Blind Musician Research Articles

Нижегородская легенда о В. Г. Короленко: полифония мифа и контекста

In the article the author researches social and communicative image of writer – the part of his literary identity. In the focus of attention are origin and features of functioning of Nizhny Novgorod's legend about Korolenko. The author analyzes perception of writer by both general population and literati, for example M. Gorky and S. Yeleonsky. At that time V. Korolenko published anticorruption article in local newspapers, as volunteer helped to fight hunger (1893) and he traveled across region of Nizhny Novgorod. In his literary work he reflected these activities. As well it was a reason, why peasants and the urban poor began to see a “mysterious prince” at him. We found several reasons of prince’s image appearance: 1) surname Korolenko sounds like “korolevich” (prince in Russian), 2) it correlates with actual philosophy of populism and 3) it reflects archetypal conception of just ruler, defending the truth and travelling incognito through his kingdom. As well V. Korolenko himself used the story of the prince errant. For example in the story “The blind musician” the main character Peter explored the world together with blind beggars and as a result he had got psychological transformation. F. Batyushkov the critic compared this scene with the Bible story of “Proud king Haggai”. So the author of this article showed and commented features of writer’s public perception within the framework of literary history and archetypical story. As a result we have an objective view of the perception of Korolenko by his contemporaries and the whole writer’s social role in 1880 – 1890's.

A zero-vision music recording paradigm for visually impaired people

At first glance, making electronic music seems to be a domain which is also well suited for people with limited eye-sight. However, a closer analysis reveals that standard software and hardware are both strongly dominated by graphical output. In order to close this gap for visually impaired musicians, we developed a MIDI (Musical Instrument Digital Interface) sequencer with audio-feedback and a new interaction paradigm which eliminates interaction with the PC's keyboard and screen. The blind musician relies solely on input via the instrument itself. He can both, record and play music via the claviature's black & white keys but at the same time control all functions of a multi-track MIDI sequencer without ever taking the hands off the instrument. We also use the MIDI-connection for coding different kinds of feedback to the user in an efficient way. The software which runs on a PC that is connected to an electronic instrument has been evaluated and improved extensively.

The Last Biwa Singer: A Blind Musician in History, Imagination and Performance (review)

Reviewed by: The Last Biwa Singer: A Blind Musician in History, Imagination and Performance Mathew W. Thompson The Last Biwa Singer: A Blind Musician in History, Imagination and Performance. By Hugh de Ferranti. East Asian Program, Cornell University, 2009. 336 pages. Hardcover $56.00. In the early 1970s there emerged significant academic, media, and public interest in a handful of Kyushu residents who were described as living relics, all that remained of an ancient tradition of biwa (lute) performance that could be traced back to the violence of the twelfth century that ushered in Japan's medieval period. Yamashika Yoshiyuki (1901-1996), the subject of this volume, garnered the most attention and, for reasons concerning the breadth of his repertoire and the uninterrupted nature of his career, eventually became widely known as "the last biwa-hōshi" the last of the blind lute players known for their performances of Heike monogatari (The Tale of the Heike) and their ritualistic placation of the angry ghosts of dead warriors. The title, The Last Biwa Singer, is of course a deliberate reference to labels of this kind, but it is not intended as a statement of fact. It is rather "a characterisation to be understood in light of the array of representations of Yamashika" (p. 13) that emerged in scholarly journals, television, movies, and print after his "discovery." As such, this volume is not a study of Yamashika's life (there are many of these in Japanese) or a formal analysis of the techniques [End Page 439] of his performance. It is an examination of the practices and images from history, folklore, literature, musicology, and popular culture that were brought to bear in order to document, categorize, and construct the identity of both Yamashika and his profession. In particular, author Hugh de Ferranti is concerned with "the appropriateness of characterising a performance tradition through examination of the practice of a prominent individual" (p. 4), an approach that is particularly susceptible to the varied "processes through which ideas of culture and tradition can be 'created' by researchers" (p. 5). The image of Yamashika that emerges from this discussion is a fascinating portrait not of a man but of an idea, a character within our own imaginations. In the end it is hard for the reader not to feel a little sympathy toward this elderly musician who found himself appropriated by so many different narratives. For literature scholars he was the last inheritor of medieval traditions of storytelling; for musicologists he was an often-frustrating test subject for theories of oral performance; for the media he was a living anachronism that could be packaged and sold as a spectacle; and for the urban public he seemed a natural target for the pursuit of pastoral nostalgia. The author, too, does not hesitate in expressing regret over the "inequality of power between Yamashika and all of his interlocutors" (p. 161). One of this volume's greatest strengths, however, is that the author does not allow it to become bogged down in a critique of that inequality. His goal is one of documentation, not judgment. The study is organized to resemble an inward movement through the layers of cultural texts that came to surround Yamashika, toward the records of his words and actions that have been compiled by others—or what Ferranti refers to as the "metaphoric core" of his representations, a term that is repeated throughout the book (see below). Chapter 1, "Images and Histories," provides a general survey of scholarship concerning biwa hōshi and mōsō (blind ritualists that use biwa in performances) and their traditions of storytelling in medieval and early modern Japan, and of the popular images of these icons of the past that emerged in the twentieth century. This exploration of various subjects ranging from blindness and gender to scholarly disagreements concerning guild repertoires and institutional practices is structured by the premise that "if not for the framing concepts of the biwa hōshi and their significance for the development of canonical performed narrative genres, it is doubtful that knowledge of Yamashika would have extended beyond Kumamoto and Kyushu folklorists and historians" (p. 19). The consequences of this confluence of pre-modern...

