Vejam qual é a reação do crítico, inteligente mas totalmente desconhecedor de violão. O Marcelo Kayath notou uma coisa importante: em nenhum momento ele fala de força, velocidade ou limpeza, é só a parte artística da apresentação e a sonoridade do violão.
Ou seja, estudar o passado para melhor direcionar o futuro.
Vale lembrar que, em 1928, Segovia já tinha 35 anos de idade, e não havia ainda chaconne, nem Sonata de Castelnuovo-Tedesco, nem Villa-Lobos, nem sonatas de Ponce, nem concertos com orquestra, nem nada. O que ele tocava era essencialmente o repertório de Tarrega.
The fame of Andrés Segovia, the Spanish guitarists whose name has been a prominent one of late years in capitals of Europe, had preceded him. An audience including many Spaniards and many more of the musical connoisseurs of the city greeted him when he made his first appearance yesterday afternoon in Town Hall.
But the appearance of Mr. Segovia is not that of the trumpeted virtuoso. He is rather the dreamer or scholar in bearing, long hair, eyeglasses, a black frock coat and neckwear of an earlier generation. He seats himself, thoughtfully, places his left foot on its rest, strikes a soft chord, then bends over his guitar and proceeds to play like the poet and master he is of the instrument.
Granting a knowledge far greater than this reviewer possesses of the technics of the matter, it would not avail to describe Mr. Segovia’s performance in technical terms. He belongs to the very small group of musicians who by transcendent power of execution, by imagination and intuition create an art of their own that sometimes seems to transform the very nature of their medium. Segovia could be if he chose the trick player of his generation. He draws the tone colors of half a dozen instruments from the one that he plays. He has an extraordinary command of nuances, he seems to discover whole planes of sonority. Although his instrument cannot furnish a genuinely connected series of tones he produces upon it, very frequently, the illusion of sustained song. When he play a melody of Back or Haydn he phrases it, slurring certain notes, detaching the others, according to the directions of the composer. He has, of course, the vibrato and the portamento to help him in expression. He is remarkable, almost unique, for not abusing these effects. His left hand is as amazing to watch as to hear, as it flies with an incredibly light, swift, geometrical precision over the keyboard [sic], or divides passages digitally in such a way that one or two fingers stop the strings while the others play various types of melody or figuration.
We have said that all this command of tone, technique and special effects possible to the instrument are only the vehicles of musical intention on the part of the performer. Mr. Segovia played many pieces from Bach, principally movements from suites, and a Haydn minuet for the classic part of his program. He played Bach like a consummate musician. Th relation between the guitar and the old lute, for which Bach wrote some of his music—probably some of the music Mr. Segovia played yesterday—and the manner in which the instrument of plucked strings became the instrument of struck wires in the final form of the piano, was brought home with especial force of illustration. Nevertheless, the most remarkable of Mr. Segovia’s performances were not those of Back, interpreted with so much taste and musicianship, but the pieces, principally by Spanish masters, composed for the guitar.
The first two of these pieces were the compositions of Sor, who is given little attention by the dictionaries, but who, as stated by the program, lived from 1778 to 1839 an wrote music excellent in style and dignified in invention. There was a haunting simplicity and sentiment in the performance, which was of a jeweled finish and gracefulness of figuration. And the eighteenth century flavor was emphasized by the idiom of the instrument.
More native in character, and of the Spanish genre, were the "Serenata" of Malats, the "Danza" and "Etude" of Tarrega. Each of these compositions made different demands; each revealed another side of the performer’s equipment. It was here that he proved beyond contraction the right of his instrument and of himself as a performer and creator upon it, to the attention and the respect of all music lovers. For with certain instruments, as with much music, the appearance of the master, with his handicraft and his vision, is required, before that which is inherent can be brought to life and become articulate for the multitude.
Saying all this, it must be added that Mr. Segovia did not and cannot succeed in removing the limitations which will always surround his instrument. he has stretched these limitations to the utmost. He has far outdistanced in his knowledge and his musical conceptions the ordinary twanger of strings. Nevertheless, the guitar remains the guitar, with limits of sonority, color, dynamics. These limitations make Bach less impressive through its medium than on the piano or harpsichord. They reach their utmost effect and their entire significance in music less sculpturesque and contrapuntal than Bach's and with warmer harmony and more elementary rhythms. Hence Mr. Segovia's audience was most enthusiastic when he played his own Spanish music in a way that revealed its essence of spirit and idiom.
