Survival of the Harmonious

This article explores the possible ways and routes that have brought music into being such a universal and important aspect of our lives. While I don’t agree with the Darwinian explanations, I find it interesting to note the universal recognition of how important music is to our lives and the attempt to discover its development from beginning to present day.

Scripture presents musicians to us in the early record of man close to creation, and I personally believe we were created with a desire to express ourselves in music. It can be a form of worship of our Creator as well as pure enjoyment and recreation. As our Creator presented us with many ways of interacting with and enjoying His creation around us, so I believe He gave us music. Many aspects of the body He created for us enable us to present and enjoy music for many of the reasons noted in the article below as well as others.

Not all of this article is credible by my standards, but I present it in its entirety for your consideration trusting your discernment to pick out the cherries and spit out the pits! I hope it gives you something to think about.

 

Mounting   evidence suggests that human beings are hard-wired to appreciate music. What   researchers want to know now is why our distant ancestors evolved music in   the first place.

By Drake Bennett  |    September 3, 2006

IF YOU HAVE SPENT any time near a   radio during the past couple months, you’ve probably heard a song called   “Crazy,” an oddball R&B ballad about insanity. The track is the   result of the collaboration between a singer who goes by the name Cee-Lo and   a producer who goes by the name Danger Mouse, and it is absurdly catchy. With   Labor Day upon us, it seems safe to call it the song of the summer.

Of course, crooning along or   tapping our feet to its loping bass line, it may not occur to most of us to   ask why “Crazy”-or any song for that matter-can so easily insinuate   itself into our consciousness. It just sounds good, the way our favorite   foods taste good.

But a growing number of   neuroscientists and psychologists are starting to ask exactly that question.   Researchers at the Montreal Neurological Institute, for example, have scanned   musicians’ brains and found that the “chills” that they feel when they   hear stirring passages of music result from activity in the same parts of the   brain stimulated by food and sex.

As evidence mounts that we’re   somehow hard-wired to be musical, some thinkers are turning their attention   to the next logical question: How did that come to be? And as the McGill   University neuroscientist Daniel Levitin writes in his just-published book, “This   is Your Brain on Music,” “To ask a question about a basic, omnipresent   human ability is to implicitly ask questions about evolution.”

The fact that music is universal   across cultures and has been part of human life for a very long   time-archeologists have found musical instruments dating from 34,000 BC, and   some believe that a 50,000-year-old hollowed-out bear bone from a Neanderthal   campsite is an early flute-does suggest that it may indeed be an innate human   tendency. And yet it’s unclear what purpose it serves.

The evolutionary benefits of our   affinity for food (nutrition) and sex (procreation) are easy enough to   explain, but music is trickier. It has become one of the great puzzles in the   field of evolutionary psychology, a controversial discipline dedicated to   determining the adaptive roots of aspects of modern behavior, from   child-rearing to religion.

Some evolutionary psychologists   suggest that music originated as a way for males to impress and attract   females. Others see its roots in the relationship between mother and child.   In a third hypothesis, music was a social adhesive, helping to forge common   identity in early human communities.

And a few leading evolutionary   psychologists argue that music has no adaptive purpose at all, but simply   manages, as the Harvard psychologist Steven Pinker has written, to “tickle   the sensitive spots” in areas of the brain that evolved for other   purposes. In his 1997 book “How the Mind Works,” Pinker dubbed music   “auditory cheesecake,” a phrase that in the years since has served as a   challenge to the musicologists, psychologists, and neuroscientists who   believe otherwise.

The first thinker to try to find a   place for music in the Darwinian order was Charles Darwin. In his 1871 book   “The Descent of Man,” he argued, “musical notes and rhythm were first   acquired by the male or female progenitors of mankind for the sake of   charming the opposite sex.” Darwin’s model was bird song. In many bird   species, males sing to impress females. Depending on the species, females will   tend toward the males with the broadest repertoire or the most complex or   unique songs.

The foremost defender of that   model today is Geoffrey Miller, an evolutionary psychologist at the   University of New Mexico. Miller argues that in prehistoric communities,   singing and dancing might have worked-as they do today in some Native   American cultures-as proxies for hunting and warfare. The ability to come up   with imaginative melodies and rhythms would connote intelligence and   creativity, and the long, arduous dances would be proof of one’s   endurance-the sort of traits that a choosy female would like to see in her   offspring.

Even today, Miller argues, music   retains some of its old procreative roots. Looking at 6,000 recent jazz,   rock, and classical albums, Miller found that 90 percent were produced by   men, and that those male musicians tended to reach their peak musical   production around age 30, which he notes, is also the peak of male sexual   activity.