Hugh de Ferranti. The Last Biwa Singer: A Blind Musician in History, Imagination and Performance. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University, 2009. 320 pp., photographs, maps, musical transcriptions, appendices, bibliography, audiography, videography, index.

Hugh de Ferranti. The Last Biwa Singer: A Blind Musician in History, Imagination and Performance. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University, 2009. 320 pp., photographs, maps, musical transcriptions, appendices, bibliography, audiography, videography, index. - Volume 42

The Apprenticeship of Big Toe P by Rieko Matsuura

WORLD LITERATURE IN REVIEW ^^ ^^^^^ ^H I Salt Ranges of Punjab as well as the reduction of all this expanse into the eccentric and mystical "boxes" that the blind Mehwish makes for each person she encounters. The novel is divided into five chapters or "Gate ways," each containing several sec tions narrated in first person by the four characters, often allowing us to see the same event from all four perspectives, deepening the novel's vertical dimension. We get detailed views of the lives of these characters, and though the novel has a glossary of Urdu terms, this novel does not often need the crutch of cultural or linguistic translation because it is not plot-driven but rather a rich, inward study of four original characters. The novel begins and ends with a fossil dig in the Salt Ranges where Amal, then eight years old, had accompanied Zahoor on the famous dig that unearthed the Pakicetus, a significant event in science for sure, but also an explosive claim in a 1970s Pakistan that was soon to become embroiled in religious fun damentalism. The science-versus faith conflict is primarily staged in the character of the young intellec tual Noman, whose writing talent is claimed by his fundamentalist father to write tirades against science. Noman gradually comes to under stand the mystical unity underlying both worldviews, driven home in no uncertain terms when a fundamen talist shooting and multiple deaths destroy Amal's peaceful marriage ceremony. The gradual and endur ing love story between Noman the "seeker" and the blind Mehwish who has "the sun in her" is a ten der counterpoint to the sociopolitical turmoil that throws the lives of these characters into disarray. Gayatri Devi Lock Haven University of Pennsylvania Rieko Matsuura. The Apprenticeship of Big Toe P. Michael Emmerich, tr. Tokyo / New York. Kodansha Interna tional. 2009. 447 pages. $24.95. isbn 978-4-7700-3116-7 Serialized from 1991 to 1993, Rieko Matsuura's award-winning novel (Women's Literary Award, 1994) explores the twin themes of wom en's sexuality and liberation from conventional sexual norms to the taboo. It challenges the notion that heterosexual union is the only social ly acceptable form of sexual activity and suggests as its alternative "skin ship," sexual intimacy by means of body contact of all sorts. With extensive explorations and descrip tions of the "skinship," this work is littered with sexual body imag es and black humor. The writing, therefore, borders on pornography. Here, the author appears to sug gest that pornography can be help ful for women's sexual liberation. For the delineation of the themes, Matsuura seems to rely on Mikhail Bakhtin's theory of Grotesque Real ism, the core aesthetic of carnival that debases all that is high and lofty down to the level of the masses and gives them a new life amid the crude laughter of a carnival. The narrative opens with a prologue, in which the narrator M introduces Kazumi as a sexually na?ve college student. M informs us that Kazumi, whom she had hardly known, has appeared at her door early one morning to confide in her that her (Kazumi's) big toe has turned into a penis overnight. In the rest of the story Kazu mi, now the first-person narrator, describes her apprenticeship in sex ual pleasure through the fantasy world of "skinship." Her adventure begins with her discovery of self stimulating sex, followed by escape from her boyfriend, who tries to cas trate her newly acquired genital. She then falls in love with, and becomes engaged to, a younger, bisexual man. Kazumi is happy playing the role of a mother to this blind musi cian, who has only a thin sense of subjectivity. The two eventually join "the Flower Show," made up of a group of sexually "deformed peo ple" performing sexual acts for an exclusive audience. They establish a strong bond among themselves and collectively play the role of the trick ster, exposing the absurdity of con ventional male-centered lovemak ing and its dehumanizing effects on marginalized people. Kazumi ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 641 World Literature Today develops a lesbian relationship with one of the members, but the group soon disbands...

