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» Home » Articles » Technique and Articulation » Articulation and Authenticity in 19th-Century Guitar Music

Articulation and Authenticity in 19th-Century Guitar Music

Published: 1997 Author: Stephen Kenyon

The Tut is a Grace always performed with the Right Hand, and is a sudden taking away of the Sound of any

Note, and in such a manner, as it will seem to cry Tut; and is very Pritty, and easily done, Thus.

When you would perform this Grace, it is but to strike your Letter (which you intend to be so Grac’d ) with one of

your Fingers, and immediately clap on your next striking finger, upon the String which you struck; on which

doing, you suddenly take away the Sound of the Letter, which is that, we call the Tut; and if you would do it

clearly, it will seem to speak the word Tut, so plainly, as if it were a Living Creature, Speakable.

– Thomas Mace, Musick’s Monument (1676) p 109

IntroductionTHIS ARTICLE forms as it were a convergence of various ideas, perceived musical and educational needs,

and personal agendas. It also means walking into an area of musicological enquiry at once very broad and

fascinating, and also full of pitfalls for the unwary. It is not the writer’s intention particularly to add to the sum of

musicological knowledge about this subject, but rather to explore it in a manner useful to the teacher and

performer; nothing here is intended as a dogmatic article of faith, and the reader is reminded at all turns to

retain a practical view of the discussion.

Academic disclaimer aside, it also needs to be observed that any use of the word authenticity needs

strenuous efforts to put it into context. While it is no longer considered weird or the preserve of muesli-eating

sandal wearers to wish to approach one’s music with respect for the performance practice of its own time, it is

too easy to reach for hand-me-down prescriptions derived from scraps of surviving evidence, whether written

or notational. It should not be the purpose of this kind of enquiry to establish definitively how one or another

kind of music should be played in final detail; rather we are looking for trends, elements of style that are

applicable in general terms and thus useful for the practising musician and teacher. If nothing else, we need

to remember that European music before the radio and recording age was geographically extremely diverse,

and thus it is to be expected that testimonies of musical practice from different places (and times) across the

instrumental range, are equally diverse and not infrequently contradictory.

The guitarist needs to add an extra dimension to this. The guitar as an instrument of wide popularity took off

around 1800, and lasted on the crest of its wave for about three decades – less time than the careers of

several notable concert artists of our own time. It took root in many culturally varied parts of Europe, though the

seeds were carried mostly by Italian and Spanish émigres, and while the stars of the time travelled widely,

most guitarists knew nothing of the guitar world outside their own city walls, other than what they were able to

hear and observe on the occasional vis its of such international artists who passed through.

As a result of this, I would submit that any discussion of early guitar technique and music–making needs to

allow for the possibility of virtually anything being done somewhere at sometime by somebody. I also submit

that most of these things are both technically and musically what the conscientious teacher of today would find

distinctly shocking[1], which is hardly surprising when one considers that most of the people interested in the

guitar then, as now, were looking for an accompaniment for their singing rather than a vehicle for the serious

musical discourses of sonata form. More than any other instrument, the guitar has always attracted a clientele

looking for an easy option, a ‘nice sound’, something not too demanding. In short, lazy.

Fortunately for its own longer term survival, the guitar has also managed to attract enough people determined

to make the best technical and musical sense out of it, such that they were able to become the guitaristic

leaders of the day, both as teachers and players. Thus the guitar-world historically is possessed by a

dichotomy between the great mass of ‘informal’ players not greatly concerned with thinking and working hard

on their guitar studies, and those who apply themselves and succeed, to various degrees, to make a good

result. This means that we need in this discussion of ‘authenticity’ to be clear about the difference between

what we can expect most people did, and what we might call ‘best practice’, which is to be associated only

with those prepared to apply themselves. In authenticity terms we must be clear exactly to whom we wish to be

authentic.

In terms of that distinction it is in the present topic of articulation that the guitar is most clearly cut-off from most

if not all other instruments; it is not string, wind, brass or piano players that one goes to if one wishes to miss

out on written or stylistically implied staccato markings, or to hear irrationally uncontrolled note values. For this

reason, an exploration of the nature of articulation among other instruments will be useful as we approach its

application to the guitar.

