New Music for Guitar by Italian Composers
From the CONFERENCE held in Alessandria, 26 September 1998
The first goal of this report is informative: let the guitarist colleagues know of the existence of a considerable body of music composed in recent years by some noted non-guitarist Italian composers. The three composers I intend to speak of are Gilberto Cappelli (1952), Paolo Ugoletti (1956) and Pippo Molino (1947). Why did I choose these composers in particular? These make up a part of a now vast number of composers with whom I have collaborated in the last 15 years (I could cite Paccagnini, Guarnieri, Badings, Chiara Benati, Solbiati and many others); there isn’t time here to tell the whole story, but whoever is interested can read the report that I wrote in the on-line magazine “seicorde.it”, founded and directed by Dr. Marco Bazzotti, present here. (I’ll take this opportunity to thank him publicly for the service he does for all guitarists maintaining this extremely useful magazine on the Internet, and for the passionate and impartial way with which he moves it forward). In any case, it seems worthy for me to note the fact that my collaboration with the composers has led to the beginning of around 150 new pieces for guitar, either solo or in various chamber formations and with orchestra: so, more than half of these pieces were written by these three composers mentioned – and this would already be a motives that justifies my choice – but the three composers have another factor in common which gives the title to today’s talk of mine: as a matter of fact, although they are very different musicians from one another, both in personality and in past and studies, all three dealt with the problem of communicating with the public through their music.
Whoever follows contemporary music a bit knows that this preoccupation to communicate from the part of the composers is not so obvious and to be taken for granted: actually there are important and famous composers and teachers of today – I could list some names – that judge this a false problem (there are others that say instead that everything is resolved by going back to write in a consonant and tonal way, and therefore the problem is reduced to a simple choice of which type of language to use). I don’t intend to get in to the controversy here and let alone give recipes, but only, as I said, inform you of the existence of this new music for guitar and the challenge that it brings with it, leaving each one to judge the final results. Besides, many of the scores are easily found, having been published by Ricordi, Suvini-Zerbony, Edi-Pan and others.
Speaking of the first composer, Gilberto Cappelli, well-known to whoever follows the events of Italian music of today (by the way, he participated in five Biennali of Venice, until ’93), I’ll say right away that it was this last Biennale, the one in ’93, that coincided with his return to composition after years of silence, and the first piece that broke this silence is the extraordinary piece for solo guitar – it’s entitled “Memoria” – that I played in Venice and that was then broadcast by RAI 3 and published by Ricordi. Compared to the previous production by Cappelli there is like a return to “sound” here – first, for example, he used a large number of harmonics – and in the 20 pages of the piece – I’ll show you the first to give you an idea of the complexity of musical and instrumental research – the guitar is exploited by the slightest flicker of harmonics to the explosive sforzati, with a great expressive tension maintained until the end of the piece. In many successive pieces, Cappelli goes on with his research drastically simplifying the expressive means: few notes, simple rhythmic figures (see the Tre Frammenti, also edited by Ricordi), the exasperated use of dynamic and agogic indications, attention to what we could call melodic values, that for Cappelli are present in even his most dissonant productions, and that bring him, in certain occasions, to utilize an explicitly tonal language in a very original way, like in the harmonizations of two popular Russian songs (see, for example, the chords on the upward and downward scales).
In Cappelli’s output I’ll note “Suoni di Luce” for violin and guitar, the “Sette Salmi” for chorus and guitar, “A Corde” for guitar and piano, all edited by Ricordi, while many other pieces (he’s written more than 50!) are still unedited.
I’ve come to the second composer, Paolo Ugoletti. When I met him, some 15 years ago, he had already written for guitar, unlike Cappelli and Molino who I had to “convert” to the instrument. Ugoletti was a sort of prodigy of composition: graduated at a very young age, started – even though he was very young – teaching at the Conservatory and publishing with a big editor like Suvini-Zerboni: believed to be one of the best students of Donatoni and even cited in the UTET Dictionary, at a certain point he distanced himself from his teacher to take up a very personal study, regardless (as Cappelli) of the official paths indicated by critics. I asked a piece from him for my first record, and he wrote three for me right away: The first, Nocturne, was recorded and published by Edi-Pan, while the other two were published by Suvini-Zerboni, that is the owner of the “Giga”, written in 1991, an extraordinary inverse fugue in three voices for solo guitar, in which the second part mirrors the first: it’s unabashed, almost blatant proof of his compositional skill and knowledge of the instrument, masked by themes that recall light music. In fact, for some time Ugoletti writes what he calls “fake light music”, in which he unites the captivating aspect of the themes with the most rigorous writing techniques. Paolo also put himself to the test with popular song, both harmonizing popular Russian and Irish songs, and also writing original pieces inspired by Irish folklore, some of which for voice and guitar and two pieces for violin and guitar that are among the most exciting things for every kind of public in all music that I know. Now he promised me his second concerto for guitar and orchestra.