“Teaching Blind”

[1] Imagine this-it's a week before the beginning of the school year and you've just been told that a blind student will be in your sophomore theory class. What do you do? In late August 2007, I found myself in this situation. This essay is intended to enable someone in a similar situation to save some time in investigating available technology and in devising methodology. It will focus on teaching blind students, but resources for the visually impaired in general are also included.[2] According to my university's Academic Resource Center, we are required by the 1973 Rehabilitation Act and the 1990 Americans with Disabilities Act to provide reasonable accommodations for students with disabilities.A reasonable accommodation is a modification to a non-essential aspect of a course, program, service or facility which does not pose and [sic] undue burden and which enables a qualified student with a disability to have adequate opportunity to participate and to demonstrate his or her ability.(1)[3] Some schools will provide extensive aid for the purpose of accommodating visually impaired students in the music classroom, including spending a significant amount of money converting textbooks to Braille. My university did not do this, but it did provide excellent peer tutors and guides.[4] The more time one has to prepare for a visually impaired student, the better. Hardware, software, Brailled textbooks and scores need to be ordered ahead of time, tutors need to be found, and teaching aids may need to be constructed. I have found that the more one can think through what the student needs and the best method for providing it, the more successful the teaching experience will be. Whether or not the student comes armed with the latest technology, the teacher should be ready to spend extra time, either preparing class materials or working together one-on-one.[5] Because my student had transferred from another local school, she did not come through our first-year theory class, which would have given me a lot more notice, and I could have drawn upon the experience of my colleagues. Our Academic Resource Center also did not have the experience to help me with any specific music-related accommodations.(2) It turned out that the most information came from colleagues who had encountered the same circumstances. I had sent a message to the SMT-talk discussion group that expressed my predicament:I'd ... welcome any suggestions you might have for helping a blind student in the second year of a two-year theory sequence. She's a transfer student, so I have little information about how things were done at her previous school (more discussion with her is in order). Somehow I need to find ways to do written and aural skills with her. We do have a resource center to help out, but they apparently haven't had to deal with a blind musician before. Any advice would be greatly appreciated!Many responses advised me about types of available resources, and about issues that might arise.(3) This information enabled me to seek out further resources, some of which are contained in Figures 1-4 below.[6] The following discussion will focus on the individual skills usually incorporated into a core music theory curriculum, how I dealt with them with my particular student, and other methods to deal with them.Dictation[7] At first, I gave dictation quizzes to my blind student privately or had her tutor administer them, since she did not have a laptop or other electronic note taker (see Figure 2) to use in class. Had I known about it at the time, a slate and stylus (Figure 1, item 1) could have worked as well. I would play the examples, she would tell me the answers, and I would notate them. After she acquired her laptop, we worked out a method by which she took the quizzes with the rest of the class. She does not read Braille music notation,(4) so we used a system by which she notated the pitches and rhythms separately in two different lines. …

Neural correlates of absolute pitch differ between blind and sighted musicians

Several reports have indicated a higher incidence of absolute pitch in blind than in sighted musicians. Employing a pitch memory task, we examined whether a blind absolute pitch musician would rely on different neural correlates than a group of sighted absolute pitch musicians. The blind musician showed significantly more activation of bihemispheric visual association areas, lingual gyrus, parietal and frontal areas than the sighted musicians. Sighted musicians showed more activation of the right primary auditory cortex and the cerebellum when compared with the blind musician. These differences in the activation pattern suggest the use of a different neural network including visual association areas while performing pitch categorization and identification in this blind musician in comparison with sighted musicians.