This was an unusually significant appearance, and the first of concerts that Mr. Segovia will give here. His reception should have gratified him. A New York audience has seldom been quicker or warmer with its approval.
Crítica da estreia de Segovia em Nova York, 1928
Criado por FZanon, 16 Jul 2010 10:24
10 respostas neste tópico
#1
Postado 16 julho 2010 - 10:24
#2
Postado 16 julho 2010 - 12:08
"The first two of these pieces were the compositions of Sor, who is given little attention by the dictionaries, but who, as stated by the program, lived from 1778 to 1839 an wrote music excellent in style and dignified in invention."
Essa é a impressão que a música de Sor causou no crítico. Não poderia ser diferente mesmo.
"He has, of course, the vibrato and the portamento to help him in expression. He is remarkable, almost unique, for not abusing these effects. His left hand is as amazing to watch as to hear, as it flies with an incredibly light, swift, geometrical precision over the keyboard"
Além da técnica indiscutivelmente superior, Segovia também impressionava pela plasticidade dos movimentos das mãos.
A julgar pelo que ele pensava quanto a fazer caretas ao tocar (era totalmente contra o não controle das expressões faciais) ele também se preocupava com este aspecto. Ou talvez as mãos dele ficassem naturalmente bonitas no instrumento.
A musicalidade do intérprete, no final das contas é o que mais importa. Na revista concerto do mês passado, há uma matéria sobre a pianista brasileira Guiomar Novaes.
Nesta matéria, me chamou a atenção a impressão que Debussy teve ao ouvir Guiomar, então com quinze anos, tocando uma balada de Chopin, no concurso do conservatório de Paris, onde ela ficou em primeiro lugar entre mais de 300 concorrentes.
Ele ficou tão comovido que pediu a ela que tocasse novamente.
Essa é a impressão que a música de Sor causou no crítico. Não poderia ser diferente mesmo.
"He has, of course, the vibrato and the portamento to help him in expression. He is remarkable, almost unique, for not abusing these effects. His left hand is as amazing to watch as to hear, as it flies with an incredibly light, swift, geometrical precision over the keyboard"
Além da técnica indiscutivelmente superior, Segovia também impressionava pela plasticidade dos movimentos das mãos.
A julgar pelo que ele pensava quanto a fazer caretas ao tocar (era totalmente contra o não controle das expressões faciais) ele também se preocupava com este aspecto. Ou talvez as mãos dele ficassem naturalmente bonitas no instrumento.
A musicalidade do intérprete, no final das contas é o que mais importa. Na revista concerto do mês passado, há uma matéria sobre a pianista brasileira Guiomar Novaes.
Nesta matéria, me chamou a atenção a impressão que Debussy teve ao ouvir Guiomar, então com quinze anos, tocando uma balada de Chopin, no concurso do conservatório de Paris, onde ela ficou em primeiro lugar entre mais de 300 concorrentes.
Ele ficou tão comovido que pediu a ela que tocasse novamente.
Forte abraço.
#3
Postado 16 julho 2010 - 12:48
Ai ai ai... bons tempos!
#4
Postado 16 julho 2010 - 13:15
E tem outra: imaginem a coragem e a fé dele, se expondo com um instrumento sem repertório, sem tradição em salas de concerto, e fazendo acontecer. Na década de 20 ele foi ao Japão, onde ninguém ia! Um brinde à memória do Velho!
#5
Postado 16 julho 2010 - 14:16
Percebe-se por essa critica a estupenda e maravilhosa impressão que o Segovia causava ao vivo. E o detalhe é que que ele realmente conseguiu traduzir em letras/redigidas, muitas das essenciais qualidades do Segovia, inclusive do vibrato singular do velhinho. Concordo com ele a Serenata Espanhola do Malats em audio do Segovia já é um vislumbre imagine ao vivo.
*Em síntese se eu estivesse lá, diria que Deus enviou um anjo para tocar para os homens Hehehe. Para mim existiram, e existirão inumeros musicos competentes, mas Segovia só um. O camarada não era uma copia, ele era originalissimo. Uma fonte poetica e inspiradora ao violão. Seus sons são acordes divinos.
*Viva Segovia! Valeu Zanon pela entrevista postada. Massa!
