Feminist Perspectives in Music Therapy
Reviews

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.