The Koto: A Traditional Instrument in Contemporary Japan (review)

Reviewed by: The Koto: A Traditional Instrument in Contemporary Japan Philip Flavin (bio) The Koto: A Traditional Instrument in Contemporary Japan. Henry Johnson. Amsterdam: Hotei Publishing, 2004. 199 pp. ISBN: 90-74822-63-0. Images: 108 full-color & black-and-white illustrations, 19 tables. Price: £50/US$78.50. After a woefully long absence of new scholarly works in English on Japanese music, particularly on music for the koto, Henry Johnson's The Koto: A Traditional Instrument in Contemporary Japan is a welcome addition to the present literature in Western languages. The book is particularly welcome as the author has taken a novel approach to the koto, and in doing so provided a wealth of information not readily available in English. The novelty of Johnson's approach is to examine the koto as an object of Japanese [End Page 127] music material culture. The three major koto types are discussed; nonetheless, the author's primary interest and the focus of the book is the zokusô, the koto of the Edo period (1600–1867) and sôkyoku-jiuta. There is therefore no music analysis and very little discussion of the different sôkyoku genres. Instead, the author takes three ethnographic approaches to understanding the koto: the first is an analysis of the form or shape of the instrument, the second an analysis of performance traditions, and the third an analysis of the performance context. Thus, after the first chapter, which presents a basic history of the koto and argues for the instrument being imbued with cultural and historical significance, each of the central chapters of the book examines the koto through one of the aforementioned analytical approaches. For the first analytical lens, Chapter 2 presents an important review of the different terms used in discussions of the koto. Following this is a beautifully illustrated historical overview of the gakusô (the gagaku koto), the chikusô (the koto of Tsukushi-goto), and the instruments of the zokusô traditions, primarily the Ikuta-goto and the Yamada-goto. The author outlines both the changes that have taken place in the construction of the instrument and the social contexts for each of the three types of koto. Also included is an invaluable history of the early experiments in creating differently sized koto (soprano, alto, 17-stringed bass, and others) undertaken during the early twentieth century with the New Japanese Movement and figures such as Miyagi Michio. There is also a detailed examination of the instrument's subclassifications and the differences in the decorations used by manufacturers to distinguish the various levels of instrument quality. In arguing for the koto being an instrument imbued with multiple layers of cultural significance, Chapter 3 continues the exploration of the koto through the same analytical lens as the preceding chapter. There is an exquisitely detailed discussion of the manufacturing process of the koto and the aesthetic judgments made in determining the different grades of instrument, from student models to instruments used by professional musicians. For those with organological tendencies, the chapter is replete with photographs showing the different stages in the construction of the instrument. The sheer amount of information Johnson provides, from the nomenclature used to indicate the different parts of the koto to the type of brocade placed under the strings at the end of the koto or the differences in plectra used by the different traditions, is extraordinary, and the chapter is a treasure trove of information. In Chapter 4 Johnson traces the development of the koto as a traditional Japanese instrument from its position within different social contexts. He thus touches upon the various groups—from the Heian-period aristocracy through the Edo-period blind musician's guild—that maintained and performed the [End Page 128] koto, and also discusses the geographical distribution of the instrument. This chapter provides valuable insights to the social structure of the present-day groups that developed out of the Edo-period traditions, their licensing systems, and the practice of artistic names that are such a fixture in the Japanese arts. This is in turn accompanied with an equally indispensable section that provides definitions and explanations of the fundamental terminology used in any discussion of the Japanese performing arts and their...