*Em síntese se eu estivesse lá, diria que Deus enviou um anjo para tocar para os homens Hehehe. Para mim existiram, e existirão inumeros musicos competentes, mas Segovia só um. O camarada não era uma copia, ele era originalissimo. Uma fonte poetica e inspiradora ao violão. Seus sons são acordes divinos.
*Viva Segovia! Valeu Zanon pela entrevista postada. Massa!
Licenciatura em Musica - 2012 na FACESA - Matriculado
Estudando Violão com profº Gilson Santana da classe de Mário Ulloa.
#6
Postado 16 julho 2010 - 17:17
QUOTE(FZanon @ Jul 16 2010, 11:24 AM) <{POST_SNAPBACK}>
Vejam qual é a reação do crítico, inteligente mas totalmente desconhecedor de violão. O Marcelo Kayath notou uma coisa importante: em nenhum momento ele fala de força, velocidade ou limpeza, é só a parte artística da apresentação e a sonoridade do violão.
Ou seja, estudar o passado para melhor direcionar o futuro.
Vale lembrar que, em 1928, Segovia já tinha 35 anos de idade, e não havia ainda chaconne, nem Sonata de Castelnuovo-Tedesco, nem Villa-Lobos, nem sonatas de Ponce, nem concertos com orquestra, nem nada. O que ele tocava era essencialmente o repertório de Tarrega.
The fame of Andrés Segovia, the Spanish guitarists whose name has been a prominent one of late years in capitals of Europe, had preceded him. An audience including many Spaniards and many more of the musical connoisseurs of the city greeted him when he made his first appearance yesterday afternoon in Town Hall.
But the appearance of Mr. Segovia is not that of the trumpeted virtuoso. He is rather the dreamer or scholar in bearing, long hair, eyeglasses, a black frock coat and neckwear of an earlier generation. He seats himself, thoughtfully, places his left foot on its rest, strikes a soft chord, then bends over his guitar and proceeds to play like the poet and master he is of the instrument.
Granting a knowledge far greater than this reviewer possesses of the technics of the matter, it would not avail to describe Mr. Segovia’s performance in technical terms. He belongs to the very small group of musicians who by transcendent power of execution, by imagination and intuition create an art of their own that sometimes seems to transform the very nature of their medium. Segovia could be if he chose the trick player of his generation. He draws the tone colors of half a dozen instruments from the one that he plays. He has an extraordinary command of nuances, he seems to discover whole planes of sonority. Although his instrument cannot furnish a genuinely connected series of tones he produces upon it, very frequently, the illusion of sustained song. When he play a melody of Back or Haydn he phrases it, slurring certain notes, detaching the others, according to the directions of the composer. He has, of course, the vibrato and the portamento to help him in expression. He is remarkable, almost unique, for not abusing these effects. His left hand is as amazing to watch as to hear, as it flies with an incredibly light, swift, geometrical precision over the keyboard [sic], or divides passages digitally in such a way that one or two fingers stop the strings while the others play various types of melody or figuration.
We have said that all this command of tone, technique and special effects possible to the instrument are only the vehicles of musical intention on the part of the performer. Mr. Segovia played many pieces from Bach, principally movements from suites, and a Haydn minuet for the classic part of his program. He played Bach like a consummate musician. Th relation between the guitar and the old lute, for which Bach wrote some of his music—probably some of the music Mr. Segovia played yesterday—and the manner in which the instrument of plucked strings became the instrument of struck wires in the final form of the piano, was brought home with especial force of illustration. Nevertheless, the most remarkable of Mr. Segovia’s performances were not those of Back, interpreted with so much taste and musicianship, but the pieces, principally by Spanish masters, composed for the guitar.
The first two of these pieces were the compositions of Sor, who is given little attention by the dictionaries, but who, as stated by the program, lived from 1778 to 1839 an wrote music excellent in style and dignified in invention. There was a haunting simplicity and sentiment in the performance, which was of a jeweled finish and gracefulness of figuration. And the eighteenth century flavor was emphasized by the idiom of the instrument.
More native in character, and of the Spanish genre, were the "Serenata" of Malats, the "Danza" and "Etude" of Tarrega. Each of these compositions made different demands; each revealed another side of the performer’s equipment. It was here that he proved beyond contraction the right of his instrument and of himself as a performer and creator upon it, to the attention and the respect of all music lovers. For with certain instruments, as with much music, the appearance of the master, with his handicraft and his vision, is required, before that which is inherent can be brought to life and become articulate for the multitude.
