My folks were rather Puritan in their approach to 'enjoyment' and such, and so disapproved (passively...) to any music. I think they'd tried to see what it was all about at some point, as we had a radiogram, with a 'My Fair Lady' and a 'South Pacific' disk, and another by Kathleen Ferrier, whom my mother liked for having died tragically young, rather than her (undeniable...) musical talent. My father (or was it Santa Claus..?) did get me a reel-to-reel tape recorder (Robuk...) one Christmas, which enabled me to play continuous and diverse music through the night whilst I slept.
At no point, ever, in my various musical ventures, did my parents show any interest nor appreciation, certainly not by attending any of my performances. My father did, however, lend me the cash I needed to get my first 'real' drums (the Camco kit I've played ever since...), and I helped him make the beech and ply flight cases for the kit; needed when I moved to France.
So... Little, or no encouragement, but little or no obstruction. They disapproved my path, but allowed me, grudgingly, to tread it. A fair enough deal, maybe, all things considered.