Particularity, Objectivity, Subjectivity, Peculiarity
Particularity/Objectivity/Subjectivity/Peculiarity…Matthew Neugebauer wrote:
<< So how exactly is the expression expressed where all of the expression is notated? In the other extreme as in Bach's case, how is the expression expressed where there is no indication? >>
to give my two cents on the question, let me introduce another extreme:
academia or complete subjectivity on the conductor's part. I think where an ensemble/conductor claims to be should determine where he/she/they is/are on this continuum. If someone or an ensemble claims to be HIP, then they should lean toward academia: it takes a lot of homework to try and figure out an approximation of a period performance, however: one should never, and I repeat never base things solely on the books-I think it was Tom that said either on this list or the BMCL that the most important thing is musical excellence, which still requires some subjectivity, and this lack of subjectivity is really what Harnoncourt is being accused of. However, if a conductor/performer doesn't claim to be HIP, then we still have the question: is complete subjectivity ok? I think that perhaps in Romantic music onward, to be very subjective is probably the correct way (if there is such a thing) to interpret this music, because Romantic music is based on pure emotion anyways-in this case its just a question of intuition really, of the ability to intuit what emotion(s) is(are) being communicated through the music. With Mahler, I guess all his directions are part of his musical communication!
Bradley Lehman wrote (January 24, 2003):
[To Matthew Neugebauer] Matthew, you raise some interesting points here.
First off, though, let's look at that dangerous word "subjective". It can scarcely be used in a clear manner because it is its own antonym! The word "objective" is also problematic....
1 : of, relating to, or constituting a subject : as a obsolete : of, relating to, or characteristic of one that is a subject especially in lack of freedom of action or in submissiveness
b : being or relating to a grammatical subject; especially :
2 : of or relating to the essential being of that which has substance, qualities, attributes, or relations
3 a : characteristic of or belonging to reality as perceived rather than as independent of mind : PHENOMENAL -- compare OBJECTIVE 1b
b : relating to or being experience or knowledge as conditioned by personal mental characteristics or states
4 a (1) : peculiar to a particular individual : PERSONAL <subjective judgments> (2) : modified or affected by personal views, experience, or background <a subjective account of the incident>
b : arising from conditions within the brain or sense organs and not directly caused by external stimuli <subjective sensations>
c : arising out of or identified by means of one's perception of one's own states and processes <a subjective symptom of disease> -- compare OBJECTIVE 1c
5 : lacking in reality or substance : ILLUSORY
1 a : relating to or existing as an object of thought without consideration of independent existence -- used chiefly in medieval philosophy
b : of, relating to, or being an object , phenomenon, or condition in the realm of sensible experience independent of individual thought and perceptible by all observers : having reality independent of the mind <objective reality> <our reveries... are significantly and repeatedly shaped by our transactions with the objective world --
Marvin Reznikoff> -- compare SUBJECTIVE 3a
c of a symptom of disease : perceptible to persons other than the affected individual -- compare SUBJECTIVE 4c
d : involving or deriving from sense perception or experience with actual objects , conditions, or phenomena <objective awareness> <objective data>
2 : relating to, characteristic of, or constituting the case of words that follow prepositions or transitive verbs
3 a : expressing or dealing with facts or conditions as perceived without distortion by personal feelings, prejudices, or interpretations <objective art> <an objective history of the war> <an objective judgment>
b of a test : limited to choices of fixed alternatives and reducing subjective factors to a minimum
In this dictionary, the oldest meanings are first, and the newest meanings are last.
The word "subjective" battles against itself: definitions 2 and 3 say it is a grounding in substantial reality as opposed to a [platonic] ideal, and then definition 5 negates that to say that a "subjective" thing lacks reality or substance! Everyone constructs his own reality to some extent, by perception; if one person perceives something, it "subjectively" exists for him, and we don't know one way or the other if it exists for anyone else. Note also that in the oldest definition, a "subjective" thing *lacks* freedom of action.
And an "objective" thing is perceivable by others without the mediation of one's own personal feelings...but it also (by implication) might not "really" exist if it cannot be perceived. [We have no way to know if it exists or not if it is not measurable in the awareness of more than one person.] So, perception is required.
Let's also look at...