Saying all this, it must be added that Mr. Segovia did not and cannot succeed in removing the limitations which will always surround his instrument. he has stretched these limitations to the utmost. He has far outdistanced in his knowledge and his musical conceptions the ordinary twanger of strings. Nevertheless, the guitar remains the guitar, with limits of sonority, color, dynamics. These limitations make Bach less impressive through its medium than on the piano or harpsichord. They reach their utmost effect and their entire significance in music less sculpturesque and contrapuntal than Bach's and with warmer harmony and more elementary rhythms. Hence Mr. Segovia's audience was most enthusiastic when he played his own Spanish music in a way that revealed its essence of spirit and idiom.
This was an unusually significant appearance, and the first of concerts that Mr. Segovia will give here. His reception should have gratified him. A New York audience has seldom been quicker or warmer with its approval.
Ou seja, estudar o passado para melhor direcionar o futuro.
Vale lembrar que, em 1928, Segovia já tinha 35 anos de idade, e não havia ainda chaconne, nem Sonata de Castelnuovo-Tedesco, nem Villa-Lobos, nem sonatas de Ponce, nem concertos com orquestra, nem nada. O que ele tocava era essencialmente o repertório de Tarrega.
The fame of Andrés Segovia, the Spanish guitarists whose name has been a prominent one of late years in capitals of Europe, had preceded him. An audience including many Spaniards and many more of the musical connoisseurs of the city greeted him when he made his first appearance yesterday afternoon in Town Hall.
But the appearance of Mr. Segovia is not that of the trumpeted virtuoso. He is rather the dreamer or scholar in bearing, long hair, eyeglasses, a black frock coat and neckwear of an earlier generation. He seats himself, thoughtfully, places his left foot on its rest, strikes a soft chord, then bends over his guitar and proceeds to play like the poet and master he is of the instrument.
Granting a knowledge far greater than this reviewer possesses of the technics of the matter, it would not avail to describe Mr. Segovia’s performance in technical terms. He belongs to the very small group of musicians who by transcendent power of execution, by imagination and intuition create an art of their own that sometimes seems to transform the very nature of their medium. Segovia could be if he chose the trick player of his generation. He draws the tone colors of half a dozen instruments from the one that he plays. He has an extraordinary command of nuances, he seems to discover whole planes of sonority. Although his instrument cannot furnish a genuinely connected series of tones he produces upon it, very frequently, the illusion of sustained song. When he play a melody of Back or Haydn he phrases it, slurring certain notes, detaching the others, according to the directions of the composer. He has, of course, the vibrato and the portamento to help him in expression. He is remarkable, almost unique, for not abusing these effects. His left hand is as amazing to watch as to hear, as it flies with an incredibly light, swift, geometrical precision over the keyboard [sic], or divides passages digitally in such a way that one or two fingers stop the strings while the others play various types of melody or figuration.
We have said that all this command of tone, technique and special effects possible to the instrument are only the vehicles of musical intention on the part of the performer. Mr. Segovia played many pieces from Bach, principally movements from suites, and a Haydn minuet for the classic part of his program. He played Bach like a consummate musician. Th relation between the guitar and the old lute, for which Bach wrote some of his music—probably some of the music Mr. Segovia played yesterday—and the manner in which the instrument of plucked strings became the instrument of struck wires in the final form of the piano, was brought home with especial force of illustration. Nevertheless, the most remarkable of Mr. Segovia’s performances were not those of Back, interpreted with so much taste and musicianship, but the pieces, principally by Spanish masters, composed for the guitar.
The first two of these pieces were the compositions of Sor, who is given little attention by the dictionaries, but who, as stated by the program, lived from 1778 to 1839 an wrote music excellent in style and dignified in invention. There was a haunting simplicity and sentiment in the performance, which was of a jeweled finish and gracefulness of figuration. And the eighteenth century flavor was emphasized by the idiom of the instrument.
More native in character, and of the Spanish genre, were the "Serenata" of Malats, the "Danza" and "Etude" of Tarrega. Each of these compositions made different demands; each revealed another side of the performer’s equipment. It was here that he proved beyond contraction the right of his instrument and of himself as a performer and creator upon it, to the attention and the respect of all music lovers. For with certain instruments, as with much music, the appearance of the master, with his handicraft and his vision, is required, before that which is inherent can be brought to life and become articulate for the multitude.
