize contemporary feminism are explained
and a succinct, well-referenced, historical rendering
of the three waves of feminism is presented.
The next 21-chapters are authored by women who represent
an international community of women allied with both
music therapy and feminism. The chapters are divided
into four sections: (a) theory, (b) practice, (c)
feminist critiques of conventional music therapy,
and (d) training issues.
The first section of theoretical contributions focuses
on the development of feminist music therapy models.
Perspectives are wide-ranging, variously informed
by sociology, community music therapy, an indigenous
ecological worldview, the Goddess tradition, the
Korean theme of Han (i.e., the longstanding silent
suffering as well as resilience of Korean women over
time) and the Taiwanese culture of music, healing
and women.
The second section describes individual and group
music therapy as practiced with a feminist lens.
Six chapters are included in this section. Clinical
work is described with: (1) a West Indian woman who
became involved in music therapy after suffering
a stroke and being admitted to the long term care
wing of a hospital; (2) adolescent girls participating
in individual music therapy because of issues related
to abuse and violence; (3) adult women involved in
group music therapy at a battered women’s shelter;
(4) research participants in a music therapy group
offered to members of a support group for female
survivors of domestic violence; (5) Jewish Israeli
women in individual music therapy because of trauma
and loss; and (6) women living with chronic pain.
The third section includes chapters that critique
current music therapy theory and practice, particularly
focusing on language (e.g., the use of “mother” concepts);
song selection; the increase in music therapy “brands;”
and women’s representation in healthcare, music and
music therapy, as well as the value of dialectical
understandings (i.e., accepting opposing ideas as
both true and both false, that is, incomplete without
each other).
The final section is on training issues. Authors
reflect on how a feminist identity both shapes and
troubles the work associated with training music
therapists: e.g., teaching in the classroom, supervising
student practica, assessing clients, researching
music therapy, and adopting ethical practices.
Canada is ably represented by Carolyn Kenny (co-founder
of Capilano College music therapy program and first
program supervisor of the British Columbia Open University
Masters in Music Therapy); Terra Merrill (graduate
of the Capilano College Bachelor of Music Therapy
program and the British Columbia Open University
Masters in Music therapy program); Colleen Purdon
(music educator and music therapist working in Northern
Ontario); and Sandi Curtis (Music Therapy Co-ordinator
and School of Music Director at the University of
Windsor). Carolyn Kenny uses personal narrative to
track her development as both a music therapist and
an aboriginal woman (Choctaw/Ukrainian ancestry and
adopted Haida Nation), and to position her criticism
of feminist theories that romanticize and commercialize
indigenous beliefs and practices. Indigenous teachings,
poetry, journal entries, and moments of personal
epiphany integrate into a vision of music therapy
as a unique, ecological endeavour that emphasizes
the elements of beauty, space and time.
Terra Merrill weaves personal journaling, theory,
and clinical work in a specific work context to demonstrate
how each informs the other, and how a work environment
can be inhospitable to the expression of humanistic,
feminist practices. Similar observations are made
in Lucy O’Grady and Katrina McFerran’s chapter on
feminist community music therapy, and Jennifer Adrienne’s
chapter on a feminist sociological model of music
therapy. Merrill writes articulately and evocatively,
sensitively exploring the uncertainties of “doing
right” for an aphasic stroke victim. There is a haunting
description of the distraught wailing client whose
behaviour underscores just “how incorrect it is to
be too loud, too emotional, too visceral, not white”
(p. 191). Readers are effectively led to recognize
that even though we may feel powerless as music therapists,
our clients are even more powerless and we must consider
pursuing a social activist agenda on their behalf.
Colleen Purdon similarly challenges readers, urging
us to acknowledge the harsh reality of violence perpetrated
on Canadian girls and women, and to responsibly educate
ourselves and become responsive practitioners and
advocates. Canadian statistical data and information
are cited that persuasively support Purdon’s belief
that “it is hard to imagine a music therapist who
does not have firsthand experience as a witness to
abusive behaviour, as a victim or perpetrator, or
as a helper” (p. 210). Society’s general silence
on the subject is condemned and music therapists
asked to recognize the ways in which music therapy
work can repeat overt and covert abusive tactics
that undermine therapeutic work with any disadvantaged
population, but in particular, work with abused teen
girls. Helpful therapeutic plans are included along
with more detail on the healing and recovery work
of three adolescent girls.
