understanding of it can offer invaluable insights into the
experiences of those who come to us for therapy.
Survival in the
Workplace
The Strength and Vulnerability
of the Music Therapy
Practitioner
Julie Sutton
It seems a fitting time to take stock of where we have
reached as a profession, after the Oxford conference
period and when the impact of hosting a world congress
has begun to be assimilated. This edition of the Journal
offers two main perspectives of the current state of
music therapy in the UK. The final interview in the
Historical Perspectives series gives us the chance to look
at ourselves through the eyes of someone who is both
outside and inside the profession and who has a
knowledge of many details of the administration of UK
music therapy that few of us have. This perspective is
given by Diana Asbridge, who has worked for the
Association of Professional Music Therapists from its
earliest days and alongside many of our pioneer
colleagues. Another, less often acknowledged view of
our work forms the main focus of the Journal. The
central theme of this edition relates to the deep impact
that our jobs might have upon us and how we take care
of ourselves in the work. This is an important and
significant matter for therapists and although written
about in other disciplines has been almost neglected in
our own literature.
We are obviously aware that a great deal of our work
involves negotiated communication through the
medium of music, yet it is this very medium that adds to
our workload in ways that we may not always be
conscious of. As Alison Levinge notes in the second
article in this publication: ' ... the nature of music is such
that it has a capacity to by-pass defences, and therefore
become a medium which can resonate in a direct or
immediate way with the more unconscious aspects of
ourselves'. As clinicians we are vulnerable to this
quality of music, yet we also know that our
62 British Journal of Music Therapy • Volume 16 • No 2 2002
Working within a profession that can affect the
practitioner at the unconscious level (both musically
and in terms of the nature of relationships between
therapists and clients) requires a stable support system,
which should be twofold - for the profession as a whole,
and at the individual level for each working therapist.
Where does the UK fit in the broader context of
support systems in other European countries? With the
more recent developments of UK state registration and
the new Continuing Professional Development (CPO)
scheme, important issues arise, relating to standards of
ethical and professional practice and support for
practising therapists. In terms of music therapy in
Europe, we are well-placed to provide a good-enough
model for supporting the practice and development of
music therapists. Firstly, we offer therapy to those
undertaking training and this is also the case for courses
in other countries (such as those in Germany,
Switzerland, Norway and Be lqiurn"). Additionally,
clinical supervision is given during training and is
recommended throughout a therapist's working life.
Sweden and the UK provide supervision training, with
the UK post-qualification supervision scheme viewed as
a model of good practice that other countries could
adopt. So we have an adequate, working system of
safeguarding the work that we do with our clients. Our
CPO scheme adds weight to the idea that, as well as
needing to keep ourselves informed of current thinking
and new developments and aware of the importance of
maintaining an inquiring as well as reflective attitude,
therapists also need support in their clinical practice.
Just over two years ago, Stewart discovered that
music therapists' sense of fulfilment largely depended
on a range of these kinds of support networks (Stewart
2000). Surprisingly, this was the first published material
dealing with this important issue, and it suggested a
range of underlying factors relating to how easily
therapists could avail of support. Clearly, an amount of
energy and some conscious effort is required in making
use of the available support networks. It is an easier task
for those working within arts therapy departments (or
based in areas near to other registered practitioners)
than for those who are geographically isolated. Yet,
while maintaining a support network can be a draining
addition to our clinical week, we fail to acknowledge
our need for support at our peri I. It would be too easy to
forget that what goes on in the therapy room has a
personal impact upon us, and if unaddressed this impact
can have a cumulative effect over time. Recently, Bunt
and Hoskyns have stated:
-- ------------------------ --- - - - - ------ ---- - -
'Information obtained from a Roundtable Presentation given to the
European Music Therapy Confederation by Chava Sekeles, Oxford, 23
July 2002.
 Patients with their unique range of musical
behaviours and problems come to therapy where
they interact with therapists who in turn have to
balance their own music and personalities, including
their own blind spots, in order to attend a therapeutic
process and take part injourneys with their patients.
(Bunt & Hoskyns 2002: 52)
This sentence uncovers part of the complex set of
interrelated processes going on during a therapy session,
as well as the real and powerful impact of this upon the
therapist. I am reminded particularly of the words of the
Jungian analyst David Sedgewick:
It is ... inevitable that the therapist working via
himself will bring his whole self to the treatment.
Needs must be known, fulfilled elsewhere if possible,
or sometimes sacrificed. This is not fun.
(Sedgewick 1994: 147)
As Sedgewick has noted, in making ourselves available
to our clients, it is vital that we make use of self-insight,
because we clinicians are as much engaged in the
clinical process as our clients. This is hard work, but
making this process a more conscious part of our day is
one way of safeguarding our ethical, professional and
personal responsibility inside and outside of the therapy
room. Yet I wonder how far down this path we really are
as a profession? While our colleagues in analytical work
converse and write in detail about this personal impact
of sitting with clients in the therapy room, the area has
been less often touched upon in depth in music therapy
literature.
However, the personal narrative that Sedgewick
wrote about is now beginning to appear in more recent
publications. Bunt and Hoskyns (2002) for instance used
interviews with four well-known music therapists to
contextualise different aspects of training, supervision
and clinical practice. Notably, each of these therapists
presented deeply personal reasons for entering the
profession. A single author in a past edition of the BJMT,
Martin Lawes, also tackled a personal journey, and in
this current edition Helen Lunt's courageous article
expands upon this theme. Taking the concept of the
Wounded Healer, Lunt explores her own journey into
and out of mental ill health. The insights gained from
this are described and links are made with her current
clinical practice. Following the Oxford Congress model,
the article is also responded to by three therapists
working in related areas, and these responses pose a
challenge for all of us to acknowledge our vulnerability
in the work. There is insight to be gained through this,
and while we rarely talk publicly about our own mental
health as a profession, this article offers us an
opportunity to face this apparent taboo. It is an
indication of where we are as a profession that we can
undertake this task of discussing our vulnerabilities as
well as our strengths. It is important to remember that
our own health is implicated in the work, both as a
source of information and as a repercussion of the
vocation itself.