Etymology: Middle English peculier, from Latin peculiaris of private property, special, from peculium private property, from pecu cattle; akin to Latin pecus cattle -- more at FEE
Date: 15th century
1 : characteristic of only one person, group, or thing : DISTINCTIVE
2 : different from the usual or normal: a : SPECIAL, PARTICULAR b : ODD, CURIOUS c : ECCENTRIC, QUEER
synonym see CHARACTERISTIC, STRANGE
A "peculiar" thing is the private property (or experience?) of one person and is therefore differentiated from all other similar things. My border collie is "peculiar" because she belongs to me (and vice versa); I can differentiate her from all other border collies, and she can differentiate me from all other humans. But the word's meaning has changed; if I say she is "peculiar" people just think I'm saying I have a weird dog.
So, let's try...
Etymology: Middle English particuler, from Middle French, from Late Latin particularis, from Latin particula small part Date: 14th century
1 : of, relating to, or being a single person or thing <the particular person I had in mind>
2 obsolete : PARTIAL
3 : of, relating to, or concerned with details <gave us a very particular account of the trip>
4 a : distinctive among other examples or cases of the same general category : notably unusual <suffered from measles of particular severity>
b : being one unit or element among others <particular incidents in a story>
5 a : denoting an individual member or subclass in logic
b : affirming or denying a predicate to a part of the subject – used of a proposition in logic <"some men are wise" is a particular affirmative>
6 a : concerned over or attentive to details : METICULOUS <a very particular gardener>
b : nice in taste : FASTIDIOUS
c : hard to please : EXACTING
synonym see CIRCUMSTANTIAL, SPECIAL
That word does pretty well, not contradicting itself so much. An individual thing is differentiated from all similar things; it is a specific case of some more general reality. The details make a "particular" thing stand out rather than being generic. It is unusual, un-usual.
I have a particular border collie. She exists objectively; anyone who has been to my house knows from his own perception that this dog is here. She exists subjectively to me: I perceive that I have a dog and that she seems real enough to me. Her peculiar/particular features (manner, spots, pattern, etc) belong to her and I can use them to differentiate her from all other border collies; they make her perceivably unique.
Where is this going? To music, and to use of the word "particular"!
The art of musical communication (whether composition or performance) is to have something particular to say: something appropriate to the set of circumstances at hand. This particular day, this particular audience, this particular composition, this particular instrument or singer, thiparticular meaning (or form) that is to be conveyed. It is all contextual. The formal structure and details are chosen and balanced in such a way that the listeners will get something out of it, on this particular occasion.
If there is not enough structure (or, a clear enough structure), the presentation makes no sense. The listener cannot follow the flow of ideas in any coherent manner.
If there is not enough detail, "peculiar" detail to that particular performance on this particular occasion, the music is generic and really isn't saying much. Anything it communicates is merely a vague generality. The listener, especially if he has heard this composition before, has few compelling reasons to listen or to stay awake. He knows how it's going to go, no surprises, no new delights he didn't notice before.
What holds these together in an effective balance? It is the composer's and performer's skill, the craft of projecting the right amount of structure and detail, the craft of keeping the listener engaged. It is the skill of turning a generic idea (this selected set of notes, the raw material) into particular communication, so it stands out from all other possible presentations of that same material.
That is an "objective" skill of making the music sound "subjective" or "particular" or "peculiar"! It is not done merely by projecting one set of "subjective" feelings into the work, although that does contribute something. At its best, this "objective" skill is mostly hard work: careful analysis and preparation, background knowledge (to know first what's generic so one can then make the present task stand out from it), experimentation to find out what communicates and what does not. The performer/composer who is musically communicative is using all his craftsmanship to create something that has meaning, i.e. something "particular," something "peculiar" to this occasion, something "subjective" in the sense of existing here and now in reality. (A real experience, "objectively" perceivable by multiple listeners, not just some platonic ideal about the music.)
This "objective" skill of musical communication is a process of bringing out the best things one perceives in the work, for the most part undistorted by "personal feelings, prejudices, or interpretations." Some ways of playing a phrase are more communicative than other ways of playing that same phrase. This can be determined in ways beyond mere feeling, and practiced as a craft, a skill.
But feelings are also important, the notion of play on top of all that objective expression. As the Duke and Irving Mills tell us in their song, "It don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing." The performer (or composer) feels it, or he doesn't. The feeling
enriches the interpretation, the particularity. But, more importantly than the artist feeling it, he must make the listener feel it. That is the craft! He must objectively know how to make multiple listeners perceive something (i.e. an objective truth,
perceivable by more than one person) that they take as a satisfying reality.
