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Equinox Magazine -- May
1997
Does your child have trouble learning? Is your boss
constantly interrupting you? Are you searching for a way to live
life more fully? The answers, according to the Tomatis Method, are
all in the ears.
The usual sonic mayhem of downtown Toronto seems particularly acute
on a cold and crisp December morning. It is the kind of day when
the air does little to fi lter out squealing brakes, distant yells,
rumbling streetcars, even traffi c lights changing colours; a day
when you realize just how deadened the human ear normally is to
the urban grinder. It is in just this maelstrom, in a quaint and
cheerful three-storey brick Victorian building, that children and
adults are tuning their bodies to the world. The bright, childlike
drawings and the giggles of active youngsters coming from various
rooms do little to prepare a visitor for what is really happening.
Here, the human ear is being moulded into a powerful tool of transformation.
In one room on the main fl oor, a 6-year-old boy with a reputation
as a schoolyard bully bounces on a small trampoline while wearing
headphones that seem to swallow his head. One fl ight up, a younger
boy who has had diffi culty relating to his parents wears similar
headgear while lying quietly on a mat listening to the music of
Mozart.
Toying with listening technology, young and old are
tuned to the world at Toronto’s Listening Centre. Director
Paul Madaule teaches actor Gisele Rousseau how to vocalize with
greater precision.
Next door in the adult room, an opera singer reads
a libretto into a microphone, loudly and
with great vigour, and receives feedback of her own voice. Nearby,
a mother records a fable that
will be specially processed electronically for her grade-school
daughter, who has serious speech impediments, to listen to. Throughout
the day, others will venture to The Listening Centre for their own
voyage in sound stimulation and auditory training. It is all designed
to reawaken the ear and body and even the desire to embrace life.
Toronto’s Listening Centre is one of the largest
and most respected of more than 200 facilities
worldwide that are based on the so-called Tomatis Method, a rather
unorthodox view of how the ear works. The idea was developed in
the early 1950s by Alfred Tomatis, a French ear, nose, and throat
specialist who described a highly active role for the ear, a function
that complemented the brain’s work.
In a key departure from the traditional neurophysiology
of the ear, Tomatis distinguished between hearing and listening.
To hear, he claimed, is to perceive sound. To listen is to tune
those sounds selectively, an all-encompassing process that shapes
our connections to the world around us. In this light, it is possible
to hear sounds but not attend to them. While people might actually
hear well, they could still have listening problems brought on by
a range of psychological stresses.
Tomatis was convinced that listening diffi culties, especially among
children, led to speech and language impairment, learning disabilities,
lack of concentration and alertness, the tendency to interrupt others,
depression, and even severe withdrawal, such as in the case of autism.
It was quite the proposition, considering that traditional medicine
had viewed the ear essentially as a receiver piping sounds to the
brain, where the processing and real perceptual work occurred.
By the mid-1950s, Tomatis had devised a method to
treat these types of problems by correcting poor
listening. It involved use of a device, dubbed the Electronic Ear,
that emits various sound frequencies, or ranges, to stimulate and
train the ear to listen more effectively. He claimed the method
not only improved the quality of the voice and language and organizational
skills but also helped reenergize the brain. And since the inner
ear is closely associated with balance and movement, his sound-stimulation
approach would also improve posture and coordination.
If true, it meant almost anyone could benefi t from the Tomatis
Method - from those suffering from a
mild to severe breakdown in communication to those simply desiring
a listening tune-up.
A story often told about Tomatis by his advocates is how he managed
to give a new lease on life to a
group of Benedictine monks who had “lost their spirit.”
In the mid-1960s, the monks at a French abbey in the south of France
were suffering from extreme fatigue and depression. Various medical
prescriptions, such as a change in diet, medications, and a vitamin
regimen, all proved futile. Sleeping longer hours only made matters
worse.