Miller points in particular to the   example of Jimi Hendrix. Miller has written that, despite dying at 27,   Hendrix had “sexual liaisons with hundreds of groupies, maintained parallel   long-term relationships with at least two women, and fathered at least three   children in the United States, Germany, and Sweden. Under ancestral   conditions before birth control, he would have fathered many more.” To   Miller, it was Hendrix’s status as a music-maker rather than his fame or   charisma that gave him this sexual allure.

Levitin sees some merit in the   sexual selection model, but he cautions against seeking support for it in   contemporary music. It’s important to keep in mind, he argues, that “we’re   not talking about someone on the subway listening to an iPod or even someone   in a concert hall listening to Mahler.” The environment in which music   would have evolved would have been much more participatory. Even today, he   argues, the Western idea of the concert, which separates performer from   audience and music from movement, is an anomaly. In many of the world’s   languages, Levitin points out, “there’s one word for music and dance.”

Others who study the issue are   more skeptical. David Huron, a musicologist at Ohio State University, argues   that the Darwin model would lead one to expect a differential in musical   abilities between the sexes. Typically, he points out, sexual selection leads   to “dimorphism,” a divergence in traits between male and female. “It’s   only the peacock, not the peahen, that has the plumage,” he notes.

“There’s no evidence whatsoever   that men are more sophisticated than women in terms of the ability to   serenade someone from beneath a balcony,” he says. Steven Mithen, an   archeologist at England’s Reading University, agrees. In his book “The   Singing Neanderthals,” published last spring, he writes that the male   dominance that Miller sees in the modern recording industry is hardly proof   of a difference in innate ability or proclivity. Sexism would explain it just   as well.

Indeed, if an alternate   explanation is correct, it is women who were the original music-makers. One   of the most universal musical forms is the lullaby. “Mothers everywhere   soothe infants by using their voice,” says Sandra Trehub, a psychologist   at the University of Toronto, “There isn’t a culture in which that doesn’t   happen.”

Trehub has done research showing   that mothers tend almost automatically to make their speech more musical when   they talk to their babies, even more so in experiments when they are not   allowed to touch them. This has led a few thinkers, Trehub included, to   speculate that music may have evolved as a baby-calming tool in   hunter-gatherer societies. Unlike other primate species, human babies can’t   simply cling to their mothers’ backs, and singing may have been a way for   mothers to maintain contact with their children when they had to put them   down to do other tasks.

Perhaps the most widely touted   explanation, though, is that music arose as a way for groups of early humans   to create a sense of community. Among other things, this might explain why   music-whether it’s singing hymns, school fight songs, or simply “Happy   Birthday”-is so often a social experience. The model is neither love   song nor lullaby but anthem.

In “The Singing   Neanderthal,” Mithen argues that communal music-making does two things.   By demanding coordination and basic harmony, it works as a sort of rehearsal   for the teamwork required for more high-stakes endeavors like hunting and   communal defense. And the mere act of singing and moving in time together   helps forge a sense of group identity. As evidence he points to the complex   musical rituals of the South African Venda people, but also to the US Army,   which sees chanting while marching in unison as a vital part of creating   esprit de corps.

There is suggestive research   linking music and sociability. Daniel Levitin, for instance, points to the   difference between two mental disorders, Williams syndrome and autism. People   with Williams are mentally retarded, but at the same time, as Levitin puts   it, “highly social, highly verbal, and highly musical.” Autism, on the   other hand, while it also often causes mental impairment, tends to make   people both less social and less musical.

To Steven Pinker, though, none of   this adds up to a convincing case for music’s evolutionary purpose. Pinker is   not shy about seeing the traces of evolution in modern man-in “How the Mind   Works” he devoted a chapter to arguing that emotions were   adaptations-but he stands by his “auditory cheesecake” description.

“They’re completely bogus   explanations, because they assume what they set out to prove: that hearing   plinking sounds brings the group together, or that music relieves   tension,” he says. “But they don’t explain why. They assume as big a   mystery as they solve.” Music may well be innate, he argues, but that   could just as easily mean it evolved as a useless byproduct of language,   which he sees as an actual adaptation.

And Pinker isn’t the only skeptic.   Back in April, as part of an experiment led by Levitin to compare the   physiological response of performers and listeners, Boston Pops maestro Keith   Lockhart conducted the Boston Symphony Orchestra while he, a few musicians,   and a portion of the audience were wired with monitors that tracked their   heart rate, muscle tension, respiration, and other bodily signals of emotion.

