At the Whittaker Library, we use the Portal (a bit like Moodle, it’s a kind of intranet for material shared within the institution) for useful information to help our students and colleagues.
A while ago, I compiled lists of music by women composers, subdivided into categories, such as music for children, music for tuba, music for mixed chamber ensemble – but until now, I hadn’t done much in the way of subdividing the lists of music by BIPOC composers. So, I have been working on it. Despite having acquired quite a lot of music, I have discovered that the commonest instruments have by far and away the most music. Poor tuba player, if you want to diversify your programme with music by people of other ethnicities.
Some university libraries have put in a lot of effort helping students find this kind of thing – especially in Canada and the USA – and there are some useful databases to help – but I have still been struggling to find materials for some of the more minority instruments. Not a great deal for piccolo, tuba, accordion – or bagpipes! (Well, there might not be as much pipe music over there – we started the piping tradition here in Scotland. However, there are plenty of non-Scottish pipe bands. Some international pipers must also compose!)
If you play tuba, trombone, piccolo, oboe, saxophone – you get the picture – and your repertoire includes a fabulous piece of music by a BIPOC composer, PLEASE do recommend your library to get that piece in stock so that other musicians can also find it! It won’t be up to me to continue ordering music at RCS after the end of June – and that’s a strange feeling – but I can, right now, highlight the fact that libraries need to pay attention to the repertoire they buy.
If you’re a librarian – by all means, keep the standard repertoire up to date. Buy what your patrons need and ask for. But if you have a chance to do stock development, please keep the BIPOC composers in mind. They are, after all, the global majority! And I’m ashamed to say, we don’t know enough about them, though I can, hand on heart, say that I’ve been making a determined effort to find out.
I’ve been listening to Cal Newport’s book, Slow Productivity: the Lost Art of Accomplishment without Burnout, on Audible. I’ve taken my time over it – appropriately – and I’m approaching the end of it. Because I haven’t finished completely, what I’m writing here today can’t really be described as a review, so much as a first impression.
But why, you might ask, would anyone less than two months away from retirement age, decide to read a book about productivity at all? It’s a good question! I think I was both intrigued by the title, and fascinated by the different paces at which different people work. There are times when I achieve a lot – but not usually at a frenetic pace. I don’t throw myself into tasks at fever-pitch, unless a deadline is creeping up on me. On the other hand, I do tend to have so many things on the go, that going slow feels impossible. (And I’m worryingly obsessed about accomplishment and achievements! That’s how I was raised.)
The main thrust of the book is that we ‘knowledge-workers’ should be more deliberate, allow ourselves time to do things well, factor in holidays, breaks and slower-moving spells, and not take on too much. That we’re not like factory workers on an assembly line, and aren’t generally required to produce so many units of whatever-it-might-be, per hour, day or week. Newport’s historical examples are inspiring, underlining his message, but some suggestions have no application to any role I’ve ever occupied. Pay someone to do some part of my work? If I was self-employed, possibly. However, the only time I’ve ever done that, was getting my first book indexed professionally. Librarians don’t outsource their work. (Neither do 0.3 of the week researchers!) Similarly, if you own a business or are freelance, you can deliberately decide to make a little less profit in exchange for a longer, more intentional route towards a high-quality product/performance act/whatever. People employed in any kind of academia can choose to seek a promoted position or not (depending on circumstances, of course), but it’s not about profitability directly affecting one’s own pocket.
However, the suggestion to look at your role and focus on tasks that will have the most impact, is certainly sensible. As I’ve mentioned before, cataloguing barely-used jazz CDs is a soul-destroying task, mainly because it has such little impact. I hardly needed an Audible book to endorse that sentiment, but there it was.
Impactful Librarianship
As I did the ironing one night last week, listening to my book, I think that’s what prompted me to make sure my final weeks of librarianship would have a bit more impact than that! I’ve thrown myself back into tracking down music by BIPOC composers, and it certainly passes the time more quickly than other tasks I could mention!
My aim is simply to make it possible for students to find more diverse repertoire, should they feel so inclined. My efforts won’t result in a massive listing – there are less than a thousand such items tagged in our catalogue, and our budget isn’t huge. It’s not just about getting the materials in – but I won’t be the one devising ways to get it known about and borrowed, after 28 June 2024.
