More than just notes: discovering the power of music for well-being

 

If we take a moment to reflect on our daily conversations or social media, we will notice how people today are far more concerned with their wellbeing than they were a decade ago. This growing focus on wellbeing is probably due to a confluence of factors like increased mental health challenges, and feelings of loneliness and isolation coinciding with the rise of social media. I also have my own perspective on wellbeing, and if there is one thing I wish to champion to improve people’s lives, it is music.

My personal journey of music and wellbeing began with my childhood experiences. Some of my earliest memories are closely tied to music lessons at home. My mother was a piano teacher when I was young and as a toddler, I remember standing beside her at home, watching as she taught her students. One day, I asked her to teach me the piano. She played a few bars from a beginner’s book to demonstrate, and I was able to play the piece effortlessly after her example. On reflection, the most striking part was how natural it felt. Children are not self-conscious or shy to perform by nature.

Beyond learning piano from my mother at home, church was another cornerstone in my musical development. As my parents are devoted believers, I started attending church services in my mother’s womb. By primary school age, I sang in the children’s choir and played piano for Sunday school. To this day, rehearsing with other choir members remains among my fondest memories: reading and singing in different keys, observing how other children sang, mastering harmonies, and working on challenging passages under the direction of our talented music director who was strict and humorous in equal measure. Around the same time, I began learning the cello and music became my lifelong companion.

My family moved to the UK towards the end of my primary schooling. Adapting to life in a foreign country was never easy for me. Language barriers, cultural differences, and my introverted character all contributed to a significant sense of isolation. Amid these challenges, music saved me. It became the thread that wove me into the fabric of my new environment.

My secondary school in the UK had a vibrant music department, and although I considered my cello skills modest, the school was impressed by my abilities. I was invited to play cello in various school ensembles, including chamber groups and orchestras. Fellow musicians welcomed my participation, and both teachers and students associated me with music. Their friendliness made me feel valued and included. Music provided me with a sense of belonging and an identity that bridged the gap between myself and others.

Alongside my school studies, I continued to develop my musical knowledge and skills in piano and cello through private lessons. I was fortunate to encounter two passionate private teachers whose guidance deepened my understanding and appreciation of music. Through their example, I learned that enjoying the moment with music is far more important than passing graded examinations. Encouraged by my parents and teachers, I was among the few at my school to take GCSE and A-level Music. I also joined the Junior Department of the Royal College of Music in London. These were the years when I could truly explore the world of music, relatively carefree.

Music was the natural choice when I applied to study at university and I was accepted at Cambridge University. Little did I know, Music at Cambridge is one of the most academic degrees in music, focusing on history, analysis, and niche academic topics, not just musical performance or composition. Very soon, I found myself uninterested in studying music in such a scholarly way. Reading dense books and writing weekly essays in musicology was not my cup of tea. Having intellectual discussions about music in supervisions instead of playing or listening to it became a nightmare. Worse still, the gradual build-up of negative associations meant that I had gradually stopped enjoying playing or listening to music. For the first time in my life, I disliked music.

Despite these difficulties, I completed my undergraduate degree. Although my years at Cambridge were tough, classes that explored the human aspects of music intrigued me. I was inspired by studies on how social, cultural and religious factors shape artists and composers and how music is designed to both express and influence the human psyche. My fascination with human culture and psychology grew into a passion that would shape my future in ways I could not have foreseen at school.

After Cambridge, I decided to leave music and pursued a master’s degree in Psychology of Education in London. Not wanting my connection with music to be so cruelly discarded, my father encouraged me to include a music course or two in my master’s studies. Motivated by my growing interest in human psychology, I chose a module in the Psychology of Music and Music Education. I even wrote my dissertation on musical engagement and its association with primary schoolers’ academic attainment, motivation, and affect. That paper marked the beginning of my research interest in music and wellbeing.

Returning to Cambridge for my PhD, I sought to understand the deeper connection between music and wellbeing. During my master’s and doctoral studies, I was inspired by musicians-turned-researchers who led the fields of music psychology and music education. The work of leading figures such as Susan Hallam, Lucy Green, and David Hargreaves opened my eyes to the power of music. Inspired by their passion, I wanted to explore how learning and playing music at school could affect students’ psychological wellbeing in my doctoral research.