Defining articulationMy dictionary shows that this word has two main uses in general English: (i) jointing and division, and

(ii) clarity of enunciation. From this it is easy to see what a good word it is for its musical usage. Everything in

music is about joining things together but sometimes making breaks, and being at all times clear in what you

are doing and saying (whether or not your guitar turns into a living creature, speakable or otherwise!). The

tools of articulation therefore are those of control of duration, allowing or preventing the prolongation of notes.

In general musical parlance we tend to find articulation reduced to various kinds of staccato. This is the most

obvious application, certainly; however, I will argue that in order to understand both the musical sense and the

way it all works on the guitar, we need to define articulation as the conscious control of note-duration, both

short and long, for specific musical purposes. This will allow both for the control the guitarist needs to execute

short durations, and for the different control required for long legato passages of very different effect.

Issues of notationAs we approach the question of articulation as applied to other instruments we quickly find the matter of

notation becomes important. Articulation is one of the things the composer specifies; correct? Well, not

necessarily. Articulation belongs to those categories of things that at various times in history, the composer

assumed the player would know how to do without being told; in particular the renaissance and baroque

periods, from which most music is notated without dynamics or other interpretative marks, these then

becoming normally included from the second half of the eighteenth century. Since this discussion is focused

on nineteenth-century repertoire we might think we are safe, but sadly not. Firstly, as we shall see later, some

markings in guitar music mean different things from the norm. Secondly, guitar music of that time is rarely if

ever marked as fully with articulation as corresponding music for other instruments. This, I submit, does not

mean that guitarists in 1820 were living in the baroque age in the sense that the composer expected them to

know what to do. Rather, it shows that the composer usually did not expect the player to perform the extra feats

needed for articulation. This, however, does not mean that no guitar player ever conceived of adding staccato

to repeated notes or applying a sense of phrasing legato to a melodic curve; good players, those who

bothered, had the music of their day in their ears, and they knew exactly when and how to apply articulation as

a matter of style. This is what I refer to as ‘best practice’ for this time, and I suggest we cultivate an attitude that

aligns itself with what we can disentangle as being consistent with that best practice.

Some historical contextI doubt if it is a coincidence that the appearance of clearly specified and thoroughly organised dynamic

markings in scores coincided, largely, with the appearance of articulation markings, where before these were

left to the player’s discretion. The mood of music was undergoing a huge change in the mid-eighteenth

century, and composers were after more control over the musical result. Ironically, it is clear that the matter of

articulation as a prevalent style was on a downward curve at that time, after a high point earlier in the century.

The quotations in the Annex offer some overview of how perceptions of and attitudes towards articulation (the

tension between staccato and legato) have changed. Generally speaking we can discern a great emphasis on

short articulation as an expressive tool in the baroque period, which persisted into the earlier classical period

if only because it was so engrained into people’s instrumental techniques (we shall look later at why these

techniques developed). Past the Classical into the Romantic periods[2] musicians became more concerned

with long articulation, i.e. legato, until in 1912 Tobias Matthay (Annex) had plenty to complain about.

For guitarists it is the time of Matthay that became the definitive moment for performance style thanks to the

influence of Segovia, whose interpretations remained heavily indebted to the style of the early 20th century. In

order to haul guitar playing out of that style we must of course admit the attractions of a musical aesthetic that

is very different from that of the Maestro who did more than anybody else to spread the guitar around the world.

This is not my concern here because it needs another article altogether, and because, by default, most of

today’s performers and teachers prefer to tread a different stylistic path while retaining the greatest respect for

Segovia’s achievement.

So what does it do, exactly?Before discussing the detail of articulation practice in mainstream instruments and the guitar, I would like to

lay out the effect of short and long articulations on music in general. The musical examples included to

illustrate these specific instrumental features will then flesh out the principles outlined here.