In writing about analytical practice, Sedgewick has
stated:
... the analyst really does straddle a line between
sickness and health in this experience-based mode of
working. I find it natural and meaningful to work and
conceptualise in this way, under the aegis of the
wounded-healer archetype. (Sedgewick 1994: 148)
In Sedgewick's terms, the analyst works actively with
their own vulnerability to ill health and gains further
insight from this. As l.unt's article makes clear, this is by
no means a new approach to the work, and many of us
already use psychoanalytic and psychodynamic theory
in our struggles with the effects of transference and
counter-transference in sessions. It is a form of striving
for a balance between being connected to our own
feelings whilst also attending to those of our clients and
of their perceptions of us, as described earlier by Bunt
and Hoskyns. We have the added dimension of being
musically engaged in sessions during which our clients
may also be musically engaged, sometimes separately
and sometimes simultaneously with us. There is quite a
challenge here, and this is expressed succinctly by
Jacoby:
The most difficult task is also to differentiate the
ability to stay in touch with oneself while at the same
time taking distance from oneself, and, also trying to
see oneself through the eyes of the patient - by way
of empathy. (Jacoby 1995:80)
Again this balancing has to be done with care and
support. Pavlicevic has cautioned us to take on this task
with a sense of conscious responsibility, including an
awareness of how we make us~ of psychological theory
(Pavlicevic 1997: 174-5). According to Pavlicevic there
is a potential trap in either relying on or dismissing such
theory. Theory could be used as a shield with which to
protect less than competent musical practice, while
dismissing applied psychology perspectives and
retaining an entirely musical focus could mean that the
reality of the different levels of human interaction might
be missed. This to some extent echoes the earlier point
made by Levinge. An important way of checking that we
do not fall into the traps that Pavlicevic wrote about is to
engage in clinical supervision. As noted at the
beginning of the editorial, this is an area that is well
supported in the UK. This topic is the focus for the other
Editotie! 163
 article in this edition of the Journal, arising out of Alison about her. Only now am I beginning to realise the
Levinge's experiences as a clinician, a supervisor, a energy, drive and commitment that this task demanded,
course head and member of the UK Core Supervision and how she never wavered for one second in her deep
Panel. The article is a welcome addition to the literature belief in the power of music.
and gives a theoretical underpinning for supervisory
References
practice that will be of interest and use to supervisors
Bunt, L. & Hoskyns, S. (2002) The Handbook of Music Therapy.
and supervisees alike, whether relating to training or to London: Jessica Kingsley Publishers
the everyday workplace. Jacoby, M. (1995) 'Supervision and the Interactive Field'. In P.
Continuing the theme of clinical supervision, a Kugler (ed.) Jungian Perspectives on Clinical Supervision.
perspective from the US is given in the review of the first Switzerland: Daimon
publication to deal solely with music therapy Pavlicevic, M. (1997) Music Therapy in Context: Music, Meaning
supervision, which includes contributions from a range and Relationship. London: Jessica Kingsley Publishers
Sedgewick, D. (1994) The Wounded Healer. London: Routledge
of international authors. Two further book reviews offer
Stewart, D. (2000) 'The State of the UK Music Therapy Profession:
a contrast, describing publications aimed both at
Personal Qualities, Working Models, Support Networks and
parents (Caring for Children with Autism) and Job Satisfaction'. British Journal of Music Therapy 14 (1):13-32
practitioners (Where Analysis Meets the Arts). The
remainder of the Journal is completed by the regular
Text-watch and an Erratum relating to the previous issue.
In focusing on issues relating to the support of music
therapists in the UK, this edition of the Journal is aimed
at stimulating further debate within the profession. Such
debate should encompass the collective and the
individual - that is, raising questions about music
therapists as a professional group and also as isolated
individuals during every working day. As the interview
with Diana Asbridge shows, there have been huge
developments over the past decade, which have relied
on the efforts of a relatively small proportion of UK
registered music therapists. With the CPO scheme
becoming more firmly embedded in working practice,
this responsibility will shift to the individual therapist. In
this way the debate raised by this volume could become
part of the process of reflection in all our clinical work.
Finally, the item following this editorial is an
appreciation of the life of Sybil Beresford-Peirse, who
died during the last few hours of the Oxford Congress.
Pauline Etkin and Jean Eisler both write about their
memories of her, and I will end this editorial with my
own. I was trained by Sybil in the early days of the first
of the two London Nordoff-Robbins Centres. There were
nine 'trainees', as Sybil called us. We were a disparate
group whose membership numbered one Japanese, four
British and four German students, of a wide range of
previous experience and of ages. The training was
difficult, and for a while we were spread between
several different sites, while the final work was being
done on the 'new' centre. Somehow Sybil managed to
hold together all these different aspects, as well as
providing a stable focus that served as a foundation for
our first steps as therapists. On a personal level, while
she supported and also challenged me over the years, it
was her ability to hold onto the fundamental elements of
what I and my fellow students were doing as therapists
in training (and later in work) that I remember most

64 British Journal of Music Therapy • Volume 16 • No 2 2002