CAML Review / Revue de l'ACBM (Canadian Association of Music Libraries, Archives and Documentation Centres / Association canadienne des bibliothèques, archives et centres de documentation musicaux)

Suzanne Meyers Sawa
Christiane Melançon
Jan Guise
Rob van der BliekSuzanne Meyers Sawa
Christiane Melançon
Jan Guise
Rob van der Blie

Les membres de l'ACBM réfléchissent (3)

Franseen, Kristin

The Violet Trilogy and the Joys of Musical Biofiction: Review Article of the Violet Trilogy by Mary E. Hughes (Books)

Sorbara, Joe

 
CAML REVIEW / REVUE DE L’ACBM  49, NO. 1 (JUNE / JUIN 2021) PAGE 61 
Live at the Cellar: Vancouver’s Iconic Jazz Club and 
the Canadian Co-operative Jazz Scene in the 1950s 
and ‘60s by Marian Jago. Vancouver: UBC Press, 
2018. 364 pp. ISBN: 978-0-7748-3769-9 (paperback).  
Reviewed by Joe Sorbara 
 
In the fall of 2017, my family and I packed up our 
Toronto home to spend two years living in Vancouver. 
There were many happy coincidences that came with 
the East Van home we found ourselves living in, one 
of them being that the bus that stopped less than a 
minute from our front door was ... well, it was kind of 
magical. When I learned that it would take me right to 
the front door of Merge or, if I continued on, drop me 
within spitting distance of the China Cloud, and then 
8EAST, and then the Gold Saucer Studios where 
Sawdust Collector events went down, I began thinking 
of it as the “jazz bus.” In addition to Presentation 
House in North Van and, of course, the iconic Western Front in Mt Pleasant (neither of which the 
jazz bus passed on its route, unfortunately), it was primarily in these artist-run spaces that the 
profoundly welcoming community of people interested in adventurous, creative, experimental 
music-making gathered and sounded. So, as it happened, my Vancouver came ready-made with a 
magical jazz bus that picked me up right where I lived and took me directly to where the 
improvisers were making “the scene.” 
Halfway through my time on the west coast, late in 2018, Marian Jago’s Live at the Cellar: 
Vancouver’s Iconic Jazz Club and the Canadian Co-operative Jazz Scene in the 1950s and ’60s was 
released and, for many reasons, I wish that I had read it then. For one, the book has helped me to 
see the histories of artist-run venues as being interwoven with histories of experimental forms of 
music-making that draw, more or less, from the deep well of the Black American Music tradition. 
Jago’s tracing of these histories from the Wailhouse and the Cellar through the Black Hole and Flat 
Five—all by young musicians inspired by the experiments of Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, et al.— 
would have provided a deepened perspective as I was hearing stories about the Glass Slipper and 
1067 and frequenting the spots mentioned above. This is what histories do: they change the 
present for us. This book has me seeing and hearing Vancouver’s diverse Creative Music scene 
differently, with an expanded sense of time, and it has me inspired to learn more about the 
 
   
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License. 
 