Pippo Molino wrote much fewer pieces for guitar compared to the other two composers mentioned: there’s “Frammento A” and “Frammento B” for solo guitar, written in 1984 for the Edi-Pan recording and publication (I must remember and thank here also Angelo Gilardino, who kindly wrote me a piece for that occasion). They are extremely dense pieces, certainly not easy to listen to, and it’s impressive to compare them to the successive “Frammento C” and “Frammento D”, written a decade later, where the intent to make himself understood as much as possible by everybody is very evident, especially in “C”, without renouncing the peculiarities in the writing and the school of the composer. Here one could speak of a re-discovered “simplicity”, that we see in the pieces by Molino for voice and guitar. Among these are “Esodo”, published by Rugginenti, and the dramatic representation “La Pretesa Umana”, in which the guitar has an important part. The change in Molino’s writing isn’t, he says, fruit of the drawing board, but depends on other aspects of his own personality (facts, encounters, relationships…): from here the courage to risk new paths.
To better understand Molino’s attempt, I’ll note that the composer is also author, together with other musicians, of “Manifesto Musica ‘94”, that takes a stand in favor of sincerity and expressive freedom and also is part of the editorial staff of the record label, “Spirito Gentil”, that collaborates with the Polygram group and with EMI. “Spirito Gentil” was begun with the goal of bringing the public, with an educational slant, to the great music. This series represents a small discographic boom in the field of classical music; its six titles have sold more than 50,000 copies. This, for the classic recording industry is enormous if we think that the average Italian sales of a classic cd is – it seems incredible but since the director of Polygram classic, Mirko Gratton, confirms – around 100 copies. Here I’ll dare to give a personal judgment: I had the impression that my composer friends had always kept a need for communication and expression alive, and had initially tried to convey this need within the linguistic structures learned at school (each one had studied with famous teachers), noticing then, gradually, that their study at a certain point had to forge expressive and linguistic tools different from those dominant ones, at least in Italy in certain years.
It’s true they pay a bit for these choices of freedom, but on the other hand, there’s a beginning of a response by the public – of course, by that public that comes to know of these initiatives – that seems decisively encouraging. About this it’s interesting to note that the opinion of the public, a bit despised by some musicians, was taken into great consideration by artists beyond all doubt…
Stravinsky wrote in “Poetics of Music”: “It is my conviction that the public always shows itself more honest in its spontaneity than do those who officially set themselves up as judges of works of art” and still “After having completed his work, the creator necessarily feels the need to let others participate in his joy.” I also found a beautiful writing of the great orchestra conductor Furtwangler on the music of the 1900’s where he says at a certain point: “There’s a fundamental and surprising difference between the opinion of an isolated individual, sometimes false and shocking, and the reaction of the public all together, most of it sometimes sensible, even intelligent”. And still: “For the artist, the work is symbol of a living communion between himself and his listeners. The prospect, the certainty even, of not receiving a response from he for whom it’s composed, slowly destroys the will and in the end the capacity to create. Without a community that holds it and sustains it, the musical work – work of communion – can non live”.
My illustrious colleagues speak to us today about Tansman and Respighi, and today we also spoke of Segovia and Yepes, while last year we celebrated Alirio Diaz, all people unquestionably tied to the thread of a cultural tradition, and to that “community” that Furtwangler mentioned. On the other hand, many thought that creative progress, whether in composition or performance, implicated a radical break with this past, a break with tradition, enough that Eliot Fisk said in a recent interview that his generation of guitarists finds itself to be like “without fathers”. We know that this has happened in all the arts, and this break has certainly had aspects of sincerity and courage, especially when formalism and common grounds were opposed.
The attempt by the composers I spoke of could possibly be defined as a progress in continuity, that is, avoiding a programmatic break with the past. It’s not at random that we return to speak of melody, sometimes even popular song – and this also has something to do with the history of the guitar!
Rightly, the works of art must be judged by the results, and in giving the responsibility of a personal judgement back to everybody. I can’t conclude without saying to be happy, as a guitarist, of the fact that our instrument has been judged suitable to their attempt as non-guitarist composers. I would conclude proposing two listenings: “Frammento C” by Molino, and a popular Russian song elaborated by Cappelli (the voice is by Sonia Turchetta).
