In the early chapters of “Typee: A Peep at Polynesian Life” (1845), Melville’s protagonist describes life in a native village as idyllic compared to life in Europe and America because their pre-industrial culture makes no distinction between work and play.

Like the “Noble Savages” of the Marquesas, top-flight musicians like Eliot Fisk and members of the South Coast Chamber Music Society fuse work and play so seamlessly that it’s easy to forget how hard they work both individually and collectively to transform their rigorous training, artistry and intuition into precise and beautiful playing.

The word “play” comes from the Old English plegan, or plegian, which means to move fast, frolic, or perform. Last Saturday, virtuoso guitarist Eliot Fisk joined oboist Donna Cobert, violinists Piotr Bucek and Christine Vitale and cellist Timothy Roberts to perform works by Mozart, Villa-Lobos, Beaser, Bach, Scarlatti, Vivaldi and Paganini. True to their genius, these marvelously serious musicians often did appear to be frolicking as they played with Fisk’s brilliant transcriptions for classical guitar of harpsichord, viola, violin, piano and lute music.

For the first piece, Fisk (the last pupil of the late Andres Segovia and the founding director of the Boston Guitar Fest) and violinist Christine Vitale performed a resounding rendition of Mozart’s Duo in G. Major, K. 423 (1783) for violin and viola. This spirited duo was followed by “O Canto do Cisne Negro,” from Bacchianas Brazilieros No. 5 by Heitor Villa-Lobos. This plaintive serenade recalling the legend of the black swan, who sings but once in her life, then dies, received a soulful performance from Fisk and cellist Timothy Roberts.

Robert Beaser’s “Mountain Songs” (1984) convey the stark contradictions of Appalachian life by juxtaposing music that evokes the expansive landscape with a dirge for a tragic elopement and death followed by an exuberant hoedown. The original recording of these songs featured Fisk on the guitar with Paula Robison on the flute, but I much preferred Donna Cobert’s haunting and sensuous oboe, which imbued these melodies with more edge and resonance than the flute.

Bach’s Ciaccona from Violin Partita No. 2 in D Minor, BWV 1004, (1717-1723), is a deep conversation with the self that requires strength and stamina, focus, concentration and finesse in addition to musicality, and hearing it played on the guitar was a novel and impressive experience. Used as I am to piano and harpsichord versions of Scarlatti’s coolly intricate keyboard sonatas, I found Fisk’s rendering of a single movement from each of four sonati intriguing and wondered how difficult it is to regulate dynamics on a classical guitar.

Antonio Vivaldi’s Lute Concerto in D Major, RV93, appealed to me much more than the Scarlatti pieces, probably because it was a coherent whole, and because the interplay of voices between guitarist Fisk, violinists Piotr Bucek and Christine Vitale and cellist Roberts was thoroughly engaging. In the second movement (Largo), the violins and cello held the vibrant continuo line while the guitar played the obbligato lute melody with the intense restraint of passion this deeply contemplative movement requires.

The concluding work, Paganini’s Sonata Concertata for Guitar and Violin, Op. 61 (1803) was a tour de force for both Fisk and Bucek, whose bravura first theme was followed by a lilting, lyrical melody and by Fisk’s dashing Spanish-flavored cadenza. The next movement, a stately dance, was followed by a third movement race to the finish — all in all, a dynamic piece on which to end a splendid concert that brought the audience at Grace Episcopal Church to their feet.

- Laurie
May 01, 2013

I loved playing with Bill. Actually we started in Houston playing for the wonderful da Camera Society at the end of January and then went overseas meeting up in Pescara, Italy, a few days later. We always put the programs together in a spontaneous way, often changing things in the dress rehearsal/sound check on concert day and then changing things yet again on stage. If we want to do some parts in a different key, it is enough to chat about it on the way to the concert and then we just do it on stage.

Bill is lightening quick to react to anything, and every night we do things differently. There is a lot of room for improvising especially in Bill’s pieces. For me this is natural too as I am used to improvising basso continuo accompaniments for my students in lessons.

Eliot Fisk and Bill Frisell performing at the legendary Teatro Petruzelli in Bari, South Italy.

What were the highlights of the Italy tour?

The concerts were all fun, and the reaction of the audiences was heartwarming, but in Bari we had the best hall. The wonderful Petruzzelli theatre had burned down and remained a blackened shell for nearly 20 years. Finally a couple of years ago it was restored to its former baroque glory, and it is now one of the most beautiful halls in the entire world. Playing in this gorgeous, great sounding hall made the Bari concert especially wonderful. But the most exciting thing of all was the improvisatory nature of the concerts, how we could play off of each other and keep finding new ways to reinvent the music.

What is the cultural difference between the audience in Italy and the US? How do you feel it as a musician? You covered a lot of ground geographically, I guess there are differences even between the audience in Ancona and Bari?

