what’s a sound poem worth part one

What’s a sound poem worth?

My creative writing students finished their sound compositions- working in groups they made recordings. And on Friday, we sat down together and had a listen.

Each piece is remarkable. Each piece has its own character. And they all reflected the work we had done in improvisation, in voice work, in attending to other sound composers, in discussions of the expressive, creative, political, and aesthetic nature of sound.

I didn’t think of them as “student work.” And I want to think about what I mean by that. I don’t normally like using words like that. I don’t like talking about what’s good for having been written by a 5 year old or a 16 year old or a 45 year old or an octogenarian. What do we mean when we look at a piece of student writing and ask about the grade or level of the student before we pass judgment on the quality of the work? Surely that’s a statement about the level of skill or the artist (maybe? if it even is that ?), not about the quality of the art. Lurking around in there I’m sure is an idea about labour and capital. It’s related to the dismissive “a five year old could have done that.”  (related issues, examples: Kenny G’s OCR’ing much of Day, Xian Bök’s much touted Herculean 7 year Eunoia labours). (other related issues: “art is difficult, entertainment is easy.” scratch any student discussion about aesthetics, and you’ll find that sentiment under the first few layers.)

Ok. So, what do I mean by it. Because I did very quickly start thinking, “these wouldn’t be out of place on a compilation with Christine Duncan.” Or… “this kid could give Paul Dutton a run for his money, if he chose to.”

But I abhor the labour = capital equation.

Here’s what I think I meant. I think I meant, “I am enjoying these in the same way I enjoy the works of art I choose to listen to on my own time. I would choose to listen to these even if I didn’t have to mark them.”

[Evaluating Student Poetry-“taste in the classroom: your style, your teaching, your students, their art, your art.”]

Does that mean they’re good?

I watch this thought as it bubbles up from wherever these things start, and forms into words in my mind: “Does that mean they exceed the values of the classroom and should therefore all get a perfect mark?”

What does that even mean? How deeply divorced are the values of the classroom from that of the world? What do I fundamentally believe about the value of what we do in class if a thought like that is in me?

Another question I contemplated as I listened: how brave they were. These 15 students undertook something that many writers would dismiss as ridiculous. Teenagers, who fear ridicule above all else, and for whom social acceptance is everything, the only capital that counts.

So, do I give them each a perfect mark because they took such extraordinary risks?

Well, no, of course not. Though it’s tempting.
But if I only give A for effort, it would undermine my assessment of the aesthetic value of their creations. And it’s a bit patronizing, isn’t it? Oh, good for you! Coochie Coochie coo!

Nonetheless…
There is a place in the classroom for assessing the relationship between the student and their art. And this is where evaluation of student poetry is a very different exercise than the work of the critic. As teachers, we are assessing learning. Not just the skill, but the acquisition of skill. Not just the quality of the thought, but the fact that a particular student was able to give the thought utterance, when she might not have been able to at the beginning of the term.

This is big. And tricky. So I’m going to put it aside for later writing and reflection.
[Evaluating Student Poetry: Lessons from the Poolhall]

Cause all I wanna do, really, truly, is spend some time with each piece, and evaluate it on its own terms. Just as soon as I figure out what the hell those terms are!