As I have defined it, articulation is the conscious control of note duration for musical purposes. The purposes

are made up out of musical style which resides partly in the notes actually in black and white on the page, and

partly on those hard-to-notate elements which are generally left to the player. Out of style comes the player’s

understanding of the music in question; what in detail does it require to make sense of it? What is suitable by

way of rubato, tempo, dynamics, timbre, articulation? How do these elements contribute to a certain effect (or

take away from it)?

Furthermore articulation, especially the short variety, remains even today, a survival of the Baroque era’s

fondness for ‘fuzzy specifications’ i.e. it’s up to you where and when you do it and how much effect it has when

you do do it. Does a staccato take away 25%, or 50%, or 75% of the note, or something in between? The

answer always is – it depends. It’s a matter of style, and the player’s understanding of style.

In general terms though it is possible to define the results of various kinds of articulation, understandably

easiest at the extremes of the spectrum, more debateable towards the middle of it.

Short articulation or staccato imparts:

a sense of rhythmic liveliness and spice,

delicacy or emphasis (depending upon dynamic),

and a capacity to brighten up plain looking scale and arpeggio figurations.

Long articulation or legato produces:

a quality of cantabile,

melodic and harmonic smoothness,

relative calm and subtlety of rhythm.

Between the two there is also the necessary sense of contrast that underscores changes of mood or intention

even in a very short space of time.

Silence, the voluntary taking away of the note to achieve a sense of break or breathing space needed between

two phrases is a function of the short articulation that literally at once separates and joins two legato designs.

There is also the small point that a staccato can exist within what remains overall as a phrase a legato unit,

without dispersing the identity of the phrase.

Using the two main functions of the polar opposites on the legato–staccato spectrum we will now look at the

way other instruments work with articulation.

How it works elsewhereWhen one looks at the mechanics and musical ramifications of articulation in other instruments, it becomes

clear that to an important extent, the practice of articulation grew out of specific instrumental features that led to

musical features of style.

Strings The principle relevant feature here is the use of the bow: notes are either slurred within one bow i.e.

legato, or detached into separate bows. The precise effect of the latter is not necessarily staccato, though

there is more rhythmical definition in detached notes than slurred notes. However, one situation (which we

shall meet again later) pushes the string player towards a greater degree of staccato, namely that of playing

repeated notes on one string. In order to re-iterate a note the bow has to change direction, which means that it

has to stop, which means the sound has to stop which meansIyou got it, a silence of articulation. Now,

today’s players pride themselves on being able to change direction with very little silence indeed (though it’s

still there), but players in earlier centuries were less worried about it when shorter, brighter articulation was

the predominant style, and they would be much more likely to allow the natural result. They were also using

shorter and lighter bows.

Wind The wind player’s equivalent of the bow is the breath (in evolutionary terms it’s the other way round, of

course) and notes can be either slurred within one breath or separately tongued. The result is much the same

as for the string player and again, repeated notes require separate tonguing, which while it does not

necessarily mean quite such a clear-cut moment of silence (different instruments vary in this) there is a

definite tendency for a silence of articulation to result.

Voice Bowing and breathing do not have quite the same effect as each other, and with singing there is

another element again, that of the sung syllable. Generally speaking a new syllable must coincide with a new

note, but this does not have to have as detached an effect as a new bow direction, as many new syllables can

be produced in the same breath. In fact even separated or staccato syllables can be identified as clearly within

the same phrase or breath; the effect is generally simply to draw attention to them. The singer can of course

also sing many notes within one breath without making a new syllable, but in making a new syllable there is

no technical difference between same and different pitches.

Keyboard Unlike wind and string players, most keyboard players up to the late eighteenth century were

aiming to produce expressive and meaningful music from instruments that were unable to make differences

of dynamic.[3] A harpsichord is incapable even of the sort of subtle dynamic difference that distinguishes an

up beat from a down beat. As a result they were forced to seek out other dimensions in the music to convey

the quality of interest, variety and change that was lost to them with the dynamics. Part of this was to play (and

write, for the composers) music whose texture, and flux of dense and lighter chords contained that sort of

information. Another part was to use a lot of careful articulation. Two identical notes, on the page, can be

rendered quite different in function and importance by shortening an upbeat and dwelling on the subsequent

downbeat; where these are both the same pitch, the repeated-note situation comes up again. This time it is

the press and release time of the key that determines how close two same-pitch notes can be in time.