It is hard to generalize about audiences. I always just try to do my best no matter who I am playing for, whether it is a bunch of elementary school students or in some big concert hall in a big city. I remember that in the 80′s and 90′s the audiences in Italy seemed more demonstrative. I used to play lots of encores, sometimes as many as 8 or 9. Then I would go to a friend’s house and play some more. Perhaps these days the public in Italy is a bit more restrained. Still we could feel them listening, participating. We were told that the concerts on this tour left a very deep impression.

What is the hardest thing being on tour? What keeps you on the ground when traveling so much?

Touring is actually easier than being home. On tour really all you have to do is play the music and get to the hall on time. It is much less problematic than being home where you have to deal with all the infinite problems of daily life. On tour you don’t have to take your kid to school, gas up your car, teach your students, or negotiate the duties of keeping a household going with your spouse. In fact, doing all of that well is much more of an all-around challenge than playing music and trying to communicate all the sublime messages that are in the music.

When I am on the road playing concerts I am always conscious of huge responsibility to the art of music. What I want to do is always so much greater than what I can achieve that there is no danger of the applause turning my head.

For communication to take place, at least two must participate. Even the best playing must be completed by the listener. The performer gives all he can, but only a listener with an open heart and mind can complete the experience. Even the best playing cannot penetrate the consciousness of someone who does not want to listen or who does not have an open heart.

We know that you are a food lover and Italians are crazy about mangiar bene (good food). Did you make some culinary discoveries during the tour?

Every time I go to Italy I know there is a significant danger that I am going to come home heavier, especially because what I really love in Italian food is all the great variety of the primi (the pasta dishes)! This time Bill was on his high protein diet so that made me feel like even more of a pig. Fortunately the hotel in L’Aquila was also a spa with some good exercise equipment so I was able to work off some of the pasta right there!

I understand that it wasn’t so easy getting home!

In fact, I got stuck in Rome for 3 days due to the great blizzard that took out the whole Northeast. I had to keep going back to the airport to try to find a flight. First they put me on a flight for the next day. But of course the Boston airport was closed on day 2 as well. Then they wanted to fly me back 5 days later. Finally I got someone at the airport to fly me back through Madrid. Those flights worked perfectly, but when I got to Boston we waited 2 hours for our bags.

However, while in Rome I was taken care of with loving care by two dear colleagues, Leonardo de Angelis, and Senio Diaz (son of Alirio). Their incredible kindness made the misery bearable.

In fact, it is impossible to make a career in music without such friends, and it is amazing how generous some people can be, particularly in a country where life can be so chaotic as it often is in Italy. These two were just as good as gold to me.

Friends in need are friends indeed.

In Rome with Senio Diaz, son of the great Alirio Leonardo de Angelis Diaz, who was also briefly my teacher.We are holding a foto of Alirio as a young man holding Senio as a baby!

Leonardo de Angelis

Reactions to the concert tour:

I’m delighted to see that everyone enjoyed the touring and that everything went well. I was told by the Promoters that these were some of the most beautiful concerts ever heard.
- Member of the Italian organizing team

Thank you SO SO much for those inspiring few days together. Wow…it was so great. Lookforward to the next time.

 
- Bill Frisell

“This is Ruggiero Ricci,” the energetic, slightly raspy voice at the other end replied.

This was how I came to meet Ruggiero Ricci, the legendary violin prodigy who survived and flourished through a long career, during which he was justly celebrated for carving out new creative space and daring ever more impossible feats, remarkable even amid the great galaxy of talent drawn to the violin in the twentieth century.

Shortly after that first phone call I went to Ruggiero’s apartment and played for him. In one of the intricate variations in Paganini’s Capriccio 24, I had learned one wrong note.  Ruggiero of course heard it immediately and helped me to correct it.  Over the years, we would develop a long and productive friendship during which we often discussed this sort of minutiae:  questionable accidentals in various Bach movements or in Paganini.

Ruggiero was also a great storyteller.  His sense of humor was without limits, both in music and away from it.  Of all his many stories I think I like this one best:

One day Ruggiero was practicing in one of his many residences. In order not to disturb neighbors he was using a thick practice mute, meaning that only a faint squeak was coming from the violin.  Nevertheless, after a while there was a knock on the door, and, when Ruggiero opened, a tall, elegant gentleman with a refined accent said, ”Would you be so good as to stop that practicing?”  To which Ruggiero’s response was a stream of invective.

To this the elegant gentleman replied, “You ARE a nasty little man, aren’t you?”

To which Ruggiero’s even swifter response was: “Yes, I AM!”

To hear Ruggiero tell this story used to put us all rolling on the floor with laughter, partly because his delivery was always spot on, but also because it gave the sense of Ruggiero’s wonderful pugnaciousness, of his ability to take on the whole world all by himself when necessary.