Yet though Lockhart was happy to   make himself Levitin’s guinea pig, he confesses to be ultimately uninterested   in the origins of music.

“It’s enough for me to know that   music does have a distinct emotional reaction in almost everybody that no   other art form can boast of,” he says. “I’ve never particularly wanted   to know why that happens.”

Drake Bennett is the staff writer   for Ideas. E-mail drbennett@globe.com.

Music Therapy in Action

Tiny preemies get a boost from live music therapy

 

Note: One of my readers, Abigail, sent this article to me and it very much reflects the experiences I have had while playing the harp at the bedside. Very good information. Thanks for your interest. If anyone else of my readers has an article to share, send it in  – Thanks and Blessings – Steve

By LINDSEY TANNER   –   The Associated Press

CHICAGO —  May 16, 2013

As the guitarist strums and softly sings a lullaby in Spanish, tiny Augustin Morales stops squirming in his hospital crib and closes his eyes.

This is therapy in a newborn intensive care unit, and research suggests that music may help those born way too soon adapt to life outside the womb.

Some tiny preemies are too small and fragile to be held and comforted by human touch, and many are often fussy and show other signs of stress. Other common complications include immature lungs, eye disease, problems with sucking, and sleeping and alertness difficulties.

Recent studies and anecdotal reports suggest the vibrations and soothing rhythms of music, especially performed live in the hospital, might benefit preemies and other sick babies.

Many insurers won’t pay for music therapy because of doubts that it results in any lasting medical improvement.  Some doctors say the music works best at relieving babies’ stress and helping parents bond with infants too sick to go home.

But amid beeping monitors, IV poles and plastic breathing tubes in infants’ rooms at Chicago’s Ann & Robert H. Lurie Children’s Hospital, music therapist Elizabeth Klinger provides a soothing contrast that even the tiniest babies seem to notice

“What music therapy can uniquely provide is that passive listening experience that just encourages relaxation for the patient, encourages participation by the family,” Klinger said after a recent session in Augustin’s hospital room.

The baby’s parents, Lucy Morales and Alejandro Moran, stood at the crib and whispered lovingly to their son as Klinger played traditional lullabies, singing in Spanish and English.

“The music relaxes him, it makes him feel more calm” and helps him sleep better too, Lucy Morales said. “Sometimes it makes us cry.”

Some families request rock music or other high-tempo songs, but Klinger always slows the beat to make it easier on tender ears.

“A lot of times families become afraid of interacting with their children because they are so sick and so frail, and music provides them something that they can still do,” Klinger said, who works full time as a music therapist but her services are provided for free.

Music therapists say live performances in hospitals are better than recorded music because patients can feel the music vibrations and also benefit from seeing the musicians.

More than two dozen U.S. hospitals offer music therapy in their newborn intensive care units and its popularity is growing, said Joanne Loewy, a music therapist who directs a music and medicine program at Beth Israel Medical Center in New York.

Preemies’ music therapy was even featured on a recent episode of the hit TV show “American Idol,” when show finalist Kree Harrison watched a therapist working with a tiny baby at Children’s Hospital Los Angeles.

“Music is such a huge part of our lives and to do something like this, make it a sort of healing process, is a cool thing,” Harrison said on the April 25 episode.

Dr. Natalia Henner, a newborn specialist at Lurie hospital, said studies in nursing journals show music therapy for preemies “does help with promoting growth. And there’s some good literature … saying that the time to discharge is a little bit shorter in babies who’ve been exposed to more music therapy.”

She said it “definitely facilitates bonding” between parents of preemies and other babies too sick to go home.

Loewy led a study published last month in the journal Pediatrics, involving 11 U.S. hospitals. Therapists in the study played special small drums to mimic womb sounds and timed the rhythm to match the infants’ heartbeats. The music appeared to slow the infants’ heartbeats, calm their breathing, and improve sucking and sleeping, Loewy said.

Soozie Cotter-Schaufele, a music therapist at Advocate Children’s Hospital-Park Ridge near Chicago, says soothing rhythmic sounds of music can mimic womb sounds and provide a comforting environment for preemies. She sings and plays a small harp or guitar, and says the sounds help calm tiny babies while they’re undergoing painful medical procedures.

Cotter-Schaufele said she recently heard from a woman whose daughter was born prematurely at her hospital six years ago. She had played the 1960s folk song “Today” for the infant.

The mother reported her daughter “‘still loves that song,” She said ‘She didn’t learn that song from me, she learned it from you,'” Cotter-Schaufele said.