Disability Bias in Children's Literature

Disability Bias in Children's Literature Ellen Rubin (bio) and Emily Strauss Watson (bio) Our article will address a subject that is somewhat less recognized than others usually discussed in the forum of minority issues in children's literature—namely disability bias. By disability bias, we refer to the attitudes and practices that lead to unequal and unjust portrayals of people with disabilities in children's literature. Some writers and publishers have taken steps to eliminate racial and ethnic stereotypes from children's literature as well as removing the limiting effects of sex role stereotyping. Several have tried to eliminate negative images regarding age and class. Educators have come to realize that these kinds of biases limit the growth and development of children. What for the most part has gone unrecognized is that bias and stereotyping on the basis of disability also limit children's potential, and, therefore, this too needs to be addressed from the perspective of writers and publishers, and through a comprehensive re-evaluation of the language and literary style of children's literature. In 1977, The Council for Interracial Books for Children published a landmark issue of their Bulletin on "Handicapism." In it, Douglas Biklen and Robert Bogdan presented an analysis of children's literature as it relates to the portrayal of people with disabilities. In this piece, the authors describe 10 common stereotypes associated with the portrayal of people with disabilities. (Note: The eleventh stereotype is one that the current authors have commonly noted but was not included in the Biklen and Bogdan piece.) The stereotypes cited were: 1. Person with a disability portrayed as pitiable and pathetic. This image is one widely touted and perpetuated by charity drives and telethons. It is also a stereotype that widely exists in classical as well as modern children's literature. Tiny Tim in A Christmas Carol is such an example. 2. Person with a disability as the object of violence. Since a "handicapped person" must be incapable of defending his/her own self, we become perfect ploys or victims of crime. Of Mice and Men shows an example of this stereotype. 3. Person with a disability as sinister and/or evil. This may be the most historically prevalent stereotype ranging from fairy tales with [End Page 60] stooped witches who use canes to hunched-back kings. Captain Hook in Peter Pan is a classic example. 4. Person with a disability used as "atmosphere." Basically undeveloped as characters, persons with disabilities are often peripheral to the main action, perhaps as a blind musician or amputee beggar. The mentally retarded brother in Betsy Byar's Summer of the Swans serves merely as such a prop. 5. Person with a disability as "super crip." All too often, in order to be accepted both in children's literature and in real life, people with disabilities are put in positions of being over-achievers. Thus, people with disabilities are thought to be endowed with super powers, ranging from the paraplegic detective, Ironside, to social activist, Helen Keller. 6. Person with a disability as laughable. Just as there are ethnic jokes, so too have the media and children's literature made frequent use of this ploy as a gimmick to facilitate the plot. For example, the person who is visually impaired becomes the brunt of many jokes and pranks. This is a particularly insensitive portrayal of people with disabilities. 7. Person with a disability as his/her own—and only—worst enemy. This is the popular portrayal of the self-pitying person with a disability who could "make it" if only he or she would shed a cloak of bitterness. Such portrayals deny the reality of architectural, communicational, and attitudinal barriers which legitimately interfere with the true acceptance. Clara in Heidi is such an example. 8. Person with a disability as a burden. Burdens imply something to be gotten rid of, hence portraying people with disabilities as burdens in society objectifies, dehumanizes, and negates the values and contributions of people with disabilities. A prime example in this category is Laura in A Glass Menagerie. 9. Person with a disability as asexual. Simply stated, people with disabilities are very rarely presented in caring or...

On“Jinkeisho”

Jinkeisho is a literary work of as many as 500 sheets of paper, consisting of 11 Chapters in 11 Volumes, appeared in the Muromachi Period. But, to our regret, very few theses have ever been written on this subject.Examining its contents, I found that it had been written in 1482 with a few additional descriptions given sometime before 1500 AD. Though the name of author is unknown, it is pretty sure that he was a recluse Buddhist priest of noble origin, who had devoted himself to his lessons from his youth, had once been in the service of the Imperial Court, but had resigned from his position for some reasons, and after wandering about from place to place for years, lastly had settled in a thatched hut near Miyako (ancient capital in Kyoto). This literary work is composed of the following story, told by a Zato (a blind musician) who, coming up to Miyako a long way from Oshu (the North-Eastern part of Japan), took a lodging for the night in the hut, and was put on record by the author, the said Buddhist priest.Once there lived two young men, named Hanawaka and Tamawaka, in one of the Hieizan Buddhist temples, and they were working hard at their lessons. Hanawaka was a descendant of the Genji family, who were residing in Ashikaga in Kanto district, Tamawaka was a descendant of the Heike family, who were residing in Dazaifu in Kyushu Island, and their mentor, the head priest was descended from the Fujiwara family. These three characters reciprocally tell about Buddhism, successive Emperors and Shoguns, literary works such as waka (31-syllable Japanese poems), renga (linked poems), Monogatari (novels in the Heian and Muromachi Period), and performing arts, etc. These accounts amount to more than 80 per cent of all the contents, and therefore, it may safely be said that Jinkeisho has something of the encyclopedia in its nature. At last Tamawaka was seized with an illness and died. The head priest and Hanawaka were very much grieved at his death and held a memorial service most warmly. Soon after that, however, the head priest also passed away. Being left behind them alone, Hanawaka made up his mind to become a Buddhist priest, shaving off his hair. It is told that he left Hieizan and, after devoting himself for years to Buddhism, died a peaceful death.The above is the outline of Jinkeisho, and so it can be said to be a kind of modification of Chigomonogatari (temple page story). It is also quite a noteworthy fact that Jinkeisho gives an example of the typical way of telling a story in those days (the Muromachi Period) to introduce historical allusions and knowledges in it. We can also find out, in the accounts given by the said three characters, the special narratives which explain how Taketori-no-Okina (an old bamboo cutter) legend and Genji-monogatari (the Tale of Genji) came into existence. Thus, I conclude that Jinkeisho is a particular literary work which furnishes important materials for the study of legend and narrative literature.