It is so difficult to explain the essence of what made Ruggiero great.  But if I had to say it in one word, I would say it was his eternal freshness.  He never did anything on or off the violin that seemed other than completely genuine, spontaneous, and unspoiled.  His intuitive way of playing belied the great musical mind and sense of structure that underlaid everything he did on the instrument.  Ruggiero played completely naturally and straight from the heart always.  Anything he touched seemed to have always been part of him.  Now he is part of all of us forever.

Eliot Fisk

August 12, 2012

A lot of people equate classical guitar and classical music in general as boring and snobbish and aimed at the rich ballet and opera loving crowd and figure that it would be too boring to play.That couldn’t be further from the truth.Classical music and especially guitar is absolutely exciting.I have a pretty large assortment of classical guitar recordings including quite a bit of Eliot Fisk,John Williams and Julian Bream,both together and separately and many others .It would behoove anyone to pick a copy of Eliot Fisk playing Paganini’s 24 Caprices or Pepe Romero doing Boccherini’s Guitar Quintets and Giuliani’s Complete Guitar concertos both backed by The Academy Of St. Martin In The Field with Sir Neville Mariner conducting.I have music for the guitar from its inception to present day and even back during The Rennaisance and earlier guitar/lute pieces could be just as tecnically difficult as what any shredder is doing today-I often scratch and wonder”How did he/she do that?”

I’d advise anyone who hasn’t heard any amount of classical guitar pick up any of the works that I or others have recommended.I especially endorse Eliot Fisk doing Paganini’s 24 Caprices.It’s just incredible beyond words how he could take complicated compositions meant for violin and transpose them for guitar-it’s simply “Brilliant”as is his playing,it’s mind boggling what this guy can do with a guitar in his hands-I doubt that Malmsteen could out-riff him.

Here is Eliot Fisk’s response:

I don’t know who “bonzoboy” is, but I sure would love to meet him… and not just because he says such nice things about me!

20 years ago when I made that Paganini CD I had no idea if it would be a flop or a success.

We send our CDs out into the world like messages in bottle, not knowing if they will be found or, if found, if they will be understood. Not only does “bonzoboy” get my artistic message, he suggests a fundamental problem that also concerns me: the persistent segregation of musical worlds, even now in the vaunted age of the “global economy” and the internet.

I have made many efforts to bridge the gap between so called “classical” and other styles playing with people like Joe Pass, Paco Pena or Bill Frisell. But as “bonzoboy” indicates these efforts are only a start at really having the walls “come tumblin’ down”.

So bravo to “bonzoboy” and let’s keep on fighting the “Battle of Jericho” (as the old spiritual has it!) until the walls really do “come tumblin’ down”!

If you were to single out one particular recording that had the biggest impact on your work, which one would you choose?

It would be unfair to single out one recording. I would prefer to single out a generation! The generation I would call “The Greatest Generation.” This generation starts with Rachmaninoff and ends with Rostropovich. It includes many Russians in between. People like Gilels, Oistrakh and Horowitz but also Kreisler, Heifetz, Ricci, Rubenstein, Isaac Stern, Rudolph Serkin and of course Wanda Landowska. Then come two who were my most important mentors: Ralph Kirkpatrick and of course Andres Segovia.

If there was one single recording that ended up being pivotal from all the gallery of these great people it was by chance (not by choice!) one recording of Segovia’s, called Three Centuries of the Guitar, an old Decca 33 LP. By chance this was my first Segovia LP and therefore became the most influential recording of my life.
It began with the now somewhat obscure baroque guitarist Santiago de Murcia (1673-1739), carried on through with some slight studies of Fernando Sor (1778-1839), a Sonata by Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco (1895-1968), the Fandango by Joaquin Rodrigo (1901-1999), some works by another baroque guitarist, Ludovico Roncalli (1654–1713) an aria of which was used by Respighi in “Antiche Arie e Danze,” and ended with Enrique Granados’ Spanish Dance No. 10.

I can still remember this LP because seemed to speak of better and grander worlds than the one I inhabited. It spoke with a voice veiled in the gossamer mist of the gods. I had to follow that voice, had to find its source. Little did I suspect the long path that was thus begun through the magic of Segovia’s art.

How has this recording influenced your own way of performing?

I always loved Segovia’s capacity to make magic out of little, and I loved the scope of his repertoire which stretched back into the 16th century. I loved his way of reinventing things in his own way. Back then this was the voice of GOD to us guitarists. Now we can listen with more perspective perhaps, yet his achievement remains remarkable.

