Marimba Test Sounds Out Team-Building
FOR THE RECORD: 10-15-99; ID Credit wrong: A photo in Sunday’s Close to Home column was incorrectly credited. The picture was taken by Donna Patterson.
A marimba mallet in each hand endowed me with a great sense of responsibility last weekend and reminded me how much I need other people.
And, as if those lessons weren’t enough, I had a blast learning to play those wooden xylophones I’d lusted to pound on for years.
It all happened because Steve and Jan Meyer invited me to help test-drive their new team-building-through-marimbas program.
You may remember Jan and Steve as owners of The Bookseller in downtown Coeur d’Alene. They closed their cozy bookstore last spring after 26 years in business.
Since 1991, the Meyers have played in Coeurimba, a marimba ensemble well-known in the region for beating out African musical rhythms that feet can’t resist.
Six years ago, the Meyers responded to the longing looks from kids at the concerts by offering lessons - six weeks of arm-swinging, foot-tapping bliss.
Last year, the Meyers started adult lessons - and those led to their new venture, Sound Results.
Linda Maxwell Silva, North Idaho College’s director of professional development, was one of their first adult students.
She was struck by Jan’s obvious talent for teaching and how successful she made her students feel.
“She could take a very diverse group of people and build a sense of team,” Linda says. “A synergy was created, and that’s exactly what you want to happen in the workplace because that’s when productivity and energy are high.”
Team building is big right now.
Death-defying ropes courses kicked it off a decade or so ago. Since then, everything from juggling to paintball has been pitched as the answer to office bonding.
Linda believed the Meyers had a unique approach and helped them create a plan to take to the corporate world.
“Marimbas aren’t life-threatening,” Jan says. “People build a different bond through the creative process.”
They reasoned that most people haven’t played a marimba, so co-workers participating in a workshop would arrive as equals. Each person would have to master an individual part before the whole would sound right.
No one would lead, but naturally skilled players would learn more difficult parts. Everyone’s role is important, which would lead to self-appreciation as well as appreciation for co-workers.
Most importantly, it’s fun - and co-workers need to have fun together.
Before courting clients, the Meyers decided a test run was wise. They gathered nine willing friends and acquaintances and stuck name tags on us.
We represented every generation but Y. There were seven women and two men. Jan opened with a simple clapping exercise, then waved us toward the marimbas.
The smaller soprano instruments, at which players sat, were claimed first. The hulking bass marimba with keys the size of stairs looked like serious fun to me. It requires the player to stand on a platform.
Unlike kids, we didn’t grab the mallets and make as much noise as possible. Only massage therapist Pam Davies was uninhibited enough to start pounding out rhythms as everyone settled into place.
As Jan, Steve and Jeremy Smith began tapping out our individual tunes, we leaned into our instruments trying to memorize the moves, feel the rhythms, separate our parts from all the others.
For an hour, the room was filled with a mellow cacophony. Everyone but me played chords and stayed relatively close to the keyboards.
The right and left hands go different directions on the bass. The mallets are big and bounce enough to merit a healthy swing between notes.
The physical demand combined with the necessary concentration quickly chased away my shyness. I was in marimba heaven.
By the second hour, we could play together. We relaxed after Jan explained that the blend of music from nine marimbas effectively covers up most mistakes. Most, but not those from the bass.
The bass is so deep and resounding that it naturally keeps the beat.
My sense of responsibility ballooned as other players glanced my way when they were lost. These people needed me. And I needed them; my rhythmic thud was dull without their melody.
The experience was different but just as rewarding for Michelle Britton. She’s the director of the state Department of Health and Welfare’s regional office in Coeur d’Alene, and supervises dozens of people.
“I was not the leader at marimbas. I was a follower, and that was intimidating for me,” she says. “It was a good place for me to be in to realize how my staff feels.”
The test run satisfied the Meyers.
“It was exciting to see the group come together,” Jan says.
They’ll float Sound Results into the marketplace this fall. I’m thinking it’s a good time for my office to consider bonding.