From the perspective of 2019, it is important to remember that land was coercively, and often violently, taken from Indigenous populations all over the world by colonial powers in the early efforts of colonialist expansion to make room for European-centered institutions noticeable in many present-day societies. One such institution has served as the model standard in the training and education of professional musicians within the settler-colonial nation we now regard as the United States: that is the conservatory of music. More broadly stated, a conservatory is a post-secondary music school that predominantly specializes in the training, study, and research of Western Art Music, albeit a very narrowly defined set of practices in the context of other musical forms. Conservatories are predicated on a one-to-one teaching and learning model, also known as the teacher-apprentice model, where students directly study with seasoned performers or teaching artists honing their technique, musicality, musicianship skills, and performance practices usually over the span of a four to five year period (Perkins 2013: 197). These educational institutions are often known for their instructional offerings in instrumental and vocal performance, choral and instrumental conducting, musical composition, as well as the academic fields of music theory, music education, musicology, and, more recently, ethnomusicology. The curriculum at most conservatories, and music departments attached to other institutions of higher-learning, perpetually prioritize European art music traditions, which are often rooted in heteronormative, non-diverse, and exclusionary frameworks. The decisions these institutions get to make—the pieces they program, the histories they choose to highlight, the musical styles they focus their instruction on—all impact the ways in which music education gets shaped and appropriated across musical landscapes in the U.S. Because conservatories have such power in shaping musical worlds, one would assume they would want to prioritize the voices and concerns of the students who make up these schools and continually make improvements to the model, bettering student experiences. However, most often that scenario is not the case, especially for students from black and brown communities, and those of Indigenous descent. 

Throughout the history of conservatories, non-white students have had a hard time navigating these systems. As they spent time at these institutions, the conservatory-based learning model presented barriers, leading students of color to feel isolated and as if these spaces did not exist for them and the cultural heritage and practices they brought along with them. And similar obstacles still exist for students of color today. The hierarchical social structures and the systems and individuals that function as gatekeepers to success at these schools leads non-white students to feel like they are ‘lucky to be there,’ which does not give them much agency over challenging and improving the system because it can put their own educational and professional lives on the line. Part of this reality has to do with how conservatories make it their mission to preserve the musics and performance practices, in addition to the art, language, and cultures, from Western European countries and peoples.

There are, however, some exceptions in which sonic practices outside the Western Art Music canon get included in curricular and pedagogical practices of conservatories. But, they are rarely discussed, taught, and performed in a context which centers the voice(s) of the original artist(s) and the cultural themes that undergird their work. Instead, the voice(s) of what UCLA Professor of Musicology, Tamara Levitz, calls the “musicological elite” are centered: according to her, they are commonly the gatekeepers of musicological knowledge (2018: 9), who have historically determined the narrative and framing of non-western musics. This framing is often adopted by other conservatory departments and administrators, often influencing conservatory-wide curricular structures.

With all of this in mind, below I offer up short suggestions on how we can tackle the work of de-centering, and what some may consider “decolonizing”, the European-style conservatory and its learning models. While I don’t claim to be the lone objective voice of critique of such institutions, as a student of color who has navigated the intricate highways of an American conservatory, I rather aim to contextualize the strategies being implemented throughout decolonial work across disciplines in western art music in regard to ‘the conservatory’ and its methodology, in hopes of calling everyone into the conversation.

Strategies to Decenter the Conservatory

1. Listen to the Narratives of Indigenous and Other Marginalized Students.

In a research project by New Zealand scholars interested in the power dynamics present between the Pākehā, a privileged peoples descendant from settler-colonialists, and Māori, New Zealand's Indigenous population, they explored productive, and similarly unproductive, “professional development interventions” for studio teachers (Rakena et al. 2016: 295). They point out: “interventions can be ineffective in the studio context, as studio teachers develop specific rituals and establish strong power dynamics within their teaching space. This makes it difficult for studio teachers to critically self-reflect and therefore they are reluctant to open themselves to new realities” (Rakena et al. 2016: 295). One successful tool that combats this issue presented by the researchers was to have studio teachers read confidential testimonials told by the minority Indigenous student body dealing with concerns of power and social relations, helping studio teachers critically reflect on their privilege, their role in power dynamics, and their positionality as an individual of colonial descent. The studio teachers were much more receptive to these personal accounts, leading them to be much more critically reflective on their teaching practices. Thus, narratives are a useful strategy that inspires teachers, whether new or veteraned, to develop more culturally responsive teaching methodologies, or at least presents a reason for them to do so.