Harpsichordists go with this flow and deliberately shorten the less important note in favour of the more

important. This is what Czerny (Annex) refers to as the ‘short, jagged style’.

Once the fortepiano replaced the harpsichord, builders started adding sustain pedals (and other special

effects pedals too, such as ‘Turkish Music’!) and once composers started really capitalis ing on the new

invention, the use of short articulation gave way progressively. Clarity and incisiveness are Classical ideals,

not Romantic ones (invent your own Romantic ideals by all means, I would suggest ‘blend and smoothness’

as a matching pair) and as the Romantic century got under way short articulation became more a thing for

music that was, overtly or not, of a dance-like nature.

The situation became so extreme in the early twentieth century, as already mentioned, that the fledgling early

music movement found itself in an environment where the string players hardly ever lifted their bows from the

string ( plus ça change ), pianists hardly took their feet off the sustain pedal, and wind playersIwere wind

players. Whether or not we align ourselves with the early music movement as such, we should be very careful

to respect the rediscoveries for which it has been responsible in terms of stylistic performance, particularly

relating to:

tempi

freedom of ornamentation

appropriate instruments and instrumentation

transparency of texture

rhythmic freedom

clarity of articulation

To sum up the discussion thus far, one might abstract the following points

– the diversity of music making in geographically separate areas

– the youthful stage of development of nineteenth-century guitar

– the guitar’s tendency to attract a high proportion of ‘informal’ playersI

– Ibut also those capable of ‘best practice’

– the definition of articulation as the conscious control of note-duration, both short and long, for specific

musical purposes

– notation varies with period and to an extent, instrument

– short articulation became less prevalent into the nineteenth century

– short articulation tends to be lively

– long articulation tends to be calm

– other instruments possess features which contribute to the musical style which includes articulation

On to some music at lastA study of the repertoires of other instruments reveals a number of ways in which articulation is used for

particular ends. The following musical examples show some of these – sometimes more than one in each

extract – and are the basis upon which we shall build a way of understanding what can and should be done

about applying principles of articulation to guitar music.

Example 1 The beginning of Beethoven’s first piano sonata shows a typical usage for staccato: the

ascending arpeggio is lightened and enlivened with staccato. The second bar, however, is legato, a contrast,

and a moment of repose and, for the moment, culmination which the dynamics are supporting as well. The

accent on the first note of the second bar (and the corresponding note later) serves to make the ascending

notes an anacrusis, and thus subordinate to the stronger note, and this is also supported by the lightening of

the arpeggio. The accompanying chords are all also articulated; in this dynamic the effect in both hands of the

music is to make delicate and compelling what otherwise would be somewhat heavy and uninteresting.

Example 1 Ludwig van Beethoven, Sonata in F minor, op. 2/1: i, bars 1–4

Example 2 The opening of Mozart’s C major Quintet has a marked similarity except that the composer has not

left the articulation to chance – he’s written the staccato out as quavers and quaver rests. Note that at this

tempo the inner voices do not need to be told to be light and delicate: those repeated quavers with alternating

up/down bows are fairly staccato without effort!

Example 2 W.A. Mozart, Quintet in C major, K 515: i, bars 1–5

Example 3 Later in the same Mozart we have a good example of the repeated note articulation discussed

earlier, in the 4th and 6th bars. This is in contrast with the violas long legato lines (though some people play

them bowed one bar together rather than two). What would the effect be if the violas were staccato (or just

detached) as well as the violins? Try to auralise the result – staccato high Ds with a patter of staccato quavers

below. I think it would muddle the sense of refined poise that the violins exhibit here, by distracting attention

from them and by mixing two kinds of short articulation. Mozart has got it just right as it is.