The monks asked Tomatis, who had visited the abbey,
to return to conduct his own medical investigation.Tomatis quickly
determined that problems began soon after they had followed a 1960
Vatican directive prohibiting the use of Latin in religious services
and stopped
practising Gregorian chants. The monk had already been living a
very quiet life and were, he reasoned, shutting out even more sound
stimulation to the brain. As the story goes, Tomatis reintroduced
Gregorian chants into the daily life of the depressed monks. Most
of the
monks soon regained their physical and spiritual health.
It was this vignette that fi rst drew me to Tomatis. As a newspaper
reporter on the lookout for new ideas, I made arrangements to interview
him when he set up temporary shop in Montreal in
the mid-1970s as part of his plan to establish centres in North
America that would apply his ear-training methods.
Initially, during our meeting, Tomatis was no nonsense
and scarcely broke into a smile. His head shaved, he sat rigidly
in a straight-back chair and appeared more monk than physician.
He eventually warmed as he related the events that led him to a
radical vision of how the ear is at the very centre of human functioning.
Tomatis’s voyage of discovery began with observations
he made in medical practice about opera singers who needed treatment
to overcome vocal diffi culties. To understand why they were having
problems, he took a cue from a study he had conducted for the French
government in the late 1940s on how noise can affect hearing: he
had noted that factory workers with hearing loss suffered some distortions
in their voices. Was there a link between hearing and vocalizing?
When he gave his voice-troubled singers audiograms to measure their
ability to hear sounds, they, too, showed signs of hearing loss,
leading him to reason that it was likely due to “noise”
from their own voices. After all, an opera singer such as the famed
Maria Callas, who was a Tomatis patient, could belt out as many
as 130 decibels of sound, comparable to the noise you would hear
while standing near jet engines. When Tomatis tested further by
blocking singers’ right ears while they performed (bombarding
them with noise or cutting off sound), he noticed that their voices
began to break down. It was another clue that voice and hearing
are inextricably linked. Hence, his famous principle that became
known as the Tomatis Effect: If you cannot hear a sound, you will
not be capable of singing it or, for that matter, speaking it.
The lone fi gure at a microphone in one of the adult rooms at The
Listening Centre recites tracts from
a Wagnerian opera. Wearing headphones, singer Margot Bos listens
to a fi ltered feedback of her own
voice, a process that exercises her middle-ear muscles and enhances
her ability to focus more easily on a wide range of sounds. It’s
the fi rst day of her fi ve-day Tomatis ear tune-up, and Bos, who
has travelled from her home in Baltimore, expects that improvement
in listening ability will reinforce more fl exible and easily produced
singing.
Several years ago, while completing her Master’s
degree at the University of Indiana, she noticed her singing voice
was becoming wobbly. “I know now that I was being forced to
sing the wrong repertoire, and I was straining my voice,”
Bos says with obvious frustration. “I am a dramatic soprano,
but my teacher was trying to make me sing in a lower range. Eventually,
my voice fell apart completely.” Susan Dusk, a voice teacher
in Philadelphia, introduced Bos to the Tomatis Ear Training Method.
Dusk had studied with Tomatis and accepted his theory that the voice
can produce only harmonics the ear is likely to hear. She advised
Bos that ear training would likely help her build a solid and fl
exible voice, rich in a higher range. It turned out to be excellent
advice. After a full program, which required a total of 25 days
of ear training, Bos emerged with a voice that could more easily
cut through an orchestra. “I could sing much more easily in
the higher range, and my voice was very clear,” she recalls.
The training had, in part, forced her to listen more attentively
to sounds in the higher range, and in turn, she became more capable
of reproducing them. About 18 months ago, Bos experienced another
setback, this time breast cancer. “Singing kept me going,
and now I’m doing really well,” she says. The fi ve-day
ear training boost is aimed at helping her fi ne-tune her singing
for several upcoming voice competitions and an operatic performance.
“You know, I really enjoy these sessions she says. Ear stimulation
is a pleasurable experience. I sort of enter a zone and reenter
the world feeling refreshed and recharged.” -- N.R. In further
administering hearing tests to singers, he noted that a life in
music was associated with a certain way of hearing. He found the
same true for specifi c languages that have their own acoustic geographies.