CAML REVIEW / REVUE DE L’ACBM  49, NO. 1 (JUNE / JUIN 2021) PAGE 62 
trajectories of these histories throughout the rest of Canada. It has also taught me that if I had been 
in Vancouver in the late 1950s and early ’60s I would have been catching whatever bus was headed 
toward the Cellar, the artist-run space at Broadway and Kingsway whose story is at the heart of 
Marian Jago’s excellent book. 
Live at the Cellar begins with a thoughtful exploration of “scene”-ness, as both a sociological model 
and as a way of life, that will be interesting to anyone compelled to think about the 
interrelationships among art, identity, and community. We are then treated to a whirlwind tour 
through more interwoven histories beginning nationally with stories from the first half of the 
twentieth century about the state of transportation and population, early public radio and its 
dependence upon the Canadian National Railway, early Canadian jazz and its relationship with the 
CBC, and how the limitations of rail and road travel isolated the west coast from the rest of the 
country. Focusing our attention then on Vancouver and setting the scene for the opening of the 
Cellar, the well-paced history lesson continues with a brief look at early jazz in the city before 
closing in on the East End, home to the majority of Vancouver’s working- and lower-class citizens 
and the scene for stories of abject poverty, intensified policing, crime, violence, alcohol prohibition, 
and racialization. The East End was made up of China Town, Japan Town, and Hogan’s Alley which, 
despite being home to many minoritized groups of people, is remembered primarily as a Black 
community. Jago pauses admirably here to discuss the complexities of the anti-Black racism faced 
by the very small number of African Canadians in Vancouver at the time. These are stories 
deserving of volumes on their own, and especially as connected to histories of jazz and the Black 
American Music tradition more generally. 
These stories culminate in a group of young musicians who came together as friends through a hip 
record store and a community big band, friends—much like those I met when I arrived in Vancouver 
some sixty-ish years later—who found that they needed a place to play their music and who 
weren’t interested in waiting around for someone else to provide it. Enthralled with the language of 
bebop and frustrated by an establishment that was less-than-welcoming to them as musicians and 
either uninterested in the kinds of experiments that were inherent in the new music or discouraged 
by the lack of commercial potential they imagined for it, the founders of the Cellar took matters 
into their own hands: they opened the Wailhouse. 
A musical clubhouse in Richmond overlooking the Fraser River, and apparently inundated with the 
intoxicating scent of dogfood from a neighbouring factory, the Wailhouse only lasted about six 
months, but it is where things started for Ken Hole, Al Neil, Dave Quarin, Jim Carney, Tony 
Clitheroe, Jim Johnson, Jim Kilburn, and Walley Lightbody as far as running a space as a collective. 
The demise of the Wailhouse leads to the opening of the Cellar and is also one of my favourite 
moments in the book because it tells a great story about the author. Marian Jago’s sincere passion 
for jazz in Vancouver and across Canada—the music, the people, the histories—is made abundantly 
clear through the remarkable care and extensive research that have gone into this book, including 
some deep archival digging and more than a hundred interviews with sixty-one people over more 
 
CAML REVIEW / REVUE DE L’ACBM  49, NO. 1 (JUNE / JUIN 2021) PAGE 63 
than a decade. Her voice remains accessible and engaging throughout even as it maintains an 
academic remove that can be frustrating at times for this reader, but also, at times, laugh-out-loud 
funny. Far from downtown and inaccessible by transit, susceptible to the noise of large trucks on 
the nearby bridge and crushed by a tree that was toppled in a windstorm, the Wailhouse is coolly 
described as having been “outgrown” by our heroes in an account that crushes all competition in 
the art of understatement. (pp. 63–66) On to the cellar … 
The book’s third section touches briefly on venues whose stories begin in the mid-to-late 1950s: the 
Yardbird Suite in Edmonton, the Foggy Manor in Calgary, and 777 Barrington Street in Halifax, with 
nods to Montréal’s Jazz Workshop and the MINC (Musicians Incorporated Club) in Toronto. Most of 
its pages are dedicated to the scene in Vancouver and the story of the Cellar. Especially in light of 
these other spaces having left significantly less evidence behind for even the most invested 
researcher to explore, this is quite effective. The detailed picture that Jago paints of the book’s 
central example of cooperative artist-run jazz venues in Canada at this time inspires a wealth of 
questions about these other scenes and all that have developed since: Knowing something about 
the personalities at play among the folks who opened the Cellar, for example, opens up questions 
about the interests and priorities of the people who came together to make things happen 
elsewhere: How did those personalities interact? Were their disagreements that made organisers 
part ways so that new and different scenes emerged nearby as there were here? And further, 
where did musical communities blend with writers and poets, painters, and actors, and where did 
they keep to themselves? How were things organized and why, and how effective were the policies 
put in place to make things run smoothly? How did alcohol play a role in the spaces and how did 
organisers and audiences relate to liquor laws? Was there food, like the saran-wrapped sandwiches 
and purportedly awful pizza at the Cellar, and what was it like?   
I have a lot of appreciation for the space that Jago holds for racialized musicians and communities in 
an overwhelmingly white field and for women musicians and community members in an 
overwhelmingly masculine one. How have systems of oppression and politics of identity come to 
bear on other scenes and why? Because Jago has taken the time, for example, to speak with family 
members of the “founding fathers” of the Cellar, we have stories about the women who did much 
of the feminized work that arguably makes or breaks so-called “artist-run” venues, such as taking 
tickets at the door, preparing food, keeping the place clean, organizing childcare, and so on. These 
are important parts of our histories as Canadian musicians, organizers, and music fans. Who are the 
unsung labourers of other scenes and what are their stories? 
That there are significant gaps in the evidence left behind by the Vancouver scene in the ’50s and 
’60s is also a part of this story. The threads that Jago is able to weave together consist of what was 
more likely to leave a mark: shows more likely to have been advertised, written about in Coda 
magazine, or documented by the CBC. They are also the community’s most beloved stories, more 
likely to be well remembered and certainly more likely to come up in interviews with an engaged 
and curious jazz musician and writer so many years on. As such, complicating the case made about 
 