Yesterday, a highlight was discovering one particular new acquisition was already on loan to a second borrower. Result! That in library terms, is impact.
And Impactful Research
As for slow productivity? I need to finish reading Newport’s book and then consider how to apply the best suggestions to a semi-retired existence. At the time I’m posting this, it’s a Wednesday, and I have my research hat on. I have a book review to do, and then I’ll look at my list of projects … because I’m not retiring from research! Far from it.
Coincidentally, a Twitter contact shared the perfect picture – a chained book at a church in Broughton, Bucks. When I think of myself being ‘unshackled from the shelves’, this is precisely the mental picture that comes into my mind! Irreverently, I’m ashamed to admit that the mental picture has a soundtrack: it’s accompanied by a line from a hymn, ‘And can it be?’ In my own defence, hymns have been a large part of my life, and I shall in all probability write a few more myself in retirement, so it’s hardly surprising that this line pops into my head!
My chains fell off, my heart was free …
Making Memories
Friday’s concert programme at RCS
The past week saw me attending two lunchtime concerts – the Strings Department on Monday, and a chamber music concert (two substantial pieces by Dohnanyi and Brahms) on Friday. I wasn’t familiar with the Dohnanyi, but it was a lovely discovery.
Another day, I had tea and a cake at Waterstones – yes, I did buy a book. No surprise there.
Improving Vision
It wasn’t all fun and merriment this week: I had a check-up at the eye department on Thursday. ‘Slow progress’ is certainly still progress, so I’m trying to feel positive about this qualified good news. But ‘fantastic, wonderful progress’ would have been more uplifting … I’m just glad the other eye more than compensates.
Vision for the Future: BIPOC composers
And on Friday, I got back to my efforts in taking steps to increase our coverage of music by historically under-represented composers. More about that in a later posting.
Chained book photo courtesy of Steve, @portaspeciosa, with thanks
Do you remember the old family memory game, ‘I packed my bag, and in it I put ….’ Each successive person has to remember the list, and add something else.
Today, I both literally and metaphorically packed my bag. At the end of the working day, I took home my thick lever-arch file containing Stationers’ Hall research notes. It used to live in the research lab until it ceased to be a working space for staff researchers. Then it had an honoured shelf behind my desk in the library. Then my desk moved to another office, I got a smaller desk in the new office, and lost all but one of my shelves. It’s time for my research notes to go home, one file at a time. Research is something that often lends itself to working from home, though I don’t know where I’ll put the extra files!
Mondays at One: Strings
Since this is a memory game – I also attended a lunchtime concert of the Strings Department, to give myself some more enjoyable memories of my final weeks as a librarian. I heard a fabulous piece by Schnittke for violin and accordion (Suite in the Old Style, op.80); Beethoven’s Piano Trio, op.70 no.2 and Suk’s Piano Trio, op.2. Unfortunately, I had to get back to work after my lunchbreak, so I missed Bartok, more Suk and – sadly – Mancini’s Pink Panther. Ah, well. I did gather some pleasant memories, and I hope I get to hear that Schnittke again in that setting one day. It really was lovely! The original violin and piano piece is very charming, but it was even nicer with accordion instead of piano.
Post Script.
Today’s treat was lunch and a book at Waterstone’s. Research files have all gone home. Bookshelves empty and desk surface clear. (Should I go now?!)
I’m only semi-retiring; I’m leaving the main part of my job, but turning the research secondment into a new part-time contract. The technicalities are one thing: fill in the appropriate forms for receiving your pension. Decide what to do about outstanding holiday entitlement. Set things in motion for a new contract. Wait. Start counting the weeks, and then the days. Wait some more.
As I said in an earlier post, you can try to inject a few fun things into lunch-breaks, to brighten up the days. (I’m grateful to work in a place where there are loads of performances going on.) Meanwhile, you’re still at work in the old job. You know, and everyone else knows, that in a couple of months you won’t be there. In my unrealistic mind, I’d hoped to go out in a blaze of glory, but I don’t feel glorious or triumphant at all. How are you supposed to FEEL?, I asked a considerably older friend. They looked at me in a way that said they’d never asked themselves that!