Example 3 W.A. Mozart, Quintet in C major, K 515: i, bars 93–99

Example 4a More Mozart and another quintet, the one in G minor. Here we find another very typical

formulation, that of two slurred notes followed by two staccato. That the repeated notes are staccato will no

longer be the slightest surprise, but if we look a little closer we find that Mozart has used this convention to very

subtle ends. The second beat of the first bar in this extract could easily be articulated like the first beat – two

slurred, two staccato; however, Mozart makes this whole beat slurred. If you look you will find that although the

meter here is 3/4, this passage is actually duple time, 2/4 within a 3/4 time signature. By slurring that second

beat of the two-time unit, this cross-rhythm is subtlety enhanced and underlined, by adding another dimension

to the binary nature of the A(7) to D harmony. Also notice that the staccato notes are all supported by rests, an

interesting touch.

Example 4a W.A. Mozart, Quintet in G minor, K 516: iii, bars 33–38

Example 4b is the passage following on from 4a. Here is another typical grouping (in the first system, for the

first violin) in compound time, of two slurred notes followed by one staccato. There are also technical bowing

reasons for this sort of figuration, but the characteristic swing it gives the rhythm is very important.

Example 4b W.A. Mozart, Quintet in G minor, K 516: iv

The second system is also of considerable interest. The cello and 2nd viola ascending figures are staccato,

which is a usage we have already encountered because it is so typical; however, the first violin again has the

main interest. Firstly, the long descending scales are separately bowed, rather than in one slurred lot, giving a

much greater sense of rhythmisation, important largely because the other players are tacet here, and also

because of the overall sense of keeping the forward momentum going. In the last three bars, however, we see

a recurrence of the 2 slurred, 1 staccato combination, interspersed with 3 staccato notes. Like example 4a

there is an element of cross-rhythm here, as the strongly marked groups of 3 semiquavers push the meter

towards a 4 in the bar feel. The alternating patterns of articulation again underline this. The final descending

scale, staccato within one bow, is an intriguing solution to the presentation of this moment of culmination after

the descending scales in the preceding bars, and fits well with the calando marking.

Example 5a is back to Beethoven. Here we have a staccato marking in a very un-delicate context; here it is for

emphasis and to drive the rhythm forward. The contrast with the legato answering phrase from the end of bar

4 needs no underlining. This contrast shows the use of articulation to add to the effect of musical qualities

which are already there, in principle, in the notes, but which are brighter and clearer with a little help.

Example 5b is included to show another example (along with example 2 of how notation can be flexible when

it comes to articulation. On the face of it both right and left hands are playing the same time values (if we take a

staccato note to equal half the same note without the dot), but Beethoven has notated the right hand with

staccato dots and the left hand written out with quavers and quaver rests! It is unlikely that the composer

envisaged some subtle difference in the exact duration of the notes in either hand, rather that he felt it would

be easier to notate and to read the music the way it is here.

Example 5 Ludwig van Beethoven, Sonata in B flat, op. 106: i (a) bars 1–6 (b) bars 31–34

Example 6a This extract from Schubert’s last quartet shows a number of interesting features. Firstly, it seems

to me that the application of staccato in the rhythmically jagged figuration increases the impression of

Baroque–like overture quality at this point. It also heightens the drama of the shocking shift to the minor

harmony.

Example 6a Franz Schubert, Quartet no. 15 in G, D 887: i

Example 6b is the recapitulation of the same movement. Here the figures that before where almost

desperately sharpened with staccato are both rhythmically smoothed out and legato as well. And all this for

the simple reason that whereas at the beginning the music changes from major to minor with unbelievable

abruptness, here at the recapitulation the process is reversed, and the composer is combining the resources

of change of harmony, rhythm and articulation to best create this change of condition.

Example 6b Franz Schubert, Quartet no. 15 in G, D 887: i

Example 7 This next Schubert extract shows the use of staccato within a cantab ile context. Clearly in this

music the shortening of the notes has no dance–like effect, but it does add a quality of definition, I would say a

speaking quality, that would be absent if the phrase was purely legato. Try it both ways – it’s perfectly easy to

play on guitar if you thin the texture. The written articulation here is an important contrast to the long sustained

notes of the opening bar, establishes the shape of the musical ideas to come later, and conveys a sense

similar to that discussed earlier in the section about singing.