CAML REVIEW / REVUE DE L’ACBM  49, NO. 1 (JUNE / JUIN 2021) PAGE 64 
the underrepresentation of Canadian jazz made in the appendix, this history of the Cellar spends a 
great deal of time recounting tales about the string of American jazz musicians who travelled north 
to play at the club. There were a lot of them, and the joys of thinking through who they were and 
when they visited—and especially of imagining what knowledge and influence they were likely to 
have left behind—are among the many gifts this book provides. But while it would certainly be an 
exaggeration to say that this is their story in any way, I do pine for more stories of what happened 
on the typical Friday night when the club was half full of the usual suspects.  
More than anything, though, I am left wondering what the music sounded like. How did these early 
exponents of Canadian jazz play? How did they interpret, and misinterpret, what they heard on 
their records and on the radio? Whose aesthetic priorities held sway over others? What were the 
artistic tensions and how did they sound? In some of the most engaging interview passages, we 
learn something about the playing styles of bassist Tony Clitheroe and drummer Bill Boyle, but 
these kinds of stories about how the local musicians approached the music are largely missing here. 
It’s a shame that these aren’t the kinds of things that the people who were there were likely to talk 
about in interviews years later. 
Histories of jazz in Canada are woefully underexplored. Live at the Cellar does important work 
helping to tell the story of the music in Vancouver at this foundational moment in the city’s history 
as well as drawing connections with other major Canadian scenes during the same period. It has 
also stoked my own curiosity about artist-run venues that have come, and mostly gone, in the 
intervening years. Because of its unique reach, it would serve as a great introduction for anyone 
curious about the history if this music in Canada: listeners, musicians, scholars, and historians alike. 
To that end, in fact, a section of the appendix dedicated to Canadian Jazz Sources offers a survey of 
other writing on the subject, including the important work of Mark Miller, John Gilmore, and others, 
that provides readers with a list of books to add to the piles on their bedside tables while also 
driving home the point that there really are so many more to research and write.  
I am thankful for this book, grateful for the stories it tells and for those it makes me long to hear. 
And I am hopeful that, in the coming years, a treasure trove of stashed-away boxes filled with 
journals and photos—and tapes!—are discovered in attics across the country and that excellent 
story weavers like Marian Jago can explore their contents and continue the work of telling the 
stories of jazz in Canada with some more of the gaps filled in. In the meantime, I am inspired to 
attend to the stories that I am told in a new way, to spend some time seeking out and listening to 
older recordings of Canadian jazz and creative music, and to get back to the work of making the 
scene as soon as it is safe to gather and play. 


English

Live at the Cellar: Vancouver’s Iconic Jazz Club and the Canadian Co-operative Jazz Scene in  the 1950s and ‘60s – by Marian Jago (Book)

Campbell, Mark V.

Rehumanizing the Archive, Mixtape by Mixtape: Keynote Address presented at the CAML conference, June 8, 2021

Oehlerking, Darrin

 
CAML Review / Revue de l’ACBM  49, no. 2 (December / Décembre 2021)      Page 118 
The Horizon Leans Forward…Stories of Courage, 
Strength, and Triumph of Underrepresented 
Communities in the Wind Band Field, edited by Erik 
Kar Jun Leung. Chicago: GIA Publications Inc, 2021. 
576 pp. ISBN: 978-1-62277-539-2. 
Reviewed by Darrin Oehlerking, University of 
Saskatchewan 
The Horizon Leans Forward is a new resource 
focusing on topics and ideas of equity, diversity, and 
inclusion within the wind band field. The book has 
two specific goals: Part I aims to inform and educate 
readers about the experiences of different 
underrepresented communities within the wind 
band world. Part II provides an annotated 
bibliography of wind band compositions from 
composers who are members of these communities.  
Although this book is published by and generally 
aimed towards Americans, there is Canadian content and influences within this important resource. 
The editor, Erik Kar Jun Leung, is Director of Bands at Oregon State University, but was born and 
raised in Canada. One of the contributors, Robert Taylor, is currently Director of Bands at the 
University of British Columbia, and shares experiences as someone who has lived and worked in 
both Canada and the United States. While many of the references and stories are told through an 
American lens, these stories from, and about, people from underrepresented communities are 
extremely relevant to Canadian classrooms. 
The title of the book comes from a quote from the incomparable American poet, Maya Angelou, 
“The horizon leans forward, Offering you space to place new steps of change.”1 In the introduction 
to the book, Leung poses and answers a few key questions, to set up the overall purpose of this 
resource: 
“Why do we need this book? Whom does it benefit? For what Purpose?” 
“For those who have faced discrimination or prejudice…” (p. 16). 
“For those who bear witness to discrimination and prejudice…” (p. 17). 
 