It's acceptable to throw some completely feeling-based performance (or, analogously, some composition or improvisation created in the uncensored heat of passion) out there to the audience, heart on sleeve, and the listeners will perceive that something real happened: the artist put his own "peculiar" experience out there, and the listeners can either resonate with it or ignore it as they see fit. Or, in the case of some performers, the extreme peculiarity comes from mental control rather than a surge of hormones. Either way, the performance comes across as "this is unquestionably my vision of the work, you must listen to what I have to say!" That type of artistry moves the people who agree with it, and bores or annoys everybody else: it can be mere indulgence. [This is the type of performance typically thought of as "romantic". The strength is that the audience can perceive that something obviously real is happening,
even if they may not like it. The weakness is that the performer might be doing some fatal distortion of the work, such that it is not the same work anymore! An example here would be most of Glenn Gould's Bach recordings: so self-indulgent as Gould being Gould that they become "Gould's ideas about Bach", _sui generis_, rather than
"Gould playing Bach".]
It's also acceptable to put a completely impersonal presentation of the notes out there, like some platonic ideal, "just the facts, ma'am" as the TV detective said. But that moves only the type of listener who can read all his own particularity into it, contemplating that ideal object and imagining all the things the performer/composer chose not to do. That type of artistry (generic, impersonal presentation) moves the creative listener, and bores or annoys everybody else: it is not particular enough. [This
is a typical style today, especially since the advent of recordings. Unfortunately, it trains listeners to expect that this is all there is, and to expect that music is inherently boring, generic. And this method is NOT "HIP", "Historically Informed Performance", or "authentic" in any way: it is merely dull unmusical performance lacking the skill of musical communication! More on that some other time.]
But at its best (for example, in the performances of Pablo Casals), the artist does not settle for either of those approaches. Rather, he presents a deeply particular interpretation of the music: the *correct* interpretation in terms of communicating with the audience. That, as I mentioned above, is particular to the occasion and the audience, the circumstances. The artist works very hard, objectively, to invest the communicative balance of structure and detail into every moment, making every choice by deciding what makes that moment particular. This moment in this composition on this occasion, as distinguished from any other composition, for any other audience past or present or future. And then, having done all that background work, he allows his feeling to invest that carefully prepared structure, reacting intuitively to "put the icing on the cake." The cake has to be there first, not just a load of icing. And the cake itself, without the icing, isn't as good as it would be
with that icing.
It is an objective skill to know how to prepare all that, and an *objective* skill to know how much to allow feeling in the moment to come into it. It can be practiced. It comes from experience. The point is to try to move as many people as possible, i.e. to create an objectively perceivable level of quality in the work, noticed both by casual listeners and connoisseurs.
That "subjective" bit of feeling is real in both [contradictory] meanings of that word. It becomes obvious enough that the performer is feeling something real and substantial to him. And the listener also feels something real and substantial, which may be different from the performer's feeling. The deeply artistic presentation leaves it open to both, because most of the expression is determined from an objective preparation of the music...an objective preparation in which the result seems "particular" and "peculiar" and "subjective"...not merely the artist's personal whims, and also not a soulless presentation of impersonal idealism.
The art is in catching that balance. The music at its best is particular: seemingly could not go any other way at this particular moment when it is heard. Organic, unfolding in real time, like a living thing. Convincing. That's authenticity, and it's the opposite of being generic.
Thomas Braatz wrote (January 24, 2003):
[To Bradley Lehman] Brad, your final statement gives us a good point for agreement:
>>The art is in catching that balance. The music at its best is particular: seemingly could not go any other way at this particular moment when it is heard. Organic, unfolding in real time, like a living thing. Convincing. That's authenticity, and it's the opposite of being generic.<<
Now we are back to the ancient Greek ideal which makes much more sense than attempting to nail down semantic change with its obsolete and more modern meanings of words (although I fouyour entire discussion very worthwhile.)
We need to remember that, in pursuing the performance practice phenomena which tend to gravitate toward the extremes of romanticism or classicism, we need to find the 'middle ground' ground that avoids the excesses in either direction. It would seem to me that maintaining this equilibrium is more important with Bach's music than with other composers: erring a little more in the direction of 'subjective' romanticism when performing Romantic composers (Schumann, etc.) and restraining these romantic impulses somewhat more when performing Classical' composers (Mozart, etc.) These trends towards 'romantic' or 'classical' interpretations of music seem to have existed throughout history (even among the ancient Greeks!) so treating Scriabin a bit more romantically makes sense, while playing Strawinsky might ask for a bit more reserve and care in reproducing what he envisioned.
