100 Books Like Tone Deaf and All Thumbs? An Invitation to Music-Making

The title clearly outlines the premise of the book, and it delivers what it promises.

Although these essays are related to teaching and learning music, the overarching principles are applicable to the development of any skill. Duke challenges any approach that would promote difficult over beautiful, or fast over meticulous, championing music teaching itself as an art.

We’ve read this book dozens of times, used it as a text for classes over the past 25 years, and included it on every suggested reading list that has anything to do with teaching and learning. If a reader takes time to deeply consider the messages in this book and put the recommended strategies into practice, the efficiency and effectiveness of every lesson will improve. 

Booth wrote this book to be a complete guide for musicians seeking to expand their careers by offering educational concerts and in-school residencies, but the unusual title is likely a subtle reference to “lessons” that challenge widely accepted assumptions in the world…of music performance.

Open to any chapter to read important, focused information on designing a compelling educational concert, but it doesn’t take long to come shocking statements like “being a teaching artist makes you a better artist” (is it possible?) or a demand that we answer the question “why an inner-city fifth grader should give a damn about Mozart” (you mean they don’t?).

Whether Booth is astutely defining the difference between entertainment and art, exploring the importance of good questioning, or reminding us how play is essential to learning and growth, the nuggets of teaching wisdom embedded in these pages are worth their weight in gold.

Psychotherapist and string teacher Edmund Sprunger addresses the complex challenges parents face when trying to help their children learn.

Violin is the subject matter here, but it’s not a stretch to transfer his understanding to virtually any other learning situation (piano lessons, math assignments, baseball practice, etc). It’s also easy to replace “Helping Parents Practice” with “Helping Mature Students Practice” and “Helping Teachers Teach” because the wisdom in this book is so universal.

What makes us lose patience with the learning process? Or why, when we try to please others, we feel like it’s never enough? Sprunger teaches us how to recognize and respond to underlying issues—often tangled up with the love we desire and deserve or don’t deserve—to discover a more internally-motivated and peaceful way to learn. 

Most teachers have a clear vision of where their students are headed: the sequences of instruction required, the stages and pacing of learning, and what students will be able to do at the end.

However, if knowledge of that end goal is not shared with students, the momentum generated by the learning, even with successful completion of each step, can be lost. When students can see where they are going, and trust the pathway designed for their optimal learning, there is a ‘buy-in” that supports their internally-driven focus and the investment of time necessary for achievement.

We have enjoyed reading, rereading, and recommending this book that clearly explains research-based and consistently effective teaching strategies.

My kids and I both love this book, which is a huge plus when reading at bedtime!

The story follows a procession of characters in their PJs on a whimsical nighttime stroll. It could be read as a chant or a song, and we all find ourselves pleasantly humming the rhythm long after we’ve finished storytime.

In these five stories music is the catalyst that shapes the narrators’ encounters with regret, failure, and loss. Through seemingly straightforward but complex dialogue, surprising plot twists, and individual revelations, Ishiguro mixes whimsy and melancholy with moments of connection and revelation—a cocktail that is oddly comforting.   

From the 1960s but still one of the greatest books on how being creative means trying everything, trusting no one, and listening to everybody and everything. After you read this you will know that you can be an artist, that is, if you are meant to be one.

Yes, the title is spelled correctly. I’ve known Stanley Booth from our days in Memphis. He has written about The Rolling Stones, B. B. King, Al Green, and Keith Richards. Keith wrote that “The interesting thing about music to me is that music has always seemed streaks ahead of any other Art form or any other form of social expression.” It has never been said any better.

Stanley Booth’s Rythm Oil contains studies of numerous, forgotten musicians and singers. It is a study of remote history. Stanley Booth doesn’t write with ink. He writes with grit.

This is actually not one book but a five-volume (!) series of books which contains some of the best writing on classical music I’ve ever come across.

Taruskin, who passed away recently, was a legendary musicologist. In his writings, he managed to combine analytic writing that addresses his colleagues with unbelievably sharp and insightful writing that I, as a classical music fan who is not a pro, enjoy tremendously.

Taruskin loved picking intellectual fights, and this sort of combative energy is gripping. In this series, there are major story arcs like the interplay between “oral” and “literate” traditions or the role of nationalism in 19th-century music. I liked how Tarsukin switches smoothly between a close analysis of a piece and a discussion of how it relates to the wider culture.

This is a history of classical music from 1900 onwards. I’ve always been interested in early twentieth-century western art. It seems to have veered off in radically new directions and expressed a different consciousness than what preceded it. Perhaps it was fomented by the dissolution of the relatively stable European order of the nineteenth century, shattered by the First World War. 

Alex Ross discusses the music of these times and the lives of the people who composed it. He is eminently capable, being musically trained, and finds the perfect balance between the technical and the personal. I was fascinated to learn that Shostakovich was a man who lived in constant fear of being purged. He always expected to be imprisoned. 

I also learned about Harry Partch, the American composer, who devised his own tuning systems and built an orchestra of strange instruments to play his music.

The Rest is Noise… show more.