Thank you.
From the CONFERENCE held in Alessandria, 26 September 1998
The first goal of this report is informative: let the guitarist colleagues know of the existence of a considerable body of music composed in recent years by some noted non-guitarist Italian composers. The three composers I intend to speak of are Gilberto Cappelli (1952), Paolo Ugoletti (1956) and Pippo Molino (1947). Why did I choose these composers in particular? These make up a part of a now vast number of composers with whom I have collaborated in the last 15 years (I could cite Paccagnini, Guarnieri, Badings, Chiara Benati, Solbiati and many others); there isn’t time here to tell the whole story, but whoever is interested can read the report that I wrote in the on-line magazine “seicorde.it”, founded and directed by Dr. Marco Bazzotti, present here. (I’ll take this opportunity to thank him publicly for the service he does for all guitarists maintaining this extremely useful magazine on the Internet, and for the passionate and impartial way with which he moves it forward). In any case, it seems worthy for me to note the fact that my collaboration with the composers has led to the beginning of around 150 new pieces for guitar, either solo or in various chamber formations and with orchestra: so, more than half of these pieces were written by these three composers mentioned – and this would already be a motives that justifies my choice – but the three composers have another factor in common which gives the title to today’s talk of mine: as a matter of fact, although they are very different musicians from one another, both in personality and in past and studies, all three dealt with the problem of communicating with the public through their music.
Whoever follows contemporary music a bit knows that this preoccupation to communicate from the part of the composers is not so obvious and to be taken for granted: actually there are important and famous composers and teachers of today – I could list some names – that judge this a false problem (there are others that say instead that everything is resolved by going back to write in a consonant and tonal way, and therefore the problem is reduced to a simple choice of which type of language to use). I don’t intend to get in to the controversy here and let alone give recipes, but only, as I said, inform you of the existence of this new music for guitar and the challenge that it brings with it, leaving each one to judge the final results. Besides, many of the scores are easily found, having been published by Ricordi, Suvini-Zerbony, Edi-Pan and others.
Speaking of the first composer, Gilberto Cappelli, well-known to whoever follows the events of Italian music of today (by the way, he participated in five Biennali of Venice, until ’93), I’ll say right away that it was this last Biennale, the one in ’93, that coincided with his return to composition after years of silence, and the first piece that broke this silence is the extraordinary piece for solo guitar – it’s entitled “Memoria” – that I played in Venice and that was then broadcast by RAI 3 and published by Ricordi. Compared to the previous production by Cappelli there is like a return to “sound” here – first, for example, he used a large number of harmonics – and in the 20 pages of the piece – I’ll show you the first to give you an idea of the complexity of musical and instrumental research – the guitar is exploited by the slightest flicker of harmonics to the explosive sforzati, with a great expressive tension maintained until the end of the piece. In many successive pieces, Cappelli goes on with his research drastically simplifying the expressive means: few notes, simple rhythmic figures (see the Tre Frammenti, also edited by Ricordi), the exasperated use of dynamic and agogic indications, attention to what we could call melodic values, that for Cappelli are present in even his most dissonant productions, and that bring him, in certain occasions, to utilize an explicitly tonal language in a very original way, like in the harmonizations of two popular Russian songs (see, for example, the chords on the upward and downward scales).
In Cappelli’s output I’ll note “Suoni di Luce” for violin and guitar, the “Sette Salmi” for chorus and guitar, “A Corde” for guitar and piano, all edited by Ricordi, while many other pieces (he’s written more than 50!) are still unedited.
I’ve come to the second composer, Paolo Ugoletti. When I met him, some 15 years ago, he had already written for guitar, unlike Cappelli and Molino who I had to “convert” to the instrument. Ugoletti was a sort of prodigy of composition: graduated at a very young age, started – even though he was very young – teaching at the Conservatory and publishing with a big editor like Suvini-Zerboni: believed to be one of the best students of Donatoni and even cited in the UTET Dictionary, at a certain point he distanced himself from his teacher to take up a very personal study, regardless (as Cappelli) of the official paths indicated by critics. I asked a piece from him for my first record, and he wrote three for me right away: The first, Nocturne, was recorded and published by Edi-Pan, while the other two were published by Suvini-Zerboni, that is the owner of the “Giga”, written in 1991, an extraordinary inverse fugue in three voices for solo guitar, in which the second part mirrors the first: it’s unabashed, almost blatant proof of his compositional skill and knowledge of the instrument, masked by themes that recall light music. In fact, for some time Ugoletti writes what he calls “fake light music”, in which he unites the captivating aspect of the themes with the most rigorous writing techniques. Paolo also put himself to the test with popular song, both harmonizing popular Russian and Irish songs, and also writing original pieces inspired by Irish folklore, some of which for voice and guitar and two pieces for violin and guitar that are among the most exciting things for every kind of public in all music that I know. Now he promised me his second concerto for guitar and orchestra.