You're right! "Organic" is in the middle, or ought to be, and we should be concerned about the aberrations into either extreme as not being desirable in bringing about an optimal live performance that would come reasonably close to the composer's wishes (whatever they may be in our minds) (if, for instance, we are talking about performing a Bach cantata in either a non-HIP, a modified HIP, or entirely HIP manner.)
Nobody really wants generic, mechanical, lifeless or spiritless performances, just as it is possible not to want to hear the 'rough edges': sloppy playing or singing that simply 'lets it all hang out' before the audience. The former is a 'deadly' form of classicism, the latter rampant, uncontrolled individualism (romanticism.)
All of these statements still do not directly address the situation of ensemble playing and singing where another higher unity must (or ought to) prevail. Then we get into the situation where the leader/conductor either facilitates or dictatorially imposes a prevailing unity upon the group. There are differing requirements for groups than there are for solo instrumentalists or vocalists, or at least I think so.
Matthew Neugebauer wrote (January 24, 2003):
[To Thomas Braatz] so, here's the question (at least my question):
just how much of the conductor/performer/whatever's "particular" or "peculiar" feelings should be infused in an HIP performance? Is it mere coincidence that a conductor/whatever's "particular" or "peculiar" feelings should coincide with the composer's original feelings? with feelings of the conductor of the world premiere? At the same time, how much studying, or "homework" as I have called it, of whatever it is that indicates the composer's wishes is required for an HIP performance?
Trevor Evan-Young wrote (January 24, 2003):
[To Bradley Lehman] Wow, that is some post.
It occurred to me though when you talked about Gould's 'ideas about Bach' rather than 'Gould plays Bach', that every performance is 'x's idea about x'. Maybe the Moog synthesizer is the only object capable of performing Bach without a human in the way (although a human had to program it so..). We have Rachmaninoff plays Rachmaninoff so every other performance is not the way the composer performed it! Every Bach performance is someone's idea of how it should be. Even HIP is someone's estimation of how it should be.
Bradley Lehman wrote (January 25, 2003):
< Thomas Braatz wrote: (...) We need to remember that, in pursuing the performance practice phenomena which tend to gravitate toward the extremes of romanticism or classicism, we need to find the 'middle ground' ground that avoids the excesses in either direction. It would seem to me that maintaining this equilibrium is more important with Bach's music than with other composers: erring a little more in the direction of 'subjective' romanticism when performing Romantic composers (Schumann, etc.) and restraining these romantic impulses somewhat more when performing Classical' composers (Mozart, etc.) These trends towards 'romantic' or 'classical' interpretations of music seem to have existed throughout history (even among the ancient Greeks!) so treating Scriabin a bit more romantically makes sense, while playing Strawinsky might ask for a bit more reserve and care in reproducing what he envisioned. (...) >
But I believe (from years of performance experience) the "erring" (if any) should be in the opposite direction. It's as I was saying a few days ago. If the composition is relentlessly rational in construction, it can stand a surprisingly large amount of shagginess in performance; the listener's ear will put it back together. Or if the work has a loose structure, the player need only bring that out clearly without adding more unpredictability to it yet...that is, a "classical" restraint can be appropriate there if the music is already wild.
(Mozart played too "classically" can sound like an exercise in formalism. A Liszt Hungarian Rhapsody that goes "over the top", while thrilling, can be too much of a good thing, crossing into vulgarity....)
Obviously, the thoughtful performer choosing objectively to cast the works "against type" like this has to be careful with it, so as not to make it seem arbitrary (or too willful, like the performer merely acting like a "bad boy"). I'm just saying here: if we're going to err on one side or the other, we should gently err on the side that goes against the listener's expectations a little, and it makes the listener pay attention more closely, thereby allowing the work to speak.