1 Maya Angelou, “On the Pulse of the Morning,” The Complete Collected Poems of Maya Angelou (New York: 
Random House, 1994), 269-70. 
 
CAML Review / Revue de l’ACBM  49, no. 2 (December / Décembre 2021)      Page 119 
“For those who want to diversify their programming…” (p. 17). 
Part I consists of six chapters written by individual contributors who share their specific journeys 
within the wind band community. These personal and sometimes painful stories are presented 
either as an overall narrative or through an interview of other people with shared experiences. The 
contributors provide first-hand perspectives concerning race (Black and Asian musicians in the 
predominantly white culture of band directors and composers), gender (women in a male-
dominated profession), Queer identities, and the creative process itself.  
All of the chapters are thought-provoking and presented in the contributor’s own unique voice. 
For example, Alfred L. Watkins is a Black band director from Georgia and relays his distinctly African 
American experience within a profession that was, and still is, dominated by white band directors 
and composers. Watkins discusses the painful and disgusting racism he experienced as an African 
American band director in America’s South. His perseverance and strength are evident within this 
chapter. Erik Kar Jun Leung shares his personal struggle with wanting to pursue a career in music 
and not receiving enthusiastic support from his family: “I realized that there was a fine line between 
honoring my parents and following my own dreams” (p. 60). Leung goes on to interview other Asian 
music educators and composers about their journeys into their respective careers in music. The 
individuals he interviews include two composers, a high school band director, and two American 
college band directors.  
Courtney Snider interviews five women with a combined total of 240 years of experience as band 
directors. Shared stories and recollections of female resilience, inspiration, and determination are 
celebrated within this chapter. Her interview subjects include the first woman ever elected to the 
American Bandmasters Association as well as four college band directors. Another chapter that 
celebrates and advocates for strong female perspectives within the artistic community was 
contributed by composer, author, and activist Alex Shapiro. She describes her journey through 
many different advocacy organizations and how it strengthened her resolve to become a composer, 
even though hers was a “non-traditional path” (p. 157). 
In his chapter regarding Queer identity, Robert Taylor’s opening sentence is simple, straightforward, 
and wise, “We are all so much more than the labels we give ourselves or those thrust upon us” (p. 
117). Important discussions can and should be had within our music classrooms surrounding the 
Queer experiences in wind band and music education. This chapter compiled interview questions 
posed to educators and composers to share some of their experiences. The answers will empower, 
inform, and strengthen conversations for students and educators involved in the wind band field. 
The final chapter within Part I is a slightly more abstract exploration of how a wind band 
composition is created, rather than by whom. It is an interesting opinion to include within a book 
dealing with underrepresentation, as author Jodie Blackshaw encourages band directors to consider 
 