The Legend of Semimaru: Blind Musician of Japan

The Legend of Semimaru: Blind Musician of Japan

The Legend of Semimaru: Blind Musician of Japan

The Legend of Semimaru: Blind Musician of Japan

The Legend of Semimaru: Blind Musician of Japan

The Legend of Semimaru: Blind Musician of Japan

The Legend of Semimaru, Blind Musician of Japan.

The Legend of Semimaru, Blind Musician of Japan.

Analysis of a Congenitally Blind Musician

During the last two decades the unique developmental difficulties of blind children have been the source of important psychoanalytic investigations and have enriched our clinical and theoretical understanding of the ego in both sighted and blind children. In this paper I describe insight gained from the analysis of a congenitally blind musician.

Teaching the Blind Musician

Teaching the Blind Musician

An Invitation to Excellence

I ADDRESS myself to the invalid physician. Of all the oddities of existence, the one-armed golfer, the one-legged skier, the blind and deaf musician, none perhaps seems quite so anomalous as the chronically ill physician. Yet large numbers of these fellows exist. Many are drawn into medicine by their infirmity; they expect to be the mechanism of their own deliverance, they hope to help others with similar troubles, but largely, I suspect, the motive is one of empathy for the suffering—a oneness with the patient which cannot be taught in medical school nor be learned by even constant effort in clinical medicine. The completion of a medical curriculum is physically taxing under optimal conditions of health; to choose this path when health is compromised is to set for oneself an arduous struggle. Yet to balance this, there necessarily exists a certain drive and spark lacking in the average student. The

An Answer to the Blind Musician's Plight

An Answer to the Blind Musician's Plight

How to be Eyes for the Blind Musician

How to be Eyes for the Blind Musician

Sight Reading by the Blind

RECALL distinctly how, 'way back when I was a pupil in the Illinois School for the Blind, I envied the advantage possessed by a certain musical chap who played a valve trombone in our band. At rehearsals he occupied a chair just behind me and my squalling clarinet. When the rest of us forgot or fell down on our parts, with a dismal frazzling out of the would-be ensemble, he would continue to toot his notes precisely until stopped by the blind director. The latter wellmeaning gentleman would then chide us for not knowing our music so well as Fred, the trombonist. The assignment to be memorized from our Braille score was usually not overly taxing. At first we didn't understand the chuckle which came from the trombone so close behind One day, however, we discovered that Fred, with his instrument perched on his knee, fingered the valves with one hand and read his notes with the other. By being able to read, this rascal, without sight, literally stole marches on his blind companions. It happens that I am now in charge of the Braille library of music in the same school. Now and then a pupil comes to me for, say, a nocturne whose key or composer he has for the moment forgotten. I draw several nocturnes from the shelves and occasionally the pupil, glancing over them with his fingers will say, This is the one my teacher played over for me. Not long ago I sat as a visitor in the chapel of L'Institution des Jeunes Aveugles, Paris, and observed the training of a choir by the distinguished blind musician, M. Marty. Each of the singers read from a Braille score, and I shall never forget with what precision the class responded to the master's direction. I remember my beginning to doubt that they were actually reading-they sang so beautifully-when suddenly I was convinced by the quick turning of all the Braille pages. The miraculous thing was happening; the blind were sight singing. In the same school, as in several others, the organist candidates for church positions are trained to read the chant melodies with one hand, and play the simple accompaniments with the other hand and the pedals. The world over, teachers of music who art without sight are able, through the use of embossed music, to follow their pupils as they play their assignments.