The man that hath no music in himself, nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils - Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice

Moving, exciting, invigorating, stimulating, exhilarating, elating, refreshing, soothing, comforting, calming. Music is the quintessential dilettante - it can be all things to all people. Balm to moithered minds, fuel of and for the imagination, planting fire in the belly and passion in the heart. But it can also be an elixir that complements the more circuitous routes of healing, bypassing the linguistic baggage that can so often act as a barrier rather than a conduit for convalescence.

Dr Jane Edwards is director of Ireland's first M.A. course in Music Therapy, located in the Irish World Music Centre in the University of Limerick. Housed in the hotbed of musical exploration that is the IWMC, Edwards's course sits cosily alongside no less than eight other postgraduate degrees, (models of lateral thinking all), including M.A. courses in Irish Traditional Music Performance and in Dance Performance (traditional and contemporary dance).

Music may have been harnessed by all manner of creative artists in the past, but its therapeutic benefits have only recently been tapped, at least in this country. However, Dr Edwards has accumulated a considerable body of evidence which supports music therapy as a valid treatment option for a wide range of people, having worked extensively in her home place of Brisbane, Australia.

"Music therapy is the development of a relationship between a therapist and client, or a therapist and group of clients," she explains, "where the goal is to use the relationship to build therapeutic outcomes through a process. And the process always involves music. Where we might think of psychotherapy as having words as the medium that is used, in music therapy we use music as the means by which change occurs."

Edwards cites numerous instances of music therapy's applications in a spectrum of settings, from burns units (where she herself has worked extensively) to client groups as disparate as people with learning disabilities, psychiatric patients and older people experiencing symptoms of dementia. The essence of the therapeutic relationship is the removal of barriers in order to facilitate a change in the person's experience of distress, trauma or pain.

Dr Edwards stresses the transparency of music as a medium, its ability to bypass language being seen as a particular strength in supporting people in need of emotional and/or psychological support. "Music can be the means by which the client communicates feelings and experiences through playing improvised music made up spontaneously in the moment between the therapist and patient, or through such interactions as singing songs or writing music together," she says. "Music therapy is based around successful relationship-building rather than successful music-making. Although music therapy sessions might seem to an outside observer as if they are based around the activities in which the therapist and client are engaged, the focus of the therapy is always on the client's needs and abilities rather than the `activity' of making music."

Edwards is particularly happy that, despite its relative youth (the first five graduates of the M.A. course graduated last year, and the current intake of eight students won't graduate until 2002), music therapy is already increasing in its scope of practice and level of recognition within health services in Ireland. There are currently some 27 music therapists working in Ireland, with many of those having trained in the UK. Music therapists are employed at a number of well-known health services around the country, including full-time posts at Milford Hospice, Limerick, Cheeverstown House and Crumlin Children's Hospital in Dublin, among many others.

One of the current course participants is Tommy Hayes, the bodhran player, percussionist and (neophyte) guitarist and pianist. After years of touring and bringing music to the unlikeliest of corners (schools and hospitals as well as clubs and concert halls), he has decided to roll up his sleeves, both intellectually and musically, and dig deep to see what he might have to offer as a music therapist.

"I'm only in my first year of the course," he remarks, "but what fascinates me is seeing what happens when you work with someone who might be non-verbal. Just because they don't communicate verbally, maybe because of a learning disability, there's no reason why they mightn't communicate musically."

Hayes's musical palette has already expanded exponentially since enrolling last September. Adding piano and guitar to his repertoire, he's finding a whole new vocabulary that has changed the way he hears music. "I suppose I find the improvisational aspect of it easier, because I've worked a lot with jazz musicians, and I'd be fairly familiar with improvisation," he nods. "But I tell you, to sit in front of a bunch of people whom you know are really competent musicians, and play and sing at the same time is not easy by any means!"

Watching Una McInerney, music therapist and course tutor, put the course participants through their paces in a workshop, the therapeutic potential of the music is remarkably tangible. Creating a symphony of voices out of what seems like little more than quiet humming, she guides them through a process of self-exploration that's both gently soothing and deeply exploratory. This is not a course for the faint-hearted, as Tommy Hayes concedes.

"It's incredibly difficult," he says. "You're not a performer any more. The music isn't driven by an aesthetic value. The workload is enormous, between placements, when we work with clients and then assignments. This semester, we have one a week." But the sheer scope and dynamism of the course compensates for the workload, he insists.

"Just the other week we had to video a child", he smiles, "and we had to pick out five one-minute segments and describe them musically. So, for example, if they were running, you might graft a rhythm pattern to their movement. If they were singing, you'd write the notes out. Fascinating."

Hayes has no doubt about the key skills which are essential to making a music therapist. "The real thing is being able to establish a musical relationship with someone," he avers. "So to do that, you use everything at your command. You play the piano or guitar, you sing, whatever it takes to make a connection."

He has already had powerful experiences of seeing how music therapy can offer a radically new approach to working with people with dementia. "There's an enormous amount of literature about music therapy with older people who have lost their ability to function in language terms, but still remember songs," he offers. "I was in a situation with Alzheimer's patients last year, and while they had lost everything else, they still remembered songs. There was a contact made, a social contact."

With his background as a professional musician, Tommy Hayes sees music therapy as a challenging and exciting alternative to professional music, although never a replacement. "I find it fascinating work," he says, "but it's very intense, so I don't think I'd ever work at it full time. In fact a lot of people do it part-time because it's so demanding. It's probably changed the way I approach music in that now, I tend to analyse a lot more the reason why I've done something, musically. It changes the way I look at music, definitely."

slong@irish-times.ie