Pedoviejo -> RE: For Eddie Lastra (Dec. 23 2003 15:26:21)
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Yes, Phil, not having to barricade my doors and windows and boil oil on my roof in preparation for an assault is refreshing. What I said about “biblical proportions” was not a random metaphor. The most radical Moronites had many of the characteristics of fanatical religionists: They love their own religion very, very much and inversely hate anyone who refuses their religion very, very much. It’s their way or the highway. Non-radical religious people treat their religion like a spa: Someplace you go and something you do on a regular basis which makes you feel better. (Starting to sound like flamenco, isn’t it?) To me, religion is all about how it (a) makes you feel about yourself and (b) how it makes you feel and behave towards others. If it fills you with fury and hate, there’s an inherent problem that’s in serious need of correction. I’m not saying anger is per se and always wrong: Anger about injustice and cruelty is not just okay but necessary in my book. But hate and anger towards others merely because those others don’t share your beliefs or emotional responses is not acceptable. I do in fact appreciate many of the artists from Morón. Like you said, the falsetas of the Morón guitarists are very accessible, especially to beginners. But that’s both the blessing and the curse. Take, for example, Vicente Amigo’s creations. Many of them are what I call “deceptively simple.” On the surface they have little to do with the Morón style, and yet they are quite related. Note Vicente’s use of constant thematic repetition. Repetition is something that is taught in conservatories – think Ravel’s “Bolero,” a tour de force of repetition of theme (a/k/a “how to repeat the same thing over and over and over for twenty minutes without boring your audience to tears”). Vicente repeats his themes much more than other “top” guitar soloists, and that’s one of the hallmarks of the Morón “school”: simple themes constantly repeated in such a way as to keep them fresh and alive. And there lies both the art and the skill. My gripe with the imitators is that they get the repetition but miss the nuances, the changes of inflection, the rhythmic surprises. It’s a delicate art that is very easy to crush with a heavy hand. Think Ravel’s “Bolero” played by only one instrumentalist. Whatever the instrument the result would be the same: At just about 13 minutes, 23 seconds you’d either be screaming from the room or grabbing the nearest piece of furniture with which to bash the player. And that’s just about how the Morón imitators make me feel (with some exceptions, of course). Now that I’ve said that, I think I need to add the opposite to give this discussion some balance. Many moons ago, a music theory and composition professor told my class that one could always spot a new composer by the sheer quantity of themes he tried to stuff into one symphony. He’s new and young and bursting with ideas, and feels that he needs to proudly display them all to the world as soon as possible. But all those themes going off in all directions only confuse the audience and muddy the work. With maturity, he said, a composer learns to limit a composition to very few themes, preferably no more than three (if I remember the number correctly). Then he will have the time and opportunity to develop those themes through – yes! – repetition and variation. It’s that repetition which “teaches” the theme to the listener, the variation of the same theme which keeps the listener’s interest, and if it’s a “successful” theme competently handled, the audience will walk away from the performance whistling it. Once again, the classical Greeks were spot on: Take of all things, know all things, but balance in all things. Pedote
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