Saying all this, it must be added that Mr. Segovia did not and cannot succeed in removing the limitations which will always surround his instrument. he has stretched these limitations to the utmost. He has far outdistanced in his knowledge and his musical conceptions the ordinary twanger of strings. Nevertheless, the guitar remains the guitar, with limits of sonority, color, dynamics. These limitations make Bach less impressive through its medium than on the piano or harpsichord. They reach their utmost effect and their entire significance in music less sculpturesque and contrapuntal than Bach's and with warmer harmony and more elementary rhythms. Hence Mr. Segovia's audience was most enthusiastic when he played his own Spanish music in a way that revealed its essence of spirit and idiom.
This was an unusually significant appearance, and the first of concerts that Mr. Segovia will give here. His reception should have gratified him. A New York audience has seldom been quicker or warmer with its approval.
Actually, Segovia performed Ponce "Sonata clasica" for a while, declaring it as a Sor work, - the "Weiss" was not the only trick he played to reviewers.
dralig
#7
Postado 16 julho 2010 - 17:51
"[left hand] divides passages digitally in such a way that one or two fingers stop the strings while the others play various types of melody or figuration."
O crítico é bom e teve q falar de um artista q dominava completamente seu métier, eu acho é aquela coisa do instrumento sumir e as dificuldades técnicas nem darem sinal de vida; a gente tem a evidência de q ele, o crítico, nunca tinha visto antes the guitar completamente controlada, de tal forma q nenhuma - mas nenhumazinha nota NÃO tenha sido meticulosamente escolhida para tocar. O Velho fazia isso tão bem q qualquer um discerne facilmente esse controle apenas ouvindo.
O crítico é bom e teve q falar de um artista q dominava completamente seu métier, eu acho é aquela coisa do instrumento sumir e as dificuldades técnicas nem darem sinal de vida; a gente tem a evidência de q ele, o crítico, nunca tinha visto antes the guitar completamente controlada, de tal forma q nenhuma - mas nenhumazinha nota NÃO tenha sido meticulosamente escolhida para tocar. O Velho fazia isso tão bem q qualquer um discerne facilmente esse controle apenas ouvindo.
#8
Postado 17 julho 2010 - 03:44
[quote name='Bicalho' date='Jul 16 2010, 22:51 PM' post='125833']
"[left hand] divides passages digitally in such a way that one or two fingers stop the strings while the others play various types of melody or figuration."
Tenho a impressão de isso ser a descrição de uma pestana...
"[left hand] divides passages digitally in such a way that one or two fingers stop the strings while the others play various types of melody or figuration."
Tenho a impressão de isso ser a descrição de uma pestana...
#9
Postado 18 julho 2010 - 11:19
Um deleite ler isso..... o cara não só reconhece o fenômeno que foi o Segóvia mas reconhece toda a potencialidade do violão que o mesmo defende. Essa poética do violão é que hoje passa batida... absurdamente existem músicos que não escutam.
O Segóvia quando estreiou aqui no Canadá, muito depois dos EUA, na década de 70, fez história... O teatro da capital, O NAC de Ottawa, teve que de improviso receber mais trocentos acentos para conter a multidão que queria escutá-lo. Detalhe interessante é que a grande maioria desse público, destaca a notícia do jornal com espanto, eram de jovens na casa dos 25 anos de idade.
O Segóvia quando estreiou aqui no Canadá, muito depois dos EUA, na década de 70, fez história... O teatro da capital, O NAC de Ottawa, teve que de improviso receber mais trocentos acentos para conter a multidão que queria escutá-lo. Detalhe interessante é que a grande maioria desse público, destaca a notícia do jornal com espanto, eram de jovens na casa dos 25 anos de idade.
#10
Postado 20 julho 2010 - 13:20
QUOTE(FZanon @ Jul 16 2010, 10:24 AM) <{POST_SNAPBACK}>
Vale lembrar que, em 1928, Segovia já tinha 35 anos de idade, e não havia ainda chaconne, nem Sonata de Castelnuovo-Tedesco, nem Villa-Lobos, nem sonatas de Ponce, nem concertos com orquestra, nem nada. O que ele tocava era essencialmente o repertório de Tarrega.
Certeza?
O Themé Varié não foi escrito em 26? A sonata mexicana em 25, a sonata III em 27 e a sonata clásica em 28?
(como lembrou o Gilardino, o Sor poderia ser a sonata clássica)