The composer and the performer, when different people, can each bring something complementary to the work. It's that rubbing together of the personalities that can make the work crackle with freshness. To pick a Stravinsky example, as you have (Tom), a few days ago I listened to Klemperer's recording of "Petrushka." The piece is full of color due to the lavish orchestration, and Klemperer brings out the strands without making extra points about it; and Stravinsky is a composer who is (supposedly) to be performed "classically," as written, but Klemperer here delivers a performance that threatens to come apart at the seams sometimes. It's therefore exciting in a way that one doesn't very often hear in Stravinsky.... Instead of taking the color over the top, whipping up the contrasts as a Bernstein-esque or Stokowskian conductor would do, he lets the color (and the rhythms) speak plainly. Instead of insisting on ensemble precision, he lets the construction hang out there on the edge. It works for me.
Jim Morrison wrote (January 25, 2003):
< Bradley Lehman wrote: (Mozart played too "classically" can sound like an exercise in formalism. ) >
Speaking of Mozart, anyone have recommendations for a Mozart disc that does for Mozart what Robert Hill did for Haydn?
Bradley Lehman wrote (January 25, 2003):
Let's illustrate this, and simultaneously get back on topic, with some Bach recordings. Here are some examples where I think the performers have miscalculated their priorities, and thereby make the music much less effective than it might have been. That is, I think they should have planned their performances to err on the side of "against type" to engage the music in a stimulating dialogue.
- Huggett in the opening movement of the G minor sonata BWV 1001.
This piece has a wild surface, overgrown with improvisatory notes in extremely varied rhythmic values. Huggett overemphasizes that, searching for nuance in all those notes. The piece would be more effective if she focused on the flow of the "big beats" and the harmony that help the music cohere, and treated all the little notes in between more as a throwaway improvisation.
- Anderszewski in the concluding gigue of French suite #5.
Anderszewski focuses on the forward drive/momentum to make it exhilarating, and along the way he triumphantly pounds out the fugal entrances of the subject to make sure we notice it. Both these choices emphasize the obvious, and make Bach sound like a pedantic composer. The construction of the piece is already as plain as a pikestaff; the player could instead bring out any IRregularities he finds. The flow will take care of itself in such a piece as this, with consistentnotated rhythmic values; the player can get away with bending it much more, and the listener's ear will still hear it as basically steady (but will find it more interesting and engaging!).
- Koroliov in Contrapuncti 1-4 of the Art of Fugue. As I mentioned
here recently in a longer review
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/BachRecordings/message/8556 , he chooses wildly different tempos and Affekts for these four movements, setting them apart from one another in maximum contrast. But Bach has already done that in the composition: within these four movements, sharing the same meter signature (and therefore similar tempo), he has already varied the rhythm, the chromaticism, the direction of the subject, and the character of all the free material. Koroliov takes that contrast to extremes, not adding anything to the observation that the movements are different; he overstates the obvious! At the same time, within each of those movements, his treatment of rhythm is regular to a fault, and all the voices line up exactly in their mathematically "correct" positions. Again, Bach has already composed that profile into the piece (an even flow of similar note values) and it does not need to be overemphasized like this; rather, the player could help the listener to differentiate all the voices and sections by making the surface much less regular.
- Pinnock (Hanssler recording) in the B-flat partita's corrente.
This performance suffers from a lack of characters, a lack of differentiation. The right hand flows in a steady rhythm and consistent articulation, even though compositionally Bach is playing all manner of games with the direction of the arpeggios. Pinnock plays that hand with "classical restraint" making all the notes sound the same, as (superficially) they look on the page. And the left hand, the interesting part that has all the stops and starts and wild leaps, is completely dull: it simply dogs the right hand and lines up exactly with the flow, with no drama of its own. Pinnock's performance sounds like just a bunch of notes flowing along, not conveying much sense *why* Bach may have selected those notes as he did, as opposed to any other notes. The performance doesn't swing, it just goes along until it's done. It seems that a corrente, a gigue, and a two-part invention would all be the same to Pinnock: a humorless flow of steady legato notes.
All these examples suffer from the same problem: the performances aren't dimensional enough. The performer chooses some obvious feature and makes it even more obvious, with a too-consistent surface, when instead s/he could have chosen to bring out the unexpected. The performer could seek to complement the material, bringing out the surprises vividly rather than restating the obvious.