CAML Review / Revue de l’ACBM  49, no. 2 (December / Décembre 2021)      Page 120 
repertoire that explores many different aspects of compositional creation and structure, what she 
calls the “compositional/creative approach” (p. 187). It is a unique way to express the fact that most 
of the historical, well-known, and often-played music in the wind band genre was composed by 
“dead white guys.” Nevertheless, she argues, today’s band director can and should choose a 
different path for their ensembles. She weaves her own personal journey of teaching and 
composing through Sa Ta Na Ma – a Kundalini Kirtan Kriya meditation chant “defined as the 
beginning and the whole of existence as ever it was and will be” (p. 185). 
This reviewer, a cisgender, white, male band director, was moved and inspired by the stories 
relayed within these chapters. Simultaneously, many of the deeply personal experiences that the 
authors shared also led to anger and disappointment. While the honesty of a particular contributor 
is challenging within some of these chapters, reading each experience provides more resolve to do 
all that is possible to assist in the advocacy and positive recognition of the incredible diversity 
already present within the wind band community.  
Part II of the book is an annotated bibliography of wind band repertoire written by or attributed to 
people within the aforementioned communities. Leung states in the preamble to this list that it is 
not comprehensive (no list is). Some composers who were contacted chose not to be included for a 
variety of reasons, and the editor respected their wishes. 
Repertoire lists are essential for new and experienced educators and band directors alike as they 
provide concrete recommendations for how to include more diverse music into one’s program. One 
slight disconnect found between the repertoire list in Part II and the chapters in Part I was the lack 
of references to the attributes of the (R)evolution that Jodie Blackshaw presented. Perhaps it is 
because of the subjectivity surrounding the definition of the compositional/creative approach, and 
the fact that it would take an incredible amount of analysis of each piece – time that wasn’t 
available to the editorial team.  
Nevertheless, the annotated bibliography provides fantastic information on works for winds by 
composers of colour, women, non-binary individuals, and those who identify as LGBTQIA2S+. In 
addition to these identifiers, composer information also includes their home country. Thus, for 
Canadian wind band directors searching for quality Canadian content, this list can introduce the 
reader to potentially unknown home-grown compositional talent. 
An important topic in North American institutions is decolonization. This repertoire list identifies 
three pieces that were composed by Indigenous composers. The pieces include Tupulaga Samoa by 
Opelage Ah Sam (New Zealand), Grandmother Song by Brent Michael Davids (USA), and The Magic 
of This Dawn by Christopher Sainsbury (Australia). While none of these composers identify as 
Canadian, these works represent another step in the important conversation with our students and 
colleagues regarding the need to study repertoire by Indigenous composers. 
 
CAML Review / Revue de l’ACBM  49, no. 2 (December / Décembre 2021)      Page 121 
Overall, The Horizon Leans Forward is a worthwhile resource for conductors, educators and pre-
professional music students who are in need of more pragmatic and practical information regarding 
equity, diversity, and inclusion in wind bands and wind band repertoire. The stories and experiences 
shared by the authors are honest and cause the reader to think critically about their relationship 
with the wind band repertoire. 
This book is a resource that will be of specific and particular interest to music educators in the wind 
band field. However, the chapters in this book will also be of interest to others engaged in broader 
aspects of music education. They contain stories and experiences that parallel discussions that are 
happening in classrooms and educational institutions across North America regarding equity, 
diversity, and inclusion. Another important group that should consider reading this book is pre-
professional music education students. The chapters and annotated bibliography will add a wealth 
of information to their university studies and prepare them for experiential learning as student 
teachers and interns within their school placements. 
  
 
  
 
 
 


The Horizon Leans Forward...Stories of Courage, Strength, and Triumph of Underrepresented Communities in the Wind Band Field - edited by Erik Kar Jun Leung (book)

ACBM à 50: album de photos

Carolyn Doi
Rachel Gagnon
Brian McMillanCarolyn Doi
Rachel Gagnon
Brian McMilla

Les membres de l'ACBM réfléchissent (2)

Guise, Janneka

Madill, Kevin

McMillan, Brian

 
CAML REVIEW / REVUE DE L’ACBM  49, NO. 1 (JUNE / JUIN 2021) PAGE 22 
Pandemic Impact:  
Three Managers’ Perspectives 
 
    
 
 
 
Janneka Guise, Director 
University of Toronto Music 
Library 
 
 
Kevin Madill, Music Librarian 
University of British Columbia 
 
 
Brian McMillan, Director 
Music Library, University of 
Western Ontario 
 
 
(1) Did COVID-19 affect your 2020/21 music collections budget? If so, how? 
 
[JG] Our print materials budget was effectively frozen during FY2020/21. This was due partly to the 
uncertainty of enrollment during the pandemic, and partly due to the fact that our technical 
services department remained closed for the entire FY so we could not properly receive materials.  
The President prioritized spending on electronic resources that supported remote teaching and 
learning, and this enabled us to subscribe to some new e-resources e.g., nKoda, RIPM Jazz, ARMA 
from A-R Editions. 
[KM] UBC Library’s collection budget opened progressively over the summer of 2020 to adjust to 
the university’s concerns regarding student enrolment consequent to the pandemic. The Library’s 
Technical Services division continued to operate but in a limited capacity due to staffing restrictions 
imposed by the Provincial Health Services Authority controlling numbers of people in enclosed 
spaces. Initial emphasis was on sustaining and building e-resources essential to support an online 
distance learning environment. By fall, some print purchasing was available. Music collection 
spending remained focused on either temporary subscriptions to new e-resources (e.g., nkoda, 
MaisonOna, Berliner Philharmoniker's Digital Concert Hall) or adding permanent music e-resources 
(e.g., Alexander Street Classical Scores Library: 4 volumes; Oxford Handbooks Online: Music 
Module). 
[BCM] Western’s Music Library acquisitions budget was unaffected by the pandemic; however, the 
focus of spending and the acquisitions process changed dramatically. 
 