British English, for example, is richer in high-frequency content
than French, whereas French is richer in medium frequency. The “English
ear” is therefore differently tuned than the French. But is
it not the brain’s job to process the sounds and make sense
of them? I asked. With mild impatience, Tomatis spoke about tiny
muscles connected with two small bones, the hammer and stirrup,
that sit in the middle ear. “These muscles are generally viewed
as a system that can protect the ear from dangerously loud noise
by diminishing vibrations of the eardrum and incoming sound,”
he told me. “But they’re also capable of focusing the
ear to tune into certain sounds.” The English ear, for instance,
could be trained to adjust to the range of pitches of other languages.
As it happens, the nerves controlling the hammer and stirrup muscles
are also involved in speech, which helps explain why attuning to
sounds would allow one to reproduce them vocally with more ease.
Delving deeper into the ear’s physiology, Tomatis was interested
in the phenomenon of the dominant ear. Humans are either right-ear
or left-ear dominant, which indicates through which ear they primarily
take in sounds. Tomatis came to believe that listening predominantly
with the right ear is a more effi cient means to tune in and respond
to the world. The right ear, he reasoned, has more direct and numerous
connections than the left ear to the brain’s left hemisphere,
the primary control centre for speech and hearing. Listening predominantly
with the left ear, according to Tomatis, delays the processing of
sound and reduces the quality of sound reception. Because most nerves
in the brain lead to the opposite side of the body, signals must
fi rst be routed from the left ear to the right side of the brain,
and only then are they forwarded to the left. This view led Tomatis
to postulate further that a delay in sound processing could well
affect speech, leading to inarticulate or monotonous expression
and even stuttering. He also studied the structures of the inner
ear, specifi cally the cochlea, conventionally associated with sound
perception, and the vestibule, which handles the perception of three-dimensional
space such as body position, movement, and balance. Tomatis didn’t
view cochlea and vestibule as functioning separately, as was widely
thought; rather, he saw them working together, their anatomic connections
strong throughout the nervous system. Together the cochlea and vestibule
analyze movements, jointly contribute to the awareness of ourselves
in space, and link up with all forms of sensory information. In
a sense, such interconnectivity enables the entire body to be involved
in the processing of sound. At this point, it was hardly a leap
for Tomatis to conclude that poor listening skills could have an
impact on the entire body, meaning that human imperatives such as
speech, coordination, and body image could be disturbed. By the
end of our meeting, I began to realize that perhaps this is partly
what was occurring with the monks Tomatis was able to help. It wasn’t
merely a matter of sending energy to their brains by means of sound
stimulation. The therapy Tomatis had designed was calculated to
rouse the body. In this sense, he pioneered not only a therapeutic
approach but also an understanding of what it may take to live life
more fully. Today at the age of 77, Alfred Tomatis rarely travels
from his home in Paris, but his theories on the centrality of the
ear and the physiological distinction between hearing and listening
have found fertile ground. There is a World Wide Web page devoted
to his work, and his devotees continue to spread the word. Founded
in 1978, The Listening Centre in Toronto is the oldest in North
America of those that employ Tomatis Ear Training. Some 3,000 clients
from Canada and elsewhere have received auditory training at the
Toronto centre, with children representing two-thirds of the cases.
“We often get people here who have been all over seeking help
for their communication diffi culties,” says Paul Madaule,
the centre’s director. “We’re often their last
hope. Most of those who come have serious or complex disorders.”
A warm, soft-mannered man chasing 50, Madaule has been deeply affected
by Tomatis. As an I8-yearold, Madaule had met the physician in 1967
at the Abbey of En-Calcat in the south of France, where the teenager,
diagnosed as dyslexic as a child, regularly sought refuge to escape
the pain of failure in school. “I was miserable then,”
Madaule says slowly. “I couldn’t read and write well;
I couldn’t express myself and relate well to others, including
my parents. I was extremely shy, and I was very clumsy.” As
he did for the monks in the abbey, Tomatis used his still-evolving
ear-training tool kit to help Madaule to embrace life. Again, as
with the monks, Tomatis’s techniques had the desired effect.