Clearing Clutter (and Treasures)
I sit cataloguing donations and glumly eyeing piles that everyone would like to be cleared out of the way before I clear off! A late night email (which I found the next day) seemed to hint at that. But if I haven’t cleared the piles of donations by now, working steadily, then am I reasonably going to get the whole lot out of the way in two months? Am I not working hard enough? It’s a bit depressing, actually. On the other hand, when I arrived in 1988, there was a half a rolling stack full of donated materials. I used to wonder if I’d still be needed once I’d catalogued them all. Of course, they were all dealt with decades ago. None of our donations are remotely that old; there aren’t nearly as many; and no, I wasn’t discarded when the original donations were all done and dusted! Maybe it’s unrealistic to expect a final, purging blitz on what’s there now. Leave something for my successors.
Occasionally I get over-excited about treasures that crop up amongst the more routine stuff. (Over 200 years old? How could I NOT be excited?! One of the joys of having two parallel careers is having research knowledge that illuminates historical library materials. Sharing that knowledge sufficiently so that everyone else is aware of the treasures – that’s another thing entirely. Who wants to be trapped by an old librarian keen to share stories about ancient scores and famous poets?)
Am I a Blot on the Landscape?
Busy things happen all around me, and I just go on cataloguing. Answering queries too, obviously – one of the best bits of the job. My departure will probably be a breath of fresh air for the department, making room for new ideas.
The Paranoia about Becoming Irrelevant – ‘Yesterday’s News?’
I feel distinctly old as I walk past our ever-younger readers, to get to the office. Do people whisper behind their hands that I surely must be past it by now?
I’ve been keeping a ‘handover document’ for almost a year now, and every so often I think of something to add to it. Often things occur to me after I’ve had to deal with something, and realise that maybe it needs noting down! ‘It won’t be your concern in a few weeks’, my older spouse tells me. It’s hard adjusting to the certainty that things will be done differently once I’m gone. Things that I think should be done one way, will assuredly be done differently, and that’s to be expected. Even the things that I value aren’t necessarily of the same value to other folk – that’s the hard bit! (Mind you, some of the things I value have historical AND monetary value. My valued things aren’t valued without good reason.)
On the plus side, of course, is my list of research things to investigate, calls for papers and articles and chapters. I haven’t run out of steam, intellectually – far from it. My second book about to commence the copy-editing process. A research paper to write for a conference in July. New adventures on the horizon – oh, I really can’t wait for some new adventures! (I’m not a dull cataloguer – I’ve just ended up backed into a wee cataloguing corner. Neither does everyone find cataloguing tedious, but I have really done too much of it!)
You get lots of advice about how to write a CV, how to start your career with a flourish, how to make your mark. How to get on in the world. How to progress. But it seems there’s little advice about how to gracefully bow out!
This isn’t something unique to me – retirals happen all the time. What do other people do? Do you set up appointments to say goodbye to people? (Hard, when I’ll still be around, albeit in a different department.) Do you try to set up one last workshop/seminar/whatever before you go? Or just try to be inconspicuous until the Last Day arrives?!
We’ve got several things by Nathan Holder, in the Whittaker Library. Indeed, I even helped arrange for Nate to give an Exchange Talk at RCS a couple of years ago. So, when his latest book was published – based on a poem with the same title, that he wrote in June 2020 after George Floyd’s murder in Minneapolis – I knew we had to get a copy! It was ordered immediately.
The book arrived today, and I’ve catalogued it already. I want to read it! However, I’m not the first in the queue. There was nothing for it – I’ve ordered my own personal copy. I’ll write about it once I’ve read it.
I only have to get through another eight weeks (and one of those is holiday) before I cease to be a librarian. Strangely enough, when there’s a thin chink of light through the slowly opening door, the frustrations of the job seem all the more irritating!
The Pressure to Get Things Done
For example, I’ve been ploughing through a pile of cello music needing cataloguing, and was feeling at least content that the pile was shrinking – when another big pile appeared uninvited beside me. Did you hear the silent scream?
‘We want to squeeze the most we can out of you’, came the joking comment the other week. (It was a joke, I hope!) I feel like a tube of toothpaste. (At least the McAulay is just retiring, to focus on research activities – unlike the empty tube of Macleans, destined for the bin!)
Time for tea yet?!
