The music teacher in my high school was rather avant-garde.
Instead of learning to play our instruments in the traditional sense: blowing into them, stroking them with various implements, or smiting them with mallets in some semblance of rhythm and meaning, we tossed them down a flight of stairs to listen to the odd beauty of the cacophony.
The school administration tolerated his madness, and since the instruments were already in bad shape, tossing them down stairs was significantly less expensive than repairs.
It was when he filled in for the drama teacher than they had to let him go.