Example 7 Schubert, Sonata in G, D 894: i, bars 1–2

Example 8 The last example of this section returns to Beethoven. Although marked cantab ile this is a world of

such utter stillness and serenity that only long articulations and the subtlest of phrasing can begin to do it

justice. Again, this extract can with a thinned texture be realised on guitar, and it’s well worth it.

Example 8 Ludwig van Beethoven, Sonata op. 111: ii

All the foregoing examples are from works readily available in recorded form and these, along with many other

items from the standard classical repertoire, can with great value be studied, score in hand listening

specifically for the effect of the articulations, long and short, as played. I would, however, point out that not all

performers observe all articulations, while some add others, and not all published editions reproduce all

markings, while again, other editors add plenty of their own! But nonetheless it is a very valuable line of

enquiry.

Guitar repertoire examplesThe purpose of the foregoing discussion was to show the ways in which mainstream composers have used

various kinds of articulation in their music. No doubt there are other ways, but now we shall look at a variety of

items from the guitar repertoire to see how these principles can be transferred across.

Before looking at particular cases, however, we need to elaborate on the somewhat ambiguous nature of

some articulation-type notation that applies specifically to guitar music. The particular dual-use of the staccato

dot that every guitarist has to be careful of, is that it is both used as per convention to instruct a shortening of

the written value, and to instruct specifically ‘do not slur these notes’.[4] The latter usage is found both in long

scale passages, where the nineteenth-century guitarist would often be tempted to slur notes on one string

together, and in groups of four semiquavers where two are meant to be slurred, but the others definitely not.

You may ask how we know that the dots do not mean staccato in this type of place. The answer is largely that,

in practical terms, at the sort of tempo this figuration is often found (see the Giuliani example later, or pretty

well any score by this composer) you cannot realistically expect to make a difference between a conventionally

played pair of notes and the same notes shortened. The difference is between them played normally and the

slurred group.

This point is underlined by the tendency of many nineteenth-century guitarists, not inclined to think of the

procedures necessary to make a meaningful distinction between true staccato and simply separately struck

notes, to refer to the latter as ‘staccato’ even though the notes are not actually deliberately shortened from their

written values.[5] The best example, and one which has unfortunately lead astray more than one noted

guitarist, is at the beginning of the first of Carcassi’s op. 60 studies, where the word ‘staccato’ is clearly

marked over the first of the succession of scale passages, and yet neither the music nor the composer wants

the notes shortened, merely not slurred.

The following examples examine cases of clear articulation markings in guitar music, and also cases where

the nature of the notation is such that it is clear evidence for the technical and musical requirements of

articulation even without the use of articulation signs.

Example 9 comes from the coda of Sor’s op. 9 variations. This extract shows two elements. Firstly, the chords

and also the first single note of the second bar are clearly marked with staccato dots. These marks cannot

possibly mean ‘don’t slur’ because this bar cannot be slurred in any way; it is also perfectly in line with the

kind of usage encountered in the previous selection of examples, figuring both as a contrast with the

surrounding bars, and a way of emphasising and pointing up the harmonic progression.

Example 9 Fernando Sor, Variations on a Theme of Mozart, op. 9, coda

Secondly, the notation of the triplet scales requires examination. The first bar of the extract appears to be

engraved with the italic 3 of the triplet marking bracketed accordance with the beaming with a slur; a

conventional enough form of notation. The third bar of the extract, however, has the same triplet scale but this

time the brackets/slurs are out of synch with the beaming, but in synch, more or less, with the possibilities for

slurring the notes up the same string before moving to the next string. We know from Sor’s Method that he was

happy for scale passages to be slurred, so what does this notation mean? Should both bars be the same?

Should the first be detached and the last slurredI? Tempting though it is to produce a simple answer, I think

this is one case where the ambiguity of the text means definitive answers are out of place. It is, however,

somewhat emblematic of the way much of the question of articulation in guitar music hinges on the

interpretation of forms of notation which may either have meant something quite different to the musician of

the time, or may not have been the composer’s actual intentions for the passage at all.