CAML REVIEW / REVUE DE L’ACBM  49, NO. 1 (JUNE / JUIN 2021) PAGE 23 
(2) Were there administrative decisions regarding all collections under COVID-19 that 
impacted the music collection specifically?  
 
[KM] Spring of 2020, UBC Library joined the HathiTrust Emergency Temporary Access Service 
(ETAS). The arrangement provides access to e-resources across all academic subject areas, materials 
that would have remained inaccessible to distance students because the library holds copies in print 
format only. However, joining the service has impacted the library’s catalogue. Books and scores 
that UBC Library owns in print that are in the Hathi Trust eBook collection must be made available 
via Hathi Trust only. Bibliographic records for duplicate print copies of HathiTrust e-resources are 
suppressed on the library’s catalogue leaving those copies inaccessible to local patrons preferring 
print and wishing to take advantage of the library’s print delivery service. 
[BCM] Western was a latecomer to HathiTrust ETAS, becoming a member of the organization in 
October 2020 and launching the ETAS even later in the Fall 2020 term. Having been forewarned by 
music library colleagues across the country about Hathi’s lack of success in identifying music scores 
in a member’s collection, I decided to exclude scores from the service. That way, users could 
request a print score from our collection for “curb-side pick-up” rather than try to practice from a 
non-downloadable, non-printable online score. I admit this decision did put at a disadvantage those 
students and faculty who were unable to come to campus. I heard from some Western users 
sheltering across the country who could not access scores online via Western Libraries, could not 
request materials via interlibrary loan (which was suspended during much of the pandemic), and 
had no access to music collections at their local academic institutions (because of a blanket decision 
made by Canadian universities to focus on their primary users, i.e., faculty, students, and staff, 
during a time of reduced capacity).  
In addition, Western did offer another Emergency Temporary Access Service, one of its own 
making, that made all course reserves available online. In collaboration with Scholars Portal, 
Western Libraries arranged to have required readings not available commercially in electronic 
format digitized and uploaded to the official course website in a locked down PDF. This 
arrangement included complete music scores still under copyright. Permission was sought from 
rights holders before any score was digitized.    
 
(3) Were print and electronic resources affected differently? How? 
 
[BCM] With the entire campus shut down for long periods or, at best, partially opened, online 
access became the ruling principle in acquisitions. At the beginning of the pandemic, print 
acquisitions ceased (at Western approval plans were suspended), and later, as campuses began to 
reopen, health & safety measures prevented adequate numbers of staff from coming on campus to 
receive, catalogue, and process new physical items. By the end of 2020, these restrictions eased and 
 
CAML REVIEW / REVUE DE L’ACBM  49, NO. 1 (JUNE / JUIN 2021) PAGE 24 
print shipments resumed. Two subsequent stay-at-home orders (and counting…) have created a 
large backlog and delays in making new titles available to users.  
Western took advantage of the many offers vendors extended to the academic community for a 
limited time. These offers provided increased online access to ebooks, databases, and special 
reference materials (e.g., RIPM Jazz and RILM’s online MGG) to the end of the 2019-2020 academic 
year at least. Western also trialed the score database nkoda, but costs and technical issues made 
even a temporary subscription not feasible.   
 
(4) Did COVID-19 change any of your collections purchasing/acquisition habits, processes? 
 
[KM] Even before the pandemic, I was aware of an interest within the UBC School of Music for e-
scores. However, I am surprised at the usage stats for our e-score collections during the pandemic. 
They are very strong considering the numbers of students on campus and high usage stats for the 
library’s print delivery service. The question going forward is once everyone is back on campus will 
the usage stats for e-scores hold? Making temporary e-score subscriptions permanent post the 
pandemic will require moving funding away from traditional print resources. 
[BCM] Western did not subscribe to any new e-score services. Nonetheless, the pandemic forced 
me to put aside any print book purchases if an ebook were available. While the electronic format is 
technically “preferred” in Western’s approval plans, librarians have the discretion to purchase print. 
The preference of music performers and researchers has traditionally been for print materials. Like 
Kevin, I wonder if the pandemic will mark a shift toward online consumption of music materials.      
 
