Scarlatti sonatas

I have secret crushes on too many dead composers. I need to start being a more discerning critic or no one's going to take me seriously. Then again, I could just say, "LISTEN TO EVERYTHING!" But then I wouldn't have reason for this blog, and that would take all the fun out of it!

My favorite of the week is Scarlatti. I'm playing two right now, K 420 and K 548. By the way, the harpsichordist for the second sonata is Scott Ross. He recorded the complete Scarlatti sonatas. ALL 555 OF THEM. Then he died.

After a nasty and unsuccessful stab at a Bach French Suite a few semesters ago, I had resigned myself to disliking Baroque music. Or at least disliking performing it. But dear Scarlatti has breathed new life into me! He's like Bach, if Bach had been less stubbornly German (all that brilliant counterpoint and the stoic Art of Fugue). Scarlatti is just more athletic. It's much more enjoyable to play, speaking from a purely physical perspective. It's more simple, but then again, everything feels more simple than Bach.

Scarlatti has this way of taking such simple motives and developing them in such simple ways, and somehow creating a gem of a sonata. Every single time! K 420 is a good example of this. In each of the two sections (all of his sonatas are in binary form), you hear bright repeated notes. For some reason this reminds me of a banjo--a distinctly un-Spanish instrument. The repeated notes fold themselves into scale patterns which then fold themselves into these sweeping arpeggios. The rhythms are the only thing that drives the piece forward. There are no singable melodies, no particularly striking harmonies or key changes. I think it's actually quite boring in theory, but it's not boring at all when played with the right energy.

I'm writing a paper this semester on the influences of Spanish folk music in Scarlatti sonatas, so you will probably be hearing more about him in the next few weeks. Just a warning.