Under the supervision of my Cambridge professors, I returned to my hometown of Hong Kong to conduct fieldwork in schools for my PhD thesis. By observing the dynamics of musical engagement among secondary schoolers, I identified social and personal conditions that contribute to a positive and motivating experience via the fulfilment of psychological needs for autonomy, achievement, and affection/care.

Autonomy support leads to a positive experience because learners find value in what they do and resonate with their activity, be it improvising with friends in a band or creating music on their computer. An ideal musical activity should also be designed in such a way that participants have the ability and support to master the required tasks. Furthermore, a captivating activity would address the social-emotional needs of participants, enabling them to exchange care and support.

When these conditions are met, individuals are more likely to experience motivation and wellbeing. Conversely, if an activity is carried out against one’s will or leads to feelings of failure, neglect, or conflict, it can negatively affect one’s wellbeing. I find this psychological theory really helps explain why some people thrive in their musical engagement and continue to play music as amateurs if not professionals, while others would stop playing as soon as they reach a certain goal or achievement.

Since joining FLASS in 2023, I have been engaged in various teaching and research projects related to music and wellbeing. One of my research interests is the creation of a “musical third space” in schools—a place where students can rest, connect with inner resources, and engage in social interaction with or without the use of words. This is a space free from the pressures of academic work and family expectations, where participants can express themselves authentically and connect with others. I believe these moments are crucial to children’s and adolescents’ wellbeing.

Today, I still enjoy listening to and playing music. However, my focus has shifted from pure appreciation to exploring music’s potential to promote wellbeing. I see the power of music in building people’s mental resilience, much as physical exercise strengthens the body. I believe everyone can find their own way to enjoy music. Studies show that rhythm and music can increase self-regulation in young children and improve mobility in Parkinson’s disease. I am particularly fascinated by music therapy’s role and efficacy in dementia care, post-stroke rehabilitation, and palliative care. Music is not only an art for performance; it can comfort, provide companionship, activate memories and responses, and help people express themselves at different stages of their lives.

Music can offer solace and hope to those facing profound sorrow. Once, I played Chopin’s “Funeral March” at a funeral and saw the bereaved family members crying even harder during the gentle middle section. At first, I blamed myself for the way I played. Afterwards, one of the family members expressed their gratitude for the comfort my playing brought them. That moment, I realised the music gave the bereaved a channel to express their sorrow. This is the power of music: more than a collection of sounds, it offers empathy and consolation that words alone cannot provide.

My story with music wouldn’t be complete without mentioning my faith. As a Christian, I experience the power of music most profoundly when it meets my faith. Many times, tears well up in my eyes when I sing an old hymn like “Great Is Thy Faithfulness”. This is not unique to me; people at church, from all age groups and backgrounds, whether facing small setbacks or major challenges, experience similar moving moments when singing their favourite hymns. In these moments, we feel united not only by melody and lyrics, but also by something greater than ourselves.

So, did I make the right choice to study Music at Cambridge? I can only say life offers no simple answers. The idyllic backdrop of the river, bridges and classical buildings contrasts starkly with the internal distress and turmoil felt by many students at some point or another inside those beautiful colleges. The experience, however daunting for an anxious youth, comes from periods of light and darkness, both of which are inevitable and serve their purposes in life. Today, I see those trying years as a precious time of self-discovery, and I often miss the beautiful place where I eventually found the courage to forge a new path.

While music still holds a central place in my life, its meaning has evolved. It was once a way to express and enjoy myself. Now, as I study music in other people’s lives, I value even more the deeply personal and enriching aspects of music. Music has shaped who I am. It represents a journey that has helped me develop qualities of listening, introspection, and searching for meaning. While I still enjoy sitting at the piano, working out how best to accompany the church choir, I am now drawn to exploring and promoting the transformative power of music to enhance wellbeing in myself and others. I believe this power can contribute to a more harmonious and flourishing world.

Note: Dr Anna Wong is an Assistant Professor at HPE specialising in the interdisciplinary fields of music, wellbeing, and education. Holding a BA in Music and PhD in Education from the University of Cambridge, her research explores school mental health, healthy ageing, and music’s impact on wellbeing. She has spearheaded school-based projects, including the implementation of music therapy for at-risk students at school and university and the development of “Creating a Musical Third Space” to support student mental health. Dr Wong also created “S.H.I.E.L.D.S.”, a peer-led suicide prevention and mental health promotion programme for secondary students.

(Dr Anna Wong collaborated with Tam Siu-man on this piece.)