“Some Believe That to Get Distinction You Need To Be Special. We Believe That To Get Distinction You Need
To Know The SECRETS!”
I came across that (or something very close to it)
pasted to a window of a small private music studio tucked away in an ill-lit
corridor in some forgotten shopping mall over in the east side of Singapore. Having just spent a couple of interesting
hours in the company of some ABRSM examiners who had just arrived to undertake
their extended examining tours, it got me thinking. Are there SECRETS to getting a Distinction?
With 40 years as a graded music examiner for the two
principal boards (ABRSM and Trinity) I have frequently been asked that question. Are there exam techniques (ie. special tricks)
which, if the candidates employs them, the examiner will automatically award Distinction?
Certainly I have had plenty of those tricks tried on
me. In Malaysia on no less than four
occasion I was unsubtly offered inducements to look favourably on a certain
teacher’s students. Many of us examiners
have found ourselves put into a very difficult position by having been offered
what seems like genuine hospitality from people overseas only to realise, far
too late in the day, that this innocent social intercourse is in fact intended
to put pressure on the examiners; I never forget one particular occasion in
Hong Kong where three of us, very seasoned examiners, were asked to comment on
a singer in a restaurant, to which we had been invited as guests of the proprietor. A few days later one of us (not me, thankfully)
reported that the same singer we had politely praised, appeared in the
examination room as a candidate.
The trouble with examiners coming from the UK (as the
vast majority of them do) to examine in other parts of the world, is that they
do not understand the different business ethics, where inducements are
considered perfectly normal, and where pressure to gain Distinction is way beyond
anything they have experienced back home.
I cannot speak for others, but inducements never achieved the desired
result with me. As I often reported,
when informing the various Boards of these situations, I accepted all
inducements to avoid causing offence, and promptly ignored them all.
So what other secrets might help a candidate achieve
Distinction?
Firstly, there is the choice of examiner. Try as the Boards might to achieve a wholly artificial
uniformity amongst their examiners (if no two people ever listen to music the
same way, why should examiners be expected to do so?), there is no doubt that
some examiners are more prone to handing out Distinctions than others. I knew of one examiner who suggested (and not
entirely flippantly), that if the candidate had taken the effort to prepare for
the exam, they deserved high marks. Some
examiners are more generous when confronted by a younger candidate at a high
grade (and Trinity commit the ultimate sin by letting their examiners know the
ages of each candidate); I remember arguing at length with another seasoned
examiner who told me how she had awarded the highest mark she ever had at a
grade 6 “because this sweet little child was just FIVE YEARS OLD!” And there is a widespread belief in some societies
that women examiners are more harsh than their male counterparts, and that
young examiners are meaner markers than older ones. I was once involved in sifting through entry
forms which included a box marked “special requests”, and was surprised how
many put as their special request “Elderly White Male Examiner please!”
But, unless there is some secret way of determining
who the examiner is going to be (and I do not believe there is), then this is a
purely chance element over which the teacher has no control.
Perhaps a secret over which the teacher/candidate has
a little more control is in the choice of repertory. If the composer of a piece is also the
examiner (something which seemed to happen a lot in my days with the ABRSM),
teachers felt that, by choosing their piece, the student stood a better chance
of gaining a Distinction. Similarly,
much effort would be made to find out who the examiner was (something which the
ABRSM used to hold as a state secret, but which Trinity never did, often
announcing the examiner and giving the examiner’s full biography, weeks before
the exams) in order to find out what their personal likes and dislikes
were. An examiner who declared an
interest in the music of Chopin would often find candidates playing Chopin to
him, while another examiner who had written about the “error” of using a pedal
in Bach, would find all the Bach works presented to him in the examination room
delivered senza pedale. I’m not sure, however, that this ever
worked; examiners are much too preoccupied with their administrative tasks in
the examination room to recognise the efforts made to entice a higher mark
through choice of music or style of performance.
Deep post-exam analysis by teachers is often carried
out as a means of trying to identify a pattern.
“All the examiners seem to ask for F sharp major in contrary motion at Grade
5. Examiners never ask for C major in
Grade 7” and so on. But while some
examiners do have their own private list of scales and exercises to ask, there
is no central directive on this, and the technical work asked in the exam is
entirely random, within the parameters of the syllabus.
So if choice of examiner, choice of repertory or section
of technical work has no effect on the result, what does? Increasingly, the technique of an appeal
seems to be a teacher’s weapon of choice.
There was a time with the ABRSM (in the days of the inimitable Pam Harewood)
when any complaint from a teacher was met with a stern, curt and dismissive
reply. Candidates and teachers are now
seen as “customers” who need to be induced to retain brand loyalty in an
evermore competitive market, so an appeal is almost automatically met with an
official assumption of the examiner’s error, and customer satisfaction is
assured by an upward revision of the mark.
However, beyond wondering what secrets there were in obtaining
a Distinction, the notice I read also made me wonder why there was considered a
need to obtain a Distinction in the first place. If we accept (as we should) that a graded
music exam is no indicator of musical ability – just an indicator of an ability
to perform specific skills – what value is there in a Distinction? Passing an exam, is, surely, enough, and with
that the student can get on with the serious business of studying music rather
than exam technique.
Unfortunately, within south-east Asian society where
there is a widespread inability to recognise musical ability, the ability to
recognise paper qualifications is endemic.
We all have stories of great musicians shunned because they have not got
a paper qualification. Singapore’s
Ministry of Education or National Arts Council would never entertain any
application from the likes of Bach, Haydn, Mozart or Beethoven because they
have no paper qualifications to show for their endeavours. Rather like the academic who publishes reams
and reams of pointless and incomprehensible gibberish simply because tenure in
post demands an active record of publication, the sterile attainment of qualifications
undermines the whole raison d’etre of
their existence.
In that culture, Distinction does matter, and every
trick known to mankind (and few besides) is brought into play in an attempt to
guarantee Distinction.
But, in truth, there are no secrets to it. With assiduous practice and hard work, any student
should pass. A student who actually
enjoys their music-making and is not too stifled by the constraints of an examination
might well get Merit. But for a Distinction,
only two things seem to help. Being exceptionally
skilled as a technician – with agile fingers and a pin-point level of accuracy –
or having a natural musical instinct which shines through even when confronted
by the horribly constraining environment of an examination.
If it was left to me, I’d give up the chase for a Distinction,
be happy with a Pass, and then go on and enjoy my music. But for too many, music has nothing to do
with enjoyment, and everything to do with hard work, misery and artistic sterility. It’s not the fault of the examination boards
that they stifle musical enjoyment; rather, it’s the fault of those who believe
that the sole purpose of a musical examination is to get a Distinction.
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