What a great post.Fretful wrote: ↑Wed Dec 06, 2017 1:01 am...the answer depends entirely on your allegiances. This is further complicated by the fact that if your allegiances are to the paying public, you have no way of knowing what it is exactly that the public actually wants from you. Horowitz is an excellent case in point. I heard him at the RFH (playing his own Steinway) and, to this day, I couldn’t care less how strict or respectful he was to the manuscripts, and I can remember with incredible clarity and vividness the absolute magic with which he bent the keyboard to his will, producing sounds of a fluidity I had not heard before and have not heard since. However, strangely, I find some other brilliant contemporary pianists almost intolerable. Funnily enough, this morning, at around 4:30 am, some guitarists were playing and drinking and chatting, and one of them referred to Segovia as a player who could be quite “crass” (!). Well, I understand what was meant, but when I look back to some of Segovia’s concerts, I have that same Proustian feeling of an experience which, although irretrievably lost, is still present with breath-taking immediacy and enriches my perception of the treasured possibilities offered by a good guitar ; but there is no question that, whenever I went to see him, I heard Segovia, the whole Segovia, and nothing but Segovia ; Scarlatti, I never heard ; Bach, I never heard. Or do I say this only because I have a preconceived idea of what Bach and Scarlatti should sound like ? Yes! But that concept was different in the 1920’s, and it will be different again in the 2020’s. So, we are back to allegiances ; when I play Bach to myself, I play him as I jolly well like, and if I feel like sounding too fruity of a morning, that’s what I’ll do, and I’ll enjoy it! However, if I were to play Bach to a public who have paid good money to hear Bach, then I’ll consider - partly through scholarship, partly through accepted critical analysis of the epoch - what their expectations might be, or to put it crassly, what it is they are paying for ; a tricky question, because how do I know whether they have come to hear Bach or whether they have come to hear me, or whether they have brought a child along to show it how Bach should be played on the guitar. Perhaps there is in all this a bit of a misnomer, though, when one talks of “interpreters” ; the verb “interpret” is too prone to interpretations, I think we are “expressers”, and how much we express is partly a matter of good taste, and that would have to include an audience’s good taste which, some would argue, is nowadays as elusive as Hamlet’s proverbial honest man who, allegedly, would only be one man picked out of ten thousand! Ultimately, whatever you do (provided you are a serious professional [which I happen to know you are]) some will like it and some will like it NOT! ... “To thine own self be true, thou canst not then be false to any man”. The rest is silence ... or noise ... take your pick.
I would suggest that the degree to which a composer or interpreter might wish to try to literally stick to the score's instructions, has been a matter of debate and wide variety of practice since music started being written down. But as a generality, earlier musics (Renaissance, Baroque) would normally be, and have been then, considered relatively fair game for intervention, though even in Classical and Romantic contexts you would also find plenty of instances of people radically changing the score if they saw fit. This does not mean it was a good idea to do so, one point there being the question of whether something being done was also a measure of it being worth doing.pogmoor wrote: ↑Sun Dec 17, 2017 12:26 pmIt's at the back of mind that it was Stravinsky who voiced the view that the score was sacrosanct and that before his time the idea that the score merely suggested how the music might be played was more prevalent. Perhaps someone who is a better music historian than I am might comment?
Dave,davekear wrote: ↑Sun Dec 17, 2017 9:10 pmHere's a guy who ain't slave to nothin. Here's a rare video of Ted Greene teaching baroque improvisation.
For those of you who don't know Ted Greene, here's a treat. Probably the best teacher I ever had.