"Singing is a way of expressing oneself": How music helps autistic children at the Menton Conservatory

"Music is so powerful." In the room of Michel Geraud, a professor of opera singing at the Menton Conservatory , there are instruments, sheet music, and wood. Everywhere. On the walls, benches, instruments, and there are also some on the floor, where a tablecloth has been laid. "It reassures the children," he explains. And he knows something about it. Every week, he gives them music lessons.

Last November, the municipal conservatory and the Bariquand Alphand medical-educational institute (IME) signed an agreement allowing children with autism to practice music and singing.

The classes are taught by Michel Geraud and are held in small groups, with the aim of better supporting the children. "We ask our young people to make a lot of effort in terms of learning and socializing," Ahmed Ben Brahim, director of the IME, confided a few months ago. " This project is a very good thing, because at the conservatory, they will be able to learn while developing relationships."

Singing to express oneself

Little Sarah has an autism spectrum disorder and is accompanied by Cassandre Peythieu, a psychomotor therapist at the IME. Another student, also disabled, is participating in the lesson. It's almost like a private lesson. "It's her moment, her bubble," says Cassandre, looking at Sarah.

All four of them sit cross-legged on the tablecloth. This is how the class begins. A few vocal warm-ups, to begin. Michel Geraud sets the example, and they rehearse. The exercises follow one after the other.

Everything happens smoothly: that's Cassandre's role. He follows the children, his guiding principle. Sarah has specific needs that require her to be "listening" at all times. "Singing is a way of expressing herself," Cassandre asserts. The teacher thus follows in the footsteps of the psychomotor therapist, who analyzes the young girl's needs.

Gently

We change activities without realizing it. Michel gets up, sits down at the piano, and suddenly we're singing Compère Guilleri while seated. The next moment, we're standing up to perform Promenons-nous dans les bois.

"You've added a choreography," Michel rejoices as he sees the girls dancing. Clear. Cassandre creates a bridge between each activity: "What if we moved closer to the piano?" she asks, moving towards the instrument. The two children follow her to stand behind the music stand, beside her.

Sarah quickly takes the lead, wanting to sing a song. She begins, hesitant, and Michel accompanies her on the piano. Cassandre recalls: " Before, she already sang a lot. When the partnership was formed, we immediately thought of her."

"She has an incredible ear," acknowledges the teacher, impressed by the young girl's musical memory. "You only have to sing Au clair de la Lune once, for example, and she will sing it at the same pitch in subsequent lessons." Then comes the time to play the digital harpsichord, "more baroque," and the girls slide their fingers over the white and black keys.

"I learn as much as I teach them."

"This class is not a lecture," concludes Michel. The opera singing teacher admits that it took him a while to understand that there was no "musical stake" but rather a human stake. Authentic. "I learn as much as I teach them," he assures.

And his students reciprocate. "Normally, Sarah just repeats what we say. One time, she came into the room and said 'Hello Michel' first," he says proudly, with a smile on his face, without needing to exaggerate. The power of music...