(5) Were there other factors external to the budget that impacted music collections?  
 
[JG] Our entire technical services department has been closed throughout the pandemic.  
Cataloguers and acquisitions staff are all working remotely, with minimal staff going on site to 
receive new materials.  A massive backlog of new music materials is accruing in the technical 
services department.  Early in 2021, they started shipping new materials to the music library in a 
slow trickle, and music library staff began processing and shelving the new arrivals.  However, the U 
of T Libraries shut down again, completely, in mid-April 2021 due to a spike in COVID cases.  This 
backlog will take many months to clear once the pandemic is over. 
[BCM] We are facing a similar situation at Western. 
[KM] Staffing was definitely an issue with the ordering, receiving and cataloguing staff working 
remotely and unable to address music resources as they once did in-person. However, I work in a 
large, multi-branch library system. Another big issue impacting the music collection is how print 
materials are being returned by patrons to the library. Patrons are returning music materials to the 
 
CAML REVIEW / REVUE DE L’ACBM  49, NO. 1 (JUNE / JUIN 2021) PAGE 25 
closest library branch at hand and not directly to the music branch as was the norm. Not all library 
branches are familiar with handling music resources and some scores are making their way back to 
the music collection with parts missing…or disappearing in the mail altogether. I can see the need to 
run a missing report sometime in 2022 to really gauge the impact of patron behavior and the mail 
delivery system on our music collection. 
 
(6) How did COVID-19 impact access to your collections? How did COVID-19 affect access to 
other services within your library? 
 
[BCM] Western opened its Music Library one week after Labour Day and stayed open until the 
December break. Hours were reduced to four hours per day, Monday to Friday. The collections 
were roped off from the public, reducing the accessible area of the physical space to one-fifth and 
total user capacity to eighteen. To facilitate possible contact tracing, all vIsitors had to register at 
the library entrance with a “concierge.” who would book them in specific spots depending on what 
they wished to do: check out items requested in advance, study, or use the printers and 
photocopiers.  Only Western community members (e.g., faculty, staff, and students) were allowed 
in; no unaffiliated users (musicians in the community, alumni, etc.) had access to the physical 
library.  
A province-wide shutdown beginning on Dec. 26th prevented the Music Library from reopening in 
January, and two months later, when the shutdown ended, health and safety concerns kept the 
Music Library closed. We are currently contemplating a limited reopening of the physical space over 
the summer. Throughout the pandemic, a reduced staff complement have worked on site daily to 
handle online requests for physical items (to be picked up at Western’s central Humanities & Social 
Sciences library), digitization, and reshelving returned items while the rest participate in Western 
Libraries’ regular online services from home.  A date for reopening the collections to the public has 
not yet been determined. 
[KM] Spring of 2020, UBC Library closed its physical spaces to be in compliance with BC Health 
Authority’s regulations. Limited support staff have been allowed to return to their regular work 
environments over time to maintain important services: bookable study space, print materials pick-
up, printing job pick-up, Interlibrary Loan, and book returns for recalled items. Librarian support, 
online workshops, and electronic resource access continue uninterrupted. UBC is planning for a 
return to on-campus instruction and increased levels of on-campus research activity Winter Session, 
Term 1, September 2021. 
[JG] In March 2020 the U of T Libraries shut down completely.  The large humanities, social 
sciences, and science libraries re-opened for curbside pickup and reduced study/computer space  in 
the summer of 2020.  The Music Library re-opened for curbside pickup and reduced 
study/computer space in late August 2020.  We also launched a virtual help desk (via Zoom) and 
 
CAML REVIEW / REVUE DE L’ACBM  49, NO. 1 (JUNE / JUIN 2021) PAGE 26 
improved scheduling for research consultations. While the curbside pick-up service was heavily 
used (with approximately 100 requests a week), the music library study and computer spaces were 
not well used.  In November 2020 we reduced open hours to four hours per day (M-F only), reduced 
on-site staff to one person per day, stopped offering study and computer space and only offered 
curbside pick-up services. The curbside service was used consistently throughout the 2021-21 
academic year with 70-80 requests per week, dwindling to about 40 per week by the end of term in 
April 2021. While staff field dozens of reference and policy questions per week via e-mail, the 
virtual help desk has seen little use.  
 