Pippo Molino wrote much fewer pieces for guitar compared to the other two composers mentioned: there’s “Frammento A” and “Frammento B” for solo guitar, written in 1984 for the Edi-Pan recording and publication (I must remember and thank here also Angelo Gilardino, who kindly wrote me a piece for that occasion). They are extremely dense pieces, certainly not easy to listen to, and it’s impressive to compare them to the successive “Frammento C” and “Frammento D”, written a decade later, where the intent to make himself understood as much as possible by everybody is very evident, especially in “C”, without renouncing the peculiarities in the writing and the school of the composer. Here one could speak of a re-discovered “simplicity”, that we see in the pieces by Molino for voice and guitar. Among these are “Esodo”, published by Rugginenti, and the dramatic representation “La Pretesa Umana”, in which the guitar has an important part. The change in Molino’s writing isn’t, he says, fruit of the drawing board, but depends on other aspects of his own personality (facts, encounters, relationships…): from here the courage to risk new paths.
To better understand Molino’s attempt, I’ll note that the composer is also author, together with other musicians, of “Manifesto Musica ‘94”, that takes a stand in favor of sincerity and expressive freedom and also is part of the editorial staff of the record label, “Spirito Gentil”, that collaborates with the Polygram group and with EMI. “Spirito Gentil” was begun with the goal of bringing the public, with an educational slant, to the great music. This series represents a small discographic boom in the field of classical music; its six titles have sold more than 50,000 copies. This, for the classic recording industry is enormous if we think that the average Italian sales of a classic cd is – it seems incredible but since the director of Polygram classic, Mirko Gratton, confirms – around 100 copies. Here I’ll dare to give a personal judgment: I had the impression that my composer friends had always kept a need for communication and expression alive, and had initially tried to convey this need within the linguistic structures learned at school (each one had studied with famous teachers), noticing then, gradually, that their study at a certain point had to forge expressive and linguistic tools different from those dominant ones, at least in Italy in certain years.
It’s true they pay a bit for these choices of freedom, but on the other hand, there’s a beginning of a response by the public – of course, by that public that comes to know of these initiatives – that seems decisively encouraging. About this it’s interesting to note that the opinion of the public, a bit despised by some musicians, was taken into great consideration by artists beyond all doubt…
Stravinsky wrote in “Poetics of Music”: “It is my conviction that the public always shows itself more honest in its spontaneity than do those who officially set themselves up as judges of works of art” and still “After having completed his work, the creator necessarily feels the need to let others participate in his joy.” I also found a beautiful writing of the great orchestra conductor Furtwangler on the music of the 1900’s where he says at a certain point: “There’s a fundamental and surprising difference between the opinion of an isolated individual, sometimes false and shocking, and the reaction of the public all together, most of it sometimes sensible, even intelligent”. And still: “For the artist, the work is symbol of a living communion between himself and his listeners. The prospect, the certainty even, of not receiving a response from he for whom it’s composed, slowly destroys the will and in the end the capacity to create. Without a community that holds it and sustains it, the musical work – work of communion – can non live”.
My illustrious colleagues speak to us today about Tansman and Respighi, and today we also spoke of Segovia and Yepes, while last year we celebrated Alirio Diaz, all people unquestionably tied to the thread of a cultural tradition, and to that “community” that Furtwangler mentioned. On the other hand, many thought that creative progress, whether in composition or performance, implicated a radical break with this past, a break with tradition, enough that Eliot Fisk said in a recent interview that his generation of guitarists finds itself to be like “without fathers”. We know that this has happened in all the arts, and this break has certainly had aspects of sincerity and courage, especially when formalism and common grounds were opposed.
The attempt by the composers I spoke of could possibly be defined as a progress in continuity, that is, avoiding a programmatic break with the past. It’s not at random that we return to speak of melody, sometimes even popular song – and this also has something to do with the history of the guitar!
Rightly, the works of art must be judged by the results, and in giving the responsibility of a personal judgement back to everybody. I can’t conclude without saying to be happy, as a guitarist, of the fact that our instrument has been judged suitable to their attempt as non-guitarist composers. I would conclude proposing two listenings: “Frammento C” by Molino, and a popular Russian song elaborated by Cappelli (the voice is by Sonia Turchetta).
Thank you.