I have tried in my own way to maintain the glory of the great romantic tradition while adding some things with the pizazz of today that Segovia would possibly not have been able to accept: works by Robert Beaser, John Corigliano, George Rochberg, Kurt Schwertsik but also works from the more dissonant side of the contemporary music world by Luciano Berio, Cristobal Halffter, or Hans Werner Henze. Like Segovia I have worked with contemporary composers but have arranged and transcribed a lot of music from the past as well. More recently I have been transcribing music by contemp. composers as well such as Rochberg, Corigliano, Berio and C. Halffter. Some of these transcriptions are I am sure!!! destined to become repertoire pieces for the guitar.

Nonetheless, music for me still comes from the voice and from the dance. I have less patience with music that is generated by composers’ mind games and mathematical calculations…altho there is often a very cerebral aspect to a lot of great music. On the other hand I don’t like air headed music that is only created out of instrumental cliches either…so I am always looking for my own version of the golden mean Segovia so brilliantly found for those 80 years he bestrode the concert stage.

So I remain very much part of Segovia’s artistic progeny although as one able to enjoy “die Gnade der späten Geburt” I was born late enough to make use of the knowledge created by the great musicologists of our own age and to exalt in dissonant works written for me like Berio’s Sequenza XI .

Do you think that a recording like the one by Segovia that you mentioned would have sounded as good if the recording technology back then would have been the same as it is today? In other words, is part of the charm, that these performances were truly live in the sense that almost no editing was possible?

No, the LPS I am talking about were edited as well! I know this as I myself also made a recording with Israel Horowitz, who produced most of the great Segovia recordings I grew up with. Iz told me when we were recording the CD called “Guitar Fantasies” that they even cut out squeak sounds on occasion. But for sure Segovia wasn’t the one to do little bits of takes. He did lots of complete takes instead. I am similar to him in this preference by the way! I always wear out the recording engineers because I do so many complete takes and not much patching!

But for sure the way of recording has not improved. Today we may have a more clinically correct sound but many times today the sound is less good than it was in the past. There is too much obsession with numbers and technical measurements and not enough use of the ear. The big old fat ribbon mikes may have had slightly less definition but their inherent sound was to my ear often more beautiful than today’s automatic sound. Today’s CDs sound to me like always using the lighting of the sun at high noon when sometimes you might want candlelight or the light of a sunset or anything with a little possiblity for some genuine magic. The equivalent of a harsh overhead light in sound is not necessarily a more accurate sound. The human ear has taken a million or more years to evolve through the inexorable wisdom of nature. How is human technology going to better the ear in a few decades?

Interview by Matthias Röder

Eliot Fisk

Click here to listen to the Interview

Following is the playlist of pieces heard during the broadcast, in the order in which they were played:

1. Manuel Ponce: Prelude
from “Segovia: Canciones Populares” (1996 CD)

2. Recuerdos de la Alhambra (Memories of the Alhambra), by Francesco Tarrega (Granada, 1896)
LIVE IN STUDIO

3. Spanish Dance No. 5 by Enrique Granados
A duet by Eliot Fisk & Angel Romero at Boston Guitarfest 2008.

4. Finlandesa: Quasi Andante
from “Segovia: Canciones Populares” (1996 CD), a Finnish folk tune transcribed by Andrés Segovia

5. Two Pieces from Siglo de Oro: “Cancion del Emperador” (Narvaez-Josquin, 1538) and “Fantasia Que Contrahace la Harpa de Ludovico” (Alonso Mudarra, 1546, Seville)
LIVE IN STUDIO

6. Scarlatti: Sonata in A Major
A duet by Eliot Fisk & the great Mexican castanet player Lucero Tena.

7. Paganini: Capriccio No. 23 in E-Flat Minor
Version 1 (guitar): From “Paganini: 24 Caprices”(1992 CD by Eliot Fisk).

Version 2 (violin): From “Paganini: 24 Caprices for Solo Violin, Op. 1” (1989 CD by Midori).

8. Two Etudes by Leo Brouwer (b. 1939)
LIVE IN STUDIO

9. Ciaccona by Johann Sebastian Bach
LIVE IN STUDIO

10. Paganini: Capriccio No. 24 in A Minor
from “Paganini: 24 Caprices”(1992 CD)

Eliot Fisk received the Grand Cross of Isabel la Cátolica on June 10, 2006, from King Juan Carlos of Spain. Earlier recipients have included Andrés Segovia and Yehudi Menuhin. Fisk earned the award for contributions to Spanish music as an interpreter and teacher.

In 2010 Wildner Records released two Eliot Fisk productions. The titles of the productions: “The Red Guitar” and “Ein kleines Requiem”. The requiem of the Viennese composer Kurt Schwertsik, recollects the Spanish Civil War and is made up of 18 different pieces. The compositions and the corresponding renditions for the guitar were produced in a period of cooperation between Eliot Fiskand Kurt Schwertsik that lasted more than ten years. “The Red Guitar” addresses the outstanding and in some cases very personal works of the US-American composers Georg Rochberg, Robert Beaser, Relly Raffman and John Corigliano.