Madaule went on to study psychology at the Sorbonne in Paris and
trained with Tomatis. After seven years working in Europe and South
Africa, his next stop was Toronto, where he co-founded The Listening
Centre. From the beginning, Madaule has attempted to design a therapeutic
centre that is “not too much a home, not too much a clinic,
and not too much a school - a space that is likely to have no negative
associations” for his clients. Giving me a tour of the three-fl
oor building, Madaule takes pains to point out the soft-colour prints
and playrooms throughout the building. “People can feel that
they can have a new start here without the intimidating presence
of a clinical environment or the negative memories of home or school.”
Leisurely touring the facility, we see several ear-training sessions
underway: the children either lie quietly on mats or play with toys
in their therapy rooms. The basement features a swing, a trampoline,
and a tire hanging from the ceiling. All patients wear large, heavy
headphones that are connected to an Electronic Ear, a sound-stimulation
module that looks like a large, high-tech stereo system with an
excess of fancy knobs. The core of the Tomatis Method, the Electronic
Ear is designed to manipulate sound frequencies. Tomatis believes
that high-frequency sounds rich in harmonics, such as those coming
from a violin, energize the brain, while low-frequency sounds, such
as drum beats, sap energy. As Madaule explains it, a membrane in
the inner ear is covered with cells that translate vibration into
sound. There are more cells transporting high-frequency sounds than
low-frequency to the brain. High-frequency sounds carry more vibrations
and therefore pack more energizing power. The Electronic Ear essentially
is a soundamplifi cation system that can increase or decrease the
frequencies, or ranges, of sound in both ears. An automatic switch,
or “gate,” in the machine can turn up one form of sound
(such as the high ranges of a Mozart sonata) and then the other
(the lower ranges), thereby giving the hammer and stirrup muscles
of the middle ear a good workout. The machine can also reduce volume
to the left ear, forcing the right ear to work harder to listen.
Most children undergo two intensive 30-hour phases of ear training,
returning to the centre during each phase for two-hour sessions
on 15 consecutive days. The two phases are interrupted by a four-
to eightweek hiatus. At the cost of $55 per hour, the average cost
runs to $3,300. In some cases, children return for one or more follow-up
boosts. On this day, Matt, 8 years old, has arrived with his parents
for his second boost, all the way from Halifax. He fi rst came to
the centre in 1992 at the age of 4, experiencing serious diffi culty
in communicating, even with his parents. In Halifax, doctors had
diagnosed him as having “severely delayed speech disorder
and language development in the presence of poor social interactive
skills.” One specialist categorized him as PDD, short for
pervasive developmental disorder, a term often used when a child’s
tendency to cut off from the world is not as extreme as in the case
of autism. Matt’s entry into the world was harsh. He was born
severely hypoglycemic. Besides being hospitalized for three months,
he suffered a mild heart condition and several seizures. Thereafter,
he was plagued with a series of ear infections. “Matt was
the classic case of a child who has a diffi cult start in life,
gets ear infections, and then develops serious listening problems,”
Madaule says while watching his young patient relax on a mat with
his headphones on. “When I fi rst saw him, he was hypersensitive
to certain sounds, including his father’s electric shaver
and the microwave beeping at home. He basically was not in control
of his listening. He couldn’t tune in to what he wanted at
will and tune out what he didn’t want.” Matt’s
listening test showed he had diffi culty processing sound in general.