Sandra Curtis celebrates the song writing of women
participating in group music therapy while living
in a shelter in order to escape abusive partners.
The life circumstances of two clients, Rosalyn and
Julie, are conveyed in real and tangible ways. Rosalyn
and Julie’s lyrics are blunt and sometimes ugly,
simultaneously shocking and energizing with their
audacity and unadorned simplicity. This chapter conveys
music’s potency in catalyzing resiliency, and reconnecting
clients with their strength and health as well as
highlights the demanding nature of doing this kind
of feminist music therapy work.
All of the book’s chapters are well written, conversational,
and stimulating. Many of the authors include personal
information to frame their current understandings,
which strengthens the writing as well as encourages
readers to reflect on their own intersections of
experience and knowledge. By sharing their journeys
with readers, the authors encourage readers to engage
in their own explorations of voice as women and men
who live and work in a world that is, amongst other
things, androcentric (male-centred), patriarchal
(male-dominated), and misogynist (women-diminishing).
The writing is diverse, contradictory, and not easily
integrated. Frances Smith Goldberg’s celebration
of the Goddess and Carolyn Kenny’s description of
the Earth as Mother hint at essentialist understandings
of gender, assumptions that are soundly critiqued
and rejected in Randi Rolvsjord’s chapter on gender
politics in music therapy discourse. Seung-A Kim
uses the concept of “han” and quiet suffering to
contextualize feminism in Korea whereas Dorit Amir
evokes feminism in Israel with the image of “awakening
the wild woman.” Cheryl Dileo identifies social activism
as being potentially unethical whereas Michele Forinash
describes feminist music therapy supervision using
a 4-stage model, of which the fourth stage is “adopting
a social action, collective perspective”(p. 417).
This messiness is perhaps a suitable place for feminism
to be right now. The third wave of feminism has involved
a long period of thinking, writing and trying to
make sense of the construct of woman/womanhood/feminine.
According to Jane Edwards, it may be time to “embrace
the gift of uncertainty” (p. 382) or to develop what
Elaine Streeter calls “muddle capacity,” that is,
…the means by which multi-stranded, unpredictable
interactions are engaged in and valued for what they
are—indistinct. The muddle capacity is useful because
it allows muddled situations to be contained and
responded to without the need to distinguish between
discrete elements. (p. 359)
American feminist scholar, Patti Lather, recently
published a new book titled Getting Lost, which introduces
“getting lost” as a legitimate and productive way
of knowing. Rather than being viewed as problematic,
the incompatibility of ideas is understood as an
accurate indicator of life’s complexity. Based on
this post-modern framework, Susan Hadley can be judged
as having edited a collection of both divergent and
convergent writing, which strengthens rather than
undermines the book’s scholarship.
Feminist Perspectives in Music Therapy is not a
book that will appeal to everybody. The book is discomforting
and provocative. Apparently the controversy started
right from the start as the book was being brought
forward to publication. Why are there no male writers?
Why do we need this book? Am I feminist enough to
contribute to it? I believe the book, now completed
and whole, answers these questions. The book creates
a space for the development of women’s knowledge
and provides an opportunity to explore, name, reflect,
and agitate. Feminism provides a way of seeing things
from different vantage points. This multiplicity
fosters dialectical understanding, which is a necessarily
unsettling process. By offering a critical perspective
on music therapy, the authors ask music therapists
to interrogate rather than accept the presumed innocence
of their work. The authors are encouraging rather
than admonishing, inviting music therapists to be
responsible for their choices by analyzing what they
do and why. I am pleased to report that the book
is a success – generated by contributions from a
variety of women with a range of ages, nationalities,
practices – and marks an important point in music
therapy history, introducing the idea of music therapists
as social agents and identifying the political nature
of helping, even for music therapists.
References
Lather, P. (2007). Getting Lost: Feminist Efforts
toward a Double(d) Science. Albany: State University
of New York Press.
|