I remember being interviewed many years ago and was asked, "What is the best kind of music?" It's a trick question, of course, and the interviewer was waiting to pounce on my answer. So I answered, "That's easy. It's the music you listened to in high school." That wasn't the answer she was hoping for. There were no cameras present so she felt free to scowl while I shot her a short smile.
I was thinking of that exchange recently as I listened to some old Andres Segovia recordings. Few people know that name today, but he was a giant in the world of classical guitar during the mid twentieth century.
I came to classical guitar relatively late. I was about 21 and had been a singer. This classical stuff was all new to me. I started to listening to Segovia's recordings along with recordings by Julian Bream and was immediately hooked. I was able to take a couple of lessons but then was on my own. I relied on the recordings, books, sheet music, and the brute force of hours of daily practice.
This was during the seventies and without realizing it, I was riding a rising tide of interest in this music. As I slowly started playing this lovely music, there were others who were playing it and many other new pieces. And they were quite a bit better than me. I felt like I was still trying to catch up. And I felt like I was doomed to be a step or two behind forever.
During my 30 years teaching college another interesting thing happened. The overall technique of the students increased sharply. The songs that I was initially teaching my seniors gradually became the standard for incoming freshmen auditions.
Another thing happened. I began to lose interest in the music. I heard the same pieces played a thousand times by hundreds of different guitarists. I heard new repertoire, recently composed, that left me cold and unmoved. There was the inevitable justification of these pieces, but I honestly didn't care to listen to them. I felt like the art form was rapidly moving forward and I still wasn't able to keep up. Still about two steps behind.
Conversations with colleagues seemed to be about personalities, or styles, or technique, or historical accuracy, or equipment. Who plays what guitar, what strings are being used, etc. I find these conversations to be modestly interesting, but they are subjects for those still building careers. Trying to figure out how the other guy did it. I'm past that stage in my life.
Then I listen to Segovia and realize that the conversations are never about artistry. They're never about love, or beauty, or the simple search for truth. The un-quantifiable stuff. I listen to Segovia and I'm back where I started. Moved by the sheer beauty of the music and totally lost in the moment. This is the reason I wanted to play this music and the experience I wanted to offer an audience.
This is the music that changed the course of my professional life. This is the art that I forsake for the academic. This is my "high school - best music in the world". A reacquainted first love. And I now have the skills to play it. So now I need to work on my artistry.