Those who work in various manifestations of the classical renewal movement know that some subjects enjoy more attention (and affection) than others. As a music teacher, I am witness to the comparative dearth of fine arts materials appropriate for the classical or Charlotte Mason lesson. It is time our community addresses this.

I recently spoke with several representatives of classical schools and school networks about this very issue. All were in agreement that finding quality fine arts teaching candidates was much more difficult than, say, finding quality literature, history, or Latin teachers. I have my own theories as to why this may be, but I will save those (likely contentious) thoughts for another post. After all, one controversy per post is probably a good limit. So here is my first one:

While the composer study is a good practice, we should be careful to teach real history and good listening habits to our students. Therefore, we should strive to avoid at all costs the “false traditions” that creep into the biographies we use.

There are two main categories of these falsehoods. First, many of them have been handed down to us through generations of use. For example, many Charlotte Mason curricula refer to John Frederick Rowbotham’s The Private Life of the Great Composers or Milton Cross’s Encyclopedia for inspiration and guidance. These are excellent resources, and they can be far better than more modern biographical interpretations. However, they are not infallible, nor immalleable in their facts. We have learned new things about composers and their music since the 1890s. Other biographical anthologies fare little better. No, Haydn didn’t compose the Surprise symphony to wake a sleepy Prince Esterhazy. Bach probably didn’t copy music by candlelight in opposition to his brother’s instructions. Yet these stories stubbornly remain because we use these resources uncritically.

Second, some of the anecdotes arise from a need to sensationalize these lives for the benefit of our children. We think they need the drama, so we find the conflict, the morals, and the nice, tidy endings to composers’ experiences. Often, the natures of these experiences simply are not true.

Again, I am sympathetic to using older books and materials. After all, I am fond of Randall Jarrell’s quip that we know everything that the eighteenth century did not, and nothing that they did. That hubris is to be lamented, perhaps now more than ever. However, we shouldn’t freeze our understanding of the past anymore than we would encourage our students to halt their own learning at a given age.

With this in mind, it is my intention to begin releasing updated composer studies for anyone who would like to use them. A pillar of the classical classroom is the encounter of the good, true, and beautiful. With the fine arts, the good and the beautiful often take care of themselves. We should caution one another to teach only the true, as well.

You may know of great resources for the classical or homeschool lesson in this regard. If so, that is wonderful. But I feel a calling to contribute my own knowledge to this field. With this movement at its 21st century blossoming, the more resources we have, the better.