Can music help in acquiring a new language? What does musicality have to do with meaning? And why is the paralinguistic dimension of communication more important than ever? In this interview, the phonetics teacher in English Philology programme Giedrė Balčytytė sheds light on these questions and shares how the close connection to music enhances her research and teaching skills. ‘Phonetics and phonology allow me to work directly with sound, rhythm and voice, and to help students understand how much meaning is contained beyond words themselves,’ says Dr Balčytytė.

Dr Balčytytė, you have a strong background in music and were training to become a musician. What made you switch to English Studies?

I was born into a family where music was a way of understanding the world. My father was a professor of music and the author of the main school textbooks that were used across the country for more than thirty years, so from childhood music in our home was closely connected with culture, values, beauty and love for our country. We were raised with the idea that music carries identity, memory and that it shapes the inner world of a person.

It was natural that I went to music school, learned instruments, sang for many years in a folklore group and a youth choir. Becoming a musician therefore felt almost unquestionable, just as it did for my sister.

At the same time, I developed a strong passion for languages. I particularly enjoyed writing creative essays in Lithuanian and learned English with ease, supported by my strong musical ear. My school had a special focus on English, which encouraged my progress. Since both of my parents worked at the university, I occasionally helped translate for their international guests. I loved those moments, and I realized that language, much like music, has the power to connect people across cultures and create new spaces of understanding. So, I chose philology for my university studies. I had always been interested in what lies beneath the surface of communication: what is hidden between the lines, how intention is shaped through voice. In a way, this also overlapped with psychology, which I have always been interested in, as I care deeply about the inner dimension of human experience and what shapes interaction.

My studies in English and my later professional work with the language, in a sense, brought all these interests together. They allowed me to remain in the world of sound and voice, while at the same time deepening my connection to culture, thought and emotional depth.

Have you ever had any regrets about your choice?

No, I have never regretted it. English studies turned out to be far broader and deeper than I even initially expected. It was not only about mastering the language, it opened access to literature, culture and different ways of thinking. I have always lived an active cultural life, and philology became one more way of staying inside that cultural space.

However, after completing my bachelor’s and master’s degrees, I became increasingly aware that I missed music as an intellectual field of work. It never disappeared from my life, but I felt the need to return to it academically. That was one of the main reasons why, for my doctoral dissertation, I focused on the relationship between music and language. My research concentrated on suprasegmentals – intonation, rhythm, vocal timbre and all the subtle vocal elements that shape meaning in speech. I analysed how these features relate to musical perception and how they influence language learning on a cognitive level. As part of this work, I created a musical-based teaching model and tested it in schools, particularly with children who showed strong musical aptitude.

Today, teaching English phonetics and phonology at the university, I feel that these two spheres – music and language – finally meet in a very natural way. Phonetics and phonology allow me to work directly with sound, rhythm and voice, and to help students understand how much meaning is contained beyond words themselves.

So no, there has never been regret. On the contrary, I feel that all the choices I made eventually came together into a coherent whole.

What place does music occupy in your life now? Do you sing/play an instrument?

Music still occupies a very large and meaningful place in my life, even though I no longer practise it. I can still play a bit several instruments: the piano, the folk flute, and the Lithuanian folk string instrument “kanklės”. For many years, I participated in several folklore groups, which I only very recently left. I also occasionally join our university’s joint choir projects, though not on a regular basis.

But we do sing in our family for nearly all occasions – during celebrations, on trips by car, at Christmas, and also during the most difficult moments. Folk songs are especially important to us – they have an extraordinary power to calm, comfort and unite. Singing them together feels almost like meditation. Our family children grew up in the same musical atmosphere, and even those who chose professions different from music continue to carry it with them. For example, my daughter graduated in fine arts and fashion, but she also completed serious musical studies and performed as a soloist in a jazz ensemble.

However, I do listen to music a great deal, and I now experience it more as a listener than as a performer.

You wrote several articles on using the musical qualities of language in EFL (English as a Foreign Language) learning. Was your research inspired by your own learning experience?

My research is closely connected with my own experience as a learner. From early childhood, my strongest perceptual channel has always been auditory, and I am convinced that this directly influenced the way I acquired English. I perceived its melody, rhythm, and intonation long before I became consciously aware of grammar or structure.

In my research, I focus on how musical aptitude supports language learning on several cognitive levels: rhythm helps with segmentation and fluency, pitch sensitivity supports intonation, and musical memory strengthens phonological memory. Movement linked to rhythm also improves attention and retention, especially in younger learners. I observed small children in our family and even filmed how they acquired their native language. I often spoke to them in melodic patterns, intuitively, and I saw how deeply they responded to pitch and rhythm long before meaning became verbalised. These early observations later became an important reference point in my academic thinking.

How does having a good ear for pitch help you with your work in the fields of phonetics or teaching English as a foreign language, if it does?

Yes, it helps a great deal. In phonetics, one of the main challenges is teaching students to hear distinctions they were never trained to perceive. A good musical ear allows me to detect very subtle changes in pitch, rhythm, and vocal quality and to guide students in developing the same sensitivity.

Today, pronunciation teaching is less about copying a single standard model. English is now a global language, and meaning is carried not only by individual sounds but by the way the voice functions as a whole. The paralinguistic dimension, like intonation, tempo, pauses, emotional colouring, is becoming increasingly important, especially in real communication.

I often tell my students that the voice is part of their public presence. I am not teaching them to imitate an accent; I am teaching them to communicate meaning through sound. In my classes, I often ask them not to watch a film, but to listen to it and to focus on how voices create meaning beyond words.

My main aim is to help students open their ears and become aware of the expressive power they already possess.

You’ve once shared that the appreciation of poetry has been growing on you over time. Can you tell us more about it?

My relationship with poetry has deepened over time. Poetry invites a slower, more attentive form of listening and reading. I particularly enjoy poetry readings, because hearing poetry aloud changes everything. You become aware of rhythm, pacing, silence and emotional structure. It becomes a form of concentrated communication.

My experience with Shakespeare is a good example. During my studies, reading his texts often felt difficult. But when I first visited the Globe Theatre in London, I finally understood Shakespeare as sound and performance. Hearing the language spoken in its intended space made everything clear – the special rhythm, the humour, the dramatic tension. Since then, my relationship with Shakespeare has changed completely.

What kind of music do you enjoy? Are there genres/composers/pieces that speak to your heart more than others?

My musical taste is broad, but jazz is probably what I follow most closely. I value its freedom, emotional openness and intelligence. I often go to jazz clubs at home and abroad, including world famous places like Ronnie Scott’s that I visit every year in London.

Classical music remains important to me. Folk music, of course, is inseparable from my upbringing and family tradition. I also enjoy well-made contemporary and popular music.

What matters most to me is not the genre itself, but whether the music carries depth and honesty.

If your life were a movie, what would its soundtrack be?

It would be reflective rather than dramatic, built on resonance rather than volume and on depth rather than spectacle. Its tone would be calm and sincere, leaving room for thought and feeling, while carrying a steady rhythm, strong values, clear direction, and quiet confidence beneath the surface.