Volume 24 Issue 4 - December 2018 / January 2019

MUSIC AND HEALTH
Recollectiv’s
RESTORATIVE
MISSION
VIVIEN FELLEGI
Danielle Flax conducting
VIVIEN FELLEGI
On a chilly fall Saturday at Toronto’s Tranzac Club,
Recollectiv’s musicians with brain injuries and
their care partners get ready for their regular hourlong
sanctuary from stress. Caregivers find their charges’
name tags and seat them in a sunlit room decorated
with instruments. As they catch up, their loved ones sit
sedately. One man with a dazzling smile seems to invite
conversation, but only speaks in monosyllables. A woman
with orange hair stares into space.
Today’s conductor, Danielle Flax, welcomes the group and, with a
flourish of her arms, leads off You are my Sunshine. The participants
perk up. They sit straighter. Some sing along to the golden oldies.
Others just bob their heads to the beat. The woman with orange hair
flips through her music book, while the man with the smile croons a
love song to his wife. Music blurs the boundaries amongst the crowd,
and their voices soar in unison.
Recollectiv’s founder, singer and entertainer, Ilana Waldston, is
pleased every time she witnesses the magic of melodies. “When I see
the smiles, I know some kind of therapy is benefitting them,” she says.
These joyous moments don’t come readily to those with meandering
minds. But music retains its charm long after clients have forgotten
how to read. “Maybe the memories aren’t there, but the feelings can
still transport you back to better times,” says Waldston.
The choir welcomes caregivers along with their loved ones.
Waldston recognized the need for this forum when her mother,
Shimona, the woman with orange hair, withdrew into dementia. As
Shimona’s interests narrowed, her daughter took her to the symphony
which Shimona still enjoyed. But when Shimona began to sing along
with the soloists, Waldston realized she had to find a safe place where
they could both indulge their passion for performance.
In the summer of 2017, Waldston heard a radio show about The 5th
Dementia, a California-based band for musicians with cognitive
deficits and their companions, and decided to spearhead a similar
ensemble in Toronto. Her goal was for members to enjoy a meaningful
activity in a barrier-free space. “I wanted both participants and caregivers
to feel whole again,” she says. Recollectiv – which combines
“recollect” and “collective” – debuted in March 2018.
Wound up by music, Danielle Flax is a whirlwind of energy. She
bounces from one foot to another as she conducts, and her frizzy
ponytail swings in tandem. Though this is her first time filling in
for the absent Waldston, the seasoned singer is in her element. But
while the 34-year-old Flax makes it look easy, she’s had to fight for
her accomplishments. Almost a decade ago, surgery for a brain tumor
compromised her memory, making her forget words. Even worse was
the erasure of milestone moments, which made her self-conscious
when her friends reminisced. “I’m the downer because I’ll go ‘I can’t
remember that,’” she says.
Flax turned to songs for solace. Though she struggled to speak, she
could still belt out pieces which predated her malady. “That reduced
my anxiety,” she says. Even better, music revived happier times.
Hearing a lullaby her mother had once hummed would whisk her
back to the security of childhood.
Music’s ability to channel the past can help soothe patients with
dementia, says neurologic music therapist, researcher and University
of Toronto assistant professor, Corene Hurt-Thaut. Because familiar
tunes and musical genres evoke strong emotions, they can transport
us back to events associated with those sentiments. A tune chanted by
their father, for instance, can conjure up the safe haven of their school
days and reduce their anxiety. “They start talking about these positive
memories and their whole mood changes,” says Hurt-Thaut.
Music can rekindle memories not just for events, but also for lyrics,
says Hurt-Thaut. Clients who have forgotten their children’s names
can still spout the words to their favourite songs. That’s because
these are stored in different, more resistant parts of the brain than
spoken language.
This multiplicity of vocalization pathways can be harnessed for
patients with trouble talking (aphasia), says music therapist and
neuroscientist Concetta Tomaino, executive director and co-founder
of New York’s Institute for Music and Neurologic Function. Though
aphasia patients struggle with oral expression, they can still sing lyrics.
While singing and speaking are distinct abilities, their underlying
brain circuits overlap in some of the smaller pathways that are spared
following an injury to the primary speech centre. This means you can
spark the speech circuits by igniting the closely linked musical ones.
Therapy for aphasia gradually grafts speech elements onto the
intact musical ones, says Tomaino. Clients begin by singing songs
with familiar lyrics. They tap their fingers to the beat, drawing out the
words through the insistent rhythm. As they improve with repetition,
the melody is gradually withdrawn and replaced by spoken words.
78 | December 2018 - January 2019 thewholenote.com