(7) How did you inform users of changes to your collections and services during the 
pandemic? 
 
[KM] An email collections marketing campaign was initiated in October 2020. The purpose was to 
let the UBC School of Music know that the acquisition of current music publications continued 
unabated by the pandemic and that several e-resources had been added temporarily to support 
teaching, learning, and research. As well, it was hoped that the campaign would boost the usage 
stats of temporary resources so as to support a claim for their permanent acquisition.  
[JG] We started a blog called Notes from the Music Library https://music.library.utoronto.ca/music-
library-blog in the spring of 2020.  Our Music Archivist and Collections Management Librarian write 
the majority of the posts, but other staff contribute regularly.  We use that space to update users 
on changes to services during the pandemic, new acquisitions, and to highlight special collections 
users can view online. We send e-mail notifications of service changes to music faculty and students 
through the Office of the Dean of Music. I make bi-monthly reports on library services and 
collections to Faculty Council, and I write a monthly update for the Student Association newsletter. 
[BCM] I, too, relied heavily on email communication to the Don Wright Faculty of Music community. 
I also delivered updates to the Music Faculty Council via Zoom. As a member of the Western 
Libraries Collections team, I had a hand in creating a few online guides to our expanded ebook 
resources and free pandemic-inspired music websites (e.g., performances). Of course, Western 
Libraries published a COVID-19 information page and released news items regularly.  
 
(8) Did COVID-19 impel you to come up with creative solutions to long-term or immediate 
collections issues? 
 
[JG] One interesting opportunity that came up for us was to re-visit our policies around what 
circulates and what doesn’t circulate. There are many items in our stacks stamped “non-circ” and 
while some of these are obviously expensive or otherwise special items, many of them defy 
explanation as to why they were so marked.  Since only circulatable items are requestable in our 
 
CAML REVIEW / REVUE DE L’ACBM  49, NO. 1 (JUNE / JUIN 2021) PAGE 27 
curbside pickup service we decided to relax our policies somewhat to allow more items to circulate.  
It was a great chance for staff to come together and discuss our service values, why some of these 
legacy decisions were made, and what kind of access we wanted going forward. 
[BCM] Western has a number of non-circulating scores in its general collection. I currently have 3 
trolleys of these fragile items sitting outside my office awaiting their fate! This summer, we will take 
advantage of the closed stacks to select little-used items for transfer to storage. 
[KM] The pandemic has certainly made me aware of the need to circulate some materials 
previously classified as non-circulating. I’d love to open up parts of our music collection for sure. 
However, what would impel a patron to return valuable and unique materials? I have experimented 
with pushing interesting scores out to the circulating stacks only to watch as patrons who sign them 
out refuse to return them. The future of non-circulating materials is tied for me to fines policy. 
Without some process of accountability, do I dare continue to allow irreplaceable non-circulating 
resources circulate as I did during COVID-19? 
(9) Is there anything that you would take away from this unusual year consequent to COVID-
19 into the future re: music collections? 
 
[JG] Music scores continued to be important for our users during the pandemic, but we struggled to 
provide adequate access.  Users expect us to be able to provide a scanning service for scores, yet 
our institution takes such a conservative approach to fair dealing that we cannot provide even legal 
scans.  This must change as we move out of the pandemic.  Our team has some pilot projects in 
mind to pitch to the Chief Librarian regarding scanning public domain scores and moving them to 
our off-site Downsview location.  Then we will consider in-copyright scores and find a way to pilot a 
legal scanning service for these.   
[BCM] I agree with Jan that the pandemic may have finally given musicians and publishers the 
momentum necessary to adopt e-scores broadly. There are still a number of obstacles to overcome 
for libraries to be able to provide scores to all users in a way that balances the rights of composers, 
users, and the distributors (us!). I look forward to witnessing what the future brings.  
[KM] For the collection that I manage, it really feels like the purchase of electronic resources has 
outstripped those in print format by a mile. Very little I’m buying is in print format with the 
exception of music manuscripts and facsimiles...which end up in another branch, Rare Books and 
Special Collections. That’s how I feel today. Will I feel the same way once I’m back in the office in 
September? Will I be so sure that the future here is ‘e’? 


Pandemic Impact: Three Managers' Perspectives

Galarneau, Etienne

Félix Leclerc : Héritage et perspectives – par Luc Bellemare, Jean-Pierre Sévigny et Danick Trottier (Book)

Nevins, Maureen

Message de la Présidente