2. Challenge the Musical Elite!

Given the complexities of the structural make-up of conservatories, changes to policies and curriculum are seldom. But, when students mobilize around a shared vision of the institution that will uplift and benefit the student body, especially those from historically disenfranchised communities, real change can be realized. Conservatory administrators will listen and respond to students much more viscerally if everyone is voicing the same or similar concerns. Essentially, there is power in numbers. 

3. Work to Build Equitable Connections with Local Indigenous Scholars, Historians and Musicians.

Returning to the opening point of this essay, it is easy to forget that the land a conservatory is situated upon was likely home to many Indigienous populations and native communities. Knowing the colonial histories of the region your school is located in is gravely important. Equally important is the work that should be done on behalf of the institution in reaching out to remaining local Indigenous populations to have productive and equitable dialogues surrounding the institution’s current role in bridging the cultural and classist gap that exists between these two entities. It is also a way to build rapport with Indigenous communities and foster educational opportunities for all students to learn about the Indigenous histories and epistemologies adjacent to the conservatory. 

4. If You Are Not Willing to Do Your Utmost Due Diligence when Programming (or Teaching) an ‘Orientalist’ Work or Piece of Music, then Do Not Do It At All.

If you are choosing repertoire not of European origins, or constructed around Eurocentric musical ideals, then it is imperative that you do your due diligence when researching and planning instruction around those musics. Applying a Eurocentric framework to musical practices outside the genre of western art music in the teaching, learning, and performing phases may not only lead to the perpetuation of harmful tropes and stereotypes around a given musical genre, but it also does a disservice to students who are entering a much more diverse, 21st century career market that values diversity and socially equitable approaches to a variety of disciplines in music. There’s so much to say about this topic but for the sake of brevity, I will leave it there.

5. Create/Demand Opportunities to Learn about Indigenous Musics (and Additional Musics Outside of the Western Art Music Canon), then Show Up!

Find, invent, demand, inquire about, or create avenues that you—whether a student, faculty, or staff member—can begin to center the voices of those who have historically not been given a platform to do so within a conservatory context. This can take the shape of bringing an Indigenous scholar and lecturer to campus, creating a symposium calling for research centering Indigenous research designs and methodologies, and organizing students of color to have productive conversations about race within a predominantly white social context. It also includes systematically restructuring a conservatory’s curriculum that goes beyond the ‘western’ canon and rethinks the foundational knowledge taught as the ‘fundamentals’, or overhauling Music Theory and Aural Skills courses that narrowly teach the structures of European classical music. There are many ways to dive into this work no matter who you are or where you are positioned in the hierarchical structure of the conservatory model. Be sure to ALWAYS make an attempt to attend planned events and educational opportunities that may introduce you to some of these topics of indigeneity and minoritized musics.

6. Explore Ways the Institution has been Involved or Complicit in the Settler-Colonial Agenda, Which Should Inform the Strategies to ‘Undo’.

Unbeknownst to many individuals who currently attend or work at these institutions, numerous prestigious conservatories around the United States have a connection to, or as we prefer to say, a colonialist legacy in, the historical picture of coloniality and the Indigenous historical record. Whether that be an individual that studied and/or graduated at a conservatory and went on to study “primitive” musics in the early days of ethnology and comparative musicology, or, having indigenous collections and artifacts in archival repositories situated in conservatories. Once a colonialist legacy is revealed, this information can inform the projects and curricular restructuring in which an institution decides to set its sight on, whether that is a community-based repatriation project or a campus-wide initiative highlighting Indigenous histories in ways that could not have been thought of prior to learning of these historical connections.
 

This entry serves as a call to action. It is a reminder that if no one takes ownership of the work that needs to be done to ensure a 21st-century conservatory model that works for everyone, then the work will never get done. Let's continue to uplift and center the narratives and practices of those who have historically been silenced and made to feel unwelcome in a conservatory context. And lastly let's continually use our unique privileges to stand up for others to ensure a more equitable and sustainable future for those who will come after us.