“It suggested very convincingly that he was a very disorganized
child,” says Madaule. “We thought that ear training
here could help Matt improve his attention span and become more
socially aware, that a greater motivation to be social might facilitate
speech.” Madaule, however warned Matt’s parents that
it would not be easy. On the basis of the child’s history
and interviews, Madaule was convinced Matt would fi ght change tooth
and nail. “I try to tell parents very directly what I feel
we can do, if anything,” he says. Nevertheless, Madaule’s
clear-eyed assessment was comforting to Matt’s parents, who
had all but given up hope on mainstream treatment. “The fact
that we had some idea of what we were dealing with was the beginning
of a healing process for the entire family,” says Matt’s
mother. Like all children at the centre, Matt began listening to
tape recordings of Mozart while he rested or played; the lower ranges
were gradually fi ltered out so that the muscles in his middle ear
were forced to open to the high ranges, which sound like scratches
and squeaks. High ranges of sound are also employed to mimic the
conditions in the womb, where, Tomatis claimed, listening actually
begins. He originally believed the fetus could hear only high-frequency
sounds that are fi ltered through the amniotic fl uid, since the
fl uid fi lters out the low-frequency sounds. In fact, scientists
would discover in the 1960s that the fetus hears by at least 4 1/2
months in utero and that by the sixth month, acoustic nerves are
capable of transmitting information to the developing brain. Tomatis
also observed that the higher ranges of the mother’s voice
seemed to have a powerful effect on some children, leading to a
greater desire to connect to the world. This, too, was later confi
rmed by scientists, although the precise mechanism of how the fetus
tunes in to the mother’s voice remains unclear. With the crucial
role of the mother in mind, Tomatis used the Electronic Ear to move
his young patients gently from the prenatal sound environment to
the fuller world of sound outside the womb, to allow them to experience
a “sonic rebirth.” The ear-training program involved
fi rst fi ltering and then broadening the range of the mother’s
voice, whenever a recording could be made, as well as selections
from Mozart. Toward the end of the regimen, the child would hear
the lower ranges of the mother’s voice. A curious by-product
of sound stimulation is that it seems to make the children more
affectionate and attentive. “They start to listen, speak more;
you can even see a shift taking place often after only a few sessions,”
says Madaule. In fact, that is what happened with Matt soon into
his ear-training sessions. “He was more communicative and
attention-seeking,” his mother says. “He even looked
at me, touched my face, and said, ‘Mommy’s pretty face.’
He never before said anything like that.” Phase two of ear
training is more active. The children, speaking into a microphone,
use their own voices, amplifi ed and modifi ed by the Electronic
Ear, to stimulate listening and to gain better control over their
voice production. They might even sing and chant. In Matt’s
case, the prognosis appears to be positive. He is still in regular
school and performing above the average in academic subjects. But
it is not all roses, as Madaule expected. Matt still has diffi cult
days both at school and at home. He is likely to remain a child
with “an edge.” “What we’ve given him is
a platform to stand on, but much will depend upon how those in life
relate to him in the years ahead,” says Madaule. “I
hope and am pretty sure that Matt will encounter on his way to adulthood
signifi cant others who will understand him, link up with him, like
him, and help him to look at his edge as an asset.” Matt’s
story offers insight for anyone; to a varying degree, we all live
with an edge, a certain twist in personality. Because we move in
a world that bombards us with sounds, anyone can begin to show signs
of poor listening and, consequently, personal breakdown. One might
wonder how many individuals there are with whom we relate daily
who have an edge caused by some defi ciency in the way they process
sound. It also raises the question of how much we contribute to
that breakdown by not providing the tiny bit of support that could
make a difference. Take Kathy, now 15. She is talkative, outgoing,
and friendly but also the kind of person you might meet and think
odd or a little kooky or off-beat. She has bursts of enthusiasm
when words come streaming out of her mouth, then she will abruptly
shut down and draw inward. She fi rst came to the centre in 1995
at the age of 13, having experienced diffi culties at school. One
specialist said she had an “auditory processing problem”
in association with distractibility, one aspect of attention-defi
cit disorder. Like Matt, Kathy also had a history of coordination
problems, delay in speech development, and bouts with ear infection.