Think about it: when a clown overacts a pratfall, it's merely amusing and stylized, too obvious. When a duchess uses foul language, it's an event; when a stand-up comedian does it, it's just a cheap laugh. When Eliza Doolittle behaves elegantly, it's charming; when a ballerina is elegant, that's merely what we expected. When somebody makes a pun, it needs to be emphasized enough that we notice it, focusing our attention on the surprise; but an overemphasized pun is merely crass. When Gregory Peck or Fred MacMurray or Mike Farrell play the bad guy, it's shocking and makes us reexamine reality. It's worth something to go against character, deliberately, to just the right extent. (And that's difficult, of course.)
For contrast with the above, here is a recording where the performers bring out the right things to make the music directly communicative and engaging. Fisk and Fuller playing the trio sonatas, BWV 525-530, arranged by them for guitar and harpsichord. These pieces are composed with impeccable structure, counterpoint, and melodic flow, intended for one player (organist): hand + hand + feet. So, Fisk and Fuller emphasize the fact that two different guys are playing the lines, reacting individually to the phrasing and ornamentation, and not lining up exactly with one another. This approach complements the music. It sounds like joyful play, fresh, alive. It swings. There's something new to find in it every time.
Bogdanovich and Comparone in the same repertoire establish a few basic consistent expectations, play more cleanly, and it's relatively boring: after the first few bars we know what to expect and there's no need to listen closely to the rest of it. They merely display the perfection that is already composed into the music, with "classical restraint", and it doesn't tell us anything we didn't already know. They make it sound like one fairly unified instrument, a "guitarpsichord," rather than two people in dialogue. So, the performance ends up being one-dimensional. It's merely very good, short of great. An old review of that, comparing them with Fisk/Fuller:
Bradley Lehman wrote (January 25, 2003):
<< Bradley Lehman wrote: (Mozart played too "classically" can sound like an exercise in formalism. ) >>
< Jim Morrison wrote: Speaking of Mozart, anyone have recommendations for a Mozart disc that does for Mozart what Robert Hill did for Haydn? >
Friedrich Gulda/Harnoncourt in concerto #23 and #26
Chick Corea/Bobby McFerrin in concerto #23 and #20
Jim Morrison wrote (January 26, 2003):
[To Bradley Lehman] Thanks Brad. I have the Corea/McFerrin disc you mention and that is far more than some kind of lackluster crossover album Great disc. Haven't heard the Gulda/Harnoncourt. I'll put it on my list. Any thoughts on Robert Levin's various Mozart discs, which I've never heard? I'm a big fan of his Beethoven Concerti work with Gardiner.
Jim Morrison wrote (January 26, 2003):
[To Bradley Lehman] Great post Brad, not only informative, but help unclog a pretty big conflation/confusion I'd had and wasn't even aware of. For years and years I've been seeking out recording that go out of their way to emphasis what was not obvious and have been turning away from those that actually do emphasis the obvious, but I'd never thought of it in such a succinct phrase. "I like recordings that don't emphasis the obvious" or "Recordings that emphasis the obvious don't work for me." Or something like that, but boy of boy did it ring true when I saw what you wrote.
And here's where the conflation comes in. While I said last week that hyperprecisive recordings don't move me as much as those who seemingly focus on other aspects of music making, I now see that even though that's still approximately correct, it's not nearly as clear and logical as it could be because one of the gut/non-linguistic responses I've been having to hyperprecisive recordings is something like "wow, all that skill, all those years of training, all those people learning to play together, all that experience, this recording competing will all those that came before and those that will come after, and they made the decision to use their precision to emphasis the obvious instead of exploring new territory. What a waste."
In other words, those groups could have been using their precision to play something unexpected, to shake it up a little bit, to bring out qualities of the composition that may get pushed under in a relatively straight performance, but instead they give us another middle of the road recording.
It's not that I object to precision so much, but the real problem, I'm thinking this morning, is that I don't like to see so much talent, so much precision, used in the service to create something so average and what sounds to me emotionally uninvolved.
I like recordings that do something different than emphasis the obvious. It's just so dog-gone obvious. Have I really never formulated it like that before? Hard to imagine, but it may be true. Thanks again, Brad, and to everybody else who's helped keep this discussion going.
PS: anybody heard some good Bach lately? Thanks to a friend I was able to
get my hands on Rifkin lead 1984 recording of Bachconcerti reconstructions
for Oboe/Oboe d'amore with Stephen Hammer as soloist. Very good. One of
the best things I've heard from Rifkin. Did he record anymore concerti
discs other than this one? If he didn't he should have! Don't pass on this
one if you ever come across it. Any other recommendations for the Oboe