But this afternoon, continuing to catalogue jazz CDs (I’ve done nearly two thousand in recent years) was enough to drive me almost round the bend. It’s so repetitive, like being on a factory production line – there’s absolutely no creativity in it, and very little job satisfaction! What’s more, peering at the tiny print on the back of the CDs is not easy at the best of times. It’s even worse when my left eye is doing much of the work of the right one whilst it recovers from surgery. Both eyes end up dry and sore, to add to the tedium of the task itself. And then, when I glumly reflect on how little CDs get used these days…
To make things a bit better, I’m trying to come up with fun things that I can inject into the routine of my final few weeks. In recent weeks, I’ve given a NAG (National Acquisitions Group) webinar; attended the Books and Borrowing Database launch; given the Transformations lecture; and there will hopefully be a workshop at the end of this month.
I’m also managing to get to a few lunchtime concerts, to brighten things up a bit more. This week, we’ve had the ‘PLUG’ festival of new student compositions, so on Monday I went to a thoroughly enjoyable concert of music for accordion-plus-one (or two or three) other instruments. Friday, I’ve got a ticket for another concert with a professional ensemble.
I’m racking my brains for other enjoyable activities, but there are limits to what I can come up with! Any sensible suggestions gratefully accepted …?
For a number of years, I’ve given an annual talk to RCS students, about how different generations looked upon, collated and collected and published Scottish songs and tunes. The snappy, official title is ‘Transformations’, but when I was revising it for this year’s presentation, I decided to compile a list of all the people (and a few extra titles) that I would be mentioning. Forty of them! So, I’ve added a new, unofficial subtitle: Speed-Dating 40 Scottish Music Collectors in an Hour. Okay, not exacty forty people, but forty lines in the list. I was quite surprised. I would imagine the individuals themselves might have raised an eyebrow, too.
It was the last time I’d give a lecture as a Performing Arts Librarian. Admittedly, not the last time I hope to give a lecture as a researcher, but certainly the final one with a library hat on! The librarian accordingly played a tiny bit of Beethoven’s Johnnie Cope from memory, along with a few chords from Marjory Kennedy-Fraser’s Sleeps the Noon in the Deep Blue Sky (score open), and blithely announced that she saw no need to inflict her rendition of Debussy’s La Cathedrale Engloutie upon her audience for comparison.
More than anything, the lecture epitomises me as a hybrid. I’m a librarian – I acquire and curate these resources. As a scholar, I contextualise them into cultural history. It wouldn’t be the same talk if I occupied only one of these roles.
The subject of my forthcoming monograph – amateur music making and Scottish national identity – only actually got a brief mention. But it was there. Maybe I’ll need to do a more extensive revision at some point!
Friday was a great day. Or should I say, Friday afternoon was a great afternoon?
A short research visit to the Mitchell Library was followed by discussion of my forthcoming RCS research contract – to enable me to continue researching part-time after I leave the library – followed by a trip to Glasgow Uni for the launch of the Books and Borrowing Database. It’s a fantastic resource, and I’ve watched the project with interest. (website: https://borrowing.stir.ac.uk/)
A bit of networking over a glass of wine and some cheese straws, then I headed home with a distinct lightness in my step. It wasn’t just the glass of wine! I felt as though I’m finally adjusting myself into who I’m meant to be.
I like to think I’ve been a good librarian. I do believe I have. But if I am honest, I chose librarianship because I couldn’t see myself as an academic. I am an object lesson in not writing oneself off at the age of twenty-four. If you’re like I was, or you know someone like I was, tell yourself/them to have more self-belief.
I’m giving my annual lecture on Scottish song books tomorrow. Just shows that I can lecture. Indeed, I’ve read countless papers over the past two decades.
Just think how many books I needn’t have catalogued, if I’d been braver and more determined at twenty-four. (I’m still cataloguing them – feeling a bit pressured, if I’m honest!)
On the other hand, how many intriguing enquiries I’d have missed, not to mention unexpected surprises amongst the book and music donations … there have been some advantages.
Image: Wikipedia picture of Hereford Cathedral Chained Library
How could I resist this event?! After all my efforts a few years ago, researching the borrowing of legal deposit music at the University of St Andrews in the early 19th century, I simply HAVE to attend this. It’s somewhat ‘meta’ for a scholar librarian to take a research interest in the borrowing habits of readers who ‘checked out’ centuries ago, isn’t it?
I’ve rearranged my research hours accordingly, so I can finish the week on a research rather than a librarianly note:-
Karen McAulay, Musicologist 