The music project helping dementia patients find their voice during lockdown

Until March, the Manchester Camerata Orchestra had been bringing music, improvisation and joy into the lives and hearts of care home residents, including those with dementia, via its award-winning Music in Mind project for eight years. Its nine musicians and two music therapists had delivered 15 weekly sessions in 20 local residential homes. Then Covid struck, followed by lockdown, and Music in Mind stopped, much to the dismay of everyone involved, including the 300 participating residents. But the Camerata is now piloting a remote resource offering backing tracks, Zoom feedback, extra activities and mentoring, so care staff can continue the vital, interactive work.

Karen Sykes is the activities’ co-ordinator at one of the eight care homes piloting MiM remote. It has allowed her to keep up the music twice weekly on her own at Cleggsworth House in Littleborough, Rochdale. She enhances some of the residents’ experience with her new, self-taught ukulele skills. For Sykes, the remote platform and online weekly support are a blessing.

“This package has come at the right time. I had run out of ideas. Some residents were deteriorating. But now, using MiM percussion instruments we can accompany the Camerata’s recordings – their jigs, rock’n’roll and tangos. Everyone’s spirits, including mine, have been lifted. Whenever a face lights up, whenever someone who rarely gets involved joins in the music, when families say we’ve improved the quality of life of their loved one, the feeling we get is unbelievable,” says Sykes.

One daughter with both parents in the care home attributes not only their wellbeing but also her own to MiM. “It’s not just a matter of mental stimulation for people with memory loss, but their enjoyment of the music and giving some purpose to the day that is so uplifting,” she explains. When her mother died recently, she says family and friends collected money for musical instruments “so residents still have something musical in her memory”.

Each of the home’s activity leaders is adapting the remote MiM project to their own capabilities in-house and then checking in online for live feedback and advice. Some sessions are one-to-one in the resident’s own room, but where permissible, socially distanced sessions for up to 10 people are still set up in the round in a lounge. These are topped and tailed with the familiar Hello and Goodbye songs that participants, therapists and musicians co-created before Covid.

Taking responsibility for musical activities has improved the confidence of care staff. One care worker says, “We were sceptical at first but it’s been a learning experience, a team effort. Tuesday morning is now for music making.”

Obviously, care workers do not possess the artistic prowess of professional therapists and academy-trained musicians. But MiM is neither about performance, nor entertainment, nor about endless practice to hone one’s technical skills. It’s about “the moment” – the “magic” moment when improvisation takes over, say the musicians and therapists.

For anyone who has seen the video of a former ballerina with Alzheimer’s that went viral last week, the role of music in memory is clear. It’s about its power; the power of music to stimulate those with dementia into sensing the presence of others and then feel spurred to react. Response to the music – be it a sound, a finger tap, a nod, a song, a wave, a smile, a shout or a dance – is participation. Quick to spot any stirring, the therapist takes the lead. The musician present – the horn player, percussionist, cellist, tuba player, flautist or the pianist – takes that response forward and encourages others in the circle to follow.

Brigitte Schwarting, an MiM therapist, recalls a woman, without verbal communication who, inspired by the music, always got up to dance. Towards the end of the project, says Schwarting, she rose as usual, then moving round the entire circle, touched each person gently on the head or face in an unspoken but definite gesture of love and affection.

The project’s strength lies in its instant impact on those with dementia. With many care homes closed to visitors during lockdown, residents have been deprived of family contact, so music can be a lifeline.

In 2018, Camerata-funded research by Robyn Dowlen at Manchester University found an increase in the social, communication and musical skills of 90% of its participants and a decrease in their anxiety, agitation and repetitive behaviours. Relationships and moods improved, too, often resulting in adjustments to medication.

Musicians’ reasons for their involvement vary. Some have experience of dementia in the family. Camerata horn player Naomi Atherton saw a use for her skills away from the concert hall. Principal flautist Amina Hussain retrained to double as a music therapist. But every one admits to being repeatedly moved, surprised and rewarded.

Bob Riley, the CEO of Camerata, says: “Music in Mind is about making a difference where it’s needed most – with carers and in care homes. The musical and human skills of our region’s fantastic musicians have made this all possible.”

Lizzie Hoskin, the head of community at Camerata, hopes that if there can be any positive legacy from Covid it will be that future MiM projects will blend live and online training that will allow it to expand its reach far beyond Manchester. She says: “This way, we can extend the programme nationally and have a trained carer in every county. We want to offer a certified course, giving care workers credit and something to show for their achievements.”

In the meantime, tuba player Ryan Breen cannot wait to get back into the homes. He says: “You cannot underestimate the power of building a group of people.”

• Fay Wertheimer is a writer, musician-manager of a flute and strings quintet, retired special needs teacher and volunteer