"Tradition," bellows Tevye in the musical Fiddler on the Roof. Although we are often quick to break, bend, or even defy the rules in an attempt to break with particular traditions, as music instructors we often find ourselves in the position of wondering exactly how to observe tradition in the first place.

Three fellow AMTA (Albuquerque Music Teachers' Association) colleagues met over breakfast and luke-warm coffee at a local eatery one morning to gravely discuss the state of the world, the future of the presidency, the latest sheet music sales and other earth-shaking topics when this conversation ensued. (The names of the guilty have been changed to protect the innocent).

Teacher #1: Those of you who didn't hear Ralph Berkowitz the other morning don't know what you missed.

Teacher #3: Go ahead, rub it in. But I was teaching myself!

Teacher #2: Speaking of teaching #1, did you pick up on what he was saying about tradition?

Teacher #1: I thought the story about Tanglewood really illustrated the circular aspect of tradition. This camp, created as the only one of its kind, became a model for future music summer camps everywhere.

Teacher #2: Well, it's pretty obvious to me that as teachers we all start traditions, some in smaller or larger ways than others. But I wish I could trace my lineage as a pianist back to Beethoven!

Teacher #3: You could if you had the missing information. Just like we can all trace ourselves as musicians back to the earliest beginnings of man. Did you read that article where many anthropologists now believe we developed song-like vocal patterns before organized speech?

Teacher #1: They're saying music came first? Isn't that kind of like the chicken and the egg question?

Teacher #2: But that's what this whole idea of tradition is about, the circular aspect between teacher and student. A teacher guides and influences a student, who in turn guides and influences someone else, and the cycle just keeps perpetuating itself.

Teacher #3: But we're not always aware of the cycle. Do you remember Nat Cole? He's probably best remembered as a popular vocalist, but he was one of the greatest jazz pianists of the 20th century. He was using sophisticated harmonic substitutions that would become the foundation of be-bop when the term was just a gleam in some other jazzman's eye. Well, he grew up literally at the knee of Earl 'Fatha' Hines, whose style he transformed into the basis of be-bop, which was translated by Charlie Parker and others into a whole new jazz vernacular.

Teacher #1: But what excites me about what Ralph said, and what you're saying, is that we're not just talking technique here, we're talking creativity. Okay, suppose you have a piano teacher who teaches a student and encourages him not only to play, but to create. Let's say this student is Beethoven, who becomes an artist creating music in his own right, which is handed down to us. We use Beethoven's music to teach our students. Our students then learn from the original student, as well as from us, and become encouraged to create on their own. Isn't it possible one of those students could become a new Beethoven?

Teacher #2: Wait a minute -- I think I can sum up what you're saying. The cycle really is tradition: Old Tradition is, let's say "tempered" with New Approaches, which then together equal a New Tradition, which in turn becomes the Old Tradition, right?

Teacher #3: Whoa! I definitely need more coffee here. Not every student is going to become a great artist, let alone a teacher in their own right -- but are you saying we need to give them more of a chance to develop the creative side of their playing? What if I'm not comfortable with that?

Teacher #2: The first thing you have to do as a teacher is to have a healthy respect for the student; the second thing you have to do is to not allow your own insecurities to get in the way of the student's development.

Teacher #1: I agree. Obviously, if you don't try you'll never know. But think about the easy jump from teaching technique to teaching interpretation. We can all teach technique, and we can all teach a student how we would interpret a piece, but why not give the student a chance to discover how they would interpret it.

Teacher #3: You mean like the compositional exercise where I give the student a nursery rhyme tune, and let them experiment with changing the mode, the rhythm, the intervallic relationships, and so on?

Teacher #1: Sure! If you encourage a student to play something "as is," then why shouldn't you also give them the chance to explore what it also could be? Staying "stuck" in tradition, so to speak, could lead to stagnation. But if you use the opportunity to motivate the student by allowing them to develop their own interpretative skills, you're not only building an awareness of the creative process, but you're building listening skills, theory skills and technique.

Teacher #2: Remember that rock star who said he rejected classical music because his father beat him for playing a Beethoven Sonata with a boogie-woogie left hand?

Teacher #1: My point exactly. Teach them what is, but let them teach you what could be!

Teacher #3: Hey, I've got it -- the "Well-Tempered Student!"

The conversation broke off at this point as napkins and other objects, edible and inedible, were tossed at Teacher #3. But the conversation gave us pause, and we wanted to share our thoughts and ideas with you. Happy teaching!