Her assessment at the centre showed that she exhibited “interpretive
listening,” a tendency to anticipate the end of what someone
started to say and to not listen long enough to sounds. She was
more sensitive to sounds and thoughts coming from within than from
without. This showed up in her habit of interrupting others who
were speaking. “She never let me fi nish a sentence,”
her mother says. It is just the sort of behaviour that can lead
to misinterpretation of messages and misunderstandings, which, in
turn, lead to confl ict. Kathy’s listening style also revealed
that she lacked the ability to discriminate adequately between sounds.
“The typical person in this condition,” Madaule says,
“seems to live in a daze.” When she arrived at the centre,
Kathy had no friends and seemed to be withdrawing from life. Now,
after ear training, she is talking more and her focus is sharp.
She says she enjoys her friendships and is receiving high marks
in school. “She’s becoming a well-rounded adolescent
without losing her edge,” Madaule says. “She is a youngster
with a style.” Sophie Garceau, Madaule’s assistant director
and chief listening therapist, has seen this transformation before.
“There are so many teenagers like Kathy who never receive
any help,” she says. Prior to arriving in Toronto, Garceau
worked for four years with high school dropouts in Montreal. “They
had little motivation to continue their schooling. They tuned out,
much like Kathy.” How does one evaluate the effectiveness
of the Tomatis method to improve listening - and life? There still
is no easy answer. The supporting hard science on the effectiveness
of Tomatis ear training remains weak; as is often the case with
therapeutic regimens, very little rigorous science has been attempted,
mainly because of lack of money to fund research. “The centres
doing Tomatis don’t have the kind of money it takes to do
big double-blind research,” Madaule says. Some small and uncontrolled
studies conducted over two decades suggest, however, it is benefi
cial. So does a surveylike study of 400 children at The Listening
Centre that required parents to grade the performance of their children.
On the value of the work as a practical, conceptual tool for child
development, the praise often is very high. For example, Madaule’s
I994 book, When Listening Comes Alive, which includes an account
of The Listening Centre’s employment of the Tomatis Method,
has drawn praise from such prominent Toronto medical professionals
as Thomas Verny, who is known for his writings about prenatal life.
Stanley Greenspan of Bethesda, Maryland, widely considered one of
the leading child therapists in the world and particularly expert
with autistic children, thinks highly enough of Tomatis Listening
Training to have referred about 200 children, including cases of
autism, to a centre in Bethesda that functions much like The Listening
Centre. “The approach can help some children who have diffi
culties with auditory processing,” he says, cautioning, however,
that a variety of programs may be required, such as speech therapy
and extensive counselling to help some children open up to the world.
Ultimately, the parents and clients decide whether the Tomatis approach
works. “We see that it works in a variety of ways in many
of the children,” Madaule says, shuffl ing a handful of case
fi les. “Their parents are the ones who see the results most
vividly. Interest in what we can accomplish spreads by word of mouth.
If people call in to ask about the method, we tell them that we
hold a monthly open house and they are welcome to attend. I feel
that we give them a realistic picture of what may be possible. Then
it’s up to them.” As we wrap up our discussion in Madaule’s
offi ce on the fi rst fl oor, my mind goes back some 20 years to
my encounter in Montreal with Alfred Tomatis. At that time, I left
intrigued by his ideas but never once considered that I, myself,
needed a tune-up. Madaule leaves me with the stronger implication
that everyone’s listening skills need a boost. Perhaps I have
underestimated how powerful cultural stimuli wear me down and disturb
my ability to be selective in my listening habits. For those who
are not on a high-priority waiting list for intensive ear training,
Madaule is hoping to develop a small, portable ear trainer. “I’m
playing with the idea,” he says, handing me a prototype. I
switch it on and listen on lightweight headphones to the same high-pitched,
scratchy sounds that fi ltered music on the Electronic Ear produces.
It may not be Mozart, but the sense that my ears are getting an
aerobic workout is unmistakable. Watching me, Madaule senses he
has reeled in another convert. “Whatever your problem looks
like,” he says with a smile, “it’s core is poor
listening.”
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