Example 10 comes from earlier in the same work and is a good example of the use of dots to say ‘don’t slur’.

The scale passages each start with two slurred notes, and then the rest are given dots. Clearly these

demisemiquavers are too quick to apply any noticeable staccato effect.

Example 10 Fernando Sor, Variations on a Theme of Mozart, op. 9: variation 1, bars 1–2 and bar 12

Example 11a is also from op. 9. Here we see a form of notation which will be explored further shortly. The

composer is totally explicit in his requirement that the notes on the beat are semiquavers separated from the

subsequent notes by rests. I take the view in this sort of case that since the composer has undertaken twice

the amount of pen work (and required twice the amount of scratching from the engraver) than would be

required to write longer notes – in this case quavers – then he really means those rests.

This may sound obvious, but a quick examination of what is required to truly fulfil these requirement will show

that the player is being expected to be very precise about the control of duration from both hands. Even greater

thought will be required for the following examples but example 11b shows how this passage might have

been notated had Sor felt he could rely on the articulation notation he knew from other instrument’s music.

Example 11 Fernando Sor, Variations on a Theme of Mozart, op. 9: variation 4, bars 1–4

Example 12 shows a similar design but here some of the chords followed by rests contain open strings. This

means that in order to make the composer’s efforts at writing out rests worthwhile, we have to assume he

intended the player to use the right hand to damp those open strings, as well as/instead of simply lifting the

left hand fingers.[6]

Example 12 Fernando Sor, Study no. 3, bars 1–2

Several other studies from this composer present similar technical issues and the reader is recommended to

sort through the complete set in order to gain a better overview of this specific area than would be sensible to

try to include in this article. However, the study that is probably best known for exemplifying this question is

shown in example 13a. What is less well known, however,is that Aguado recognised in detail the possibilities

of this study and its accompanying technical dimension, and he proposed in his Method that the piece should

also be played as per example 13 b/c. While Aguado’s own music rarely specifies articulation, it asks for it

almost as much as Sor; however, a close study of his Method is extremely instructive of his analytical attitude

to guitar technique in general, and he does specify that both hands are to be used in controlling durations.

Example 13 Fernando Sor, Lesson no. 20, bars 1–4

In preparing this article I searched in vain for interesting examples of articulation in the repertoires of the Italian

composers. Indeed, in his transcriptions of piano and string music, Carulli manages to leave out articulation

markings in his originals, as did Bobrowicz in his otherwise remarkable transcription of the Chopin Mazurkas

opp. 6 and 7. Perhaps because Fernando Sor was a composer of much music for other instruments, his

guitar works are much more likely to contain elements of articulation and forms of notation that require

duration control from the player. And also perhaps because he was much less tolerant (OK, zero tolerant) of

the bad effects of guitar-habits that as he saw it, resulted in bad music, bad playing and the instrument’s bad

reputation, Sor’s music both looks and sounds remarkably like ‘mainstream’ music. Since most readers will

own a reasonable collection of this composer’s works I list below a few items of particular interest.[7]

Perhaps there is another reason for this composer’s music showing so much application for articulation: I am

sure that the articulation-world of Mozart’s time fits easily onto it because it is so often texturally and

harmonically of a late eighteenth-century style.

Before concluding with an examination of the technical requirements of both-hand duration control, I shall

propose an example of the sort of articulation editing that can usefully be applied to this repertoire.

Tantalisingly, the opening bar of Sor’s Study 17 gives staccato dots to the rising quavers. In example 14 I have

edited the first page of the work with the kind of usages that we encountered in the first set of examples. I

encourage the reader to take other examples, either from their own or their student’s repertoires, and apply

these principles, and see how much more alive the music becomes!

Example 14 Fernando Sor, Study no. 17 in C, bars 1–45

A matter of intentionArticulation as an intention must start with the brain but end with the fingertips. Long articulations require just

as much precision as short; legato playing means keeping the fret-hand fingers down for the full duration even

though technical pressures may often be asking them to quit early. It also means right-hand fingers playing

through the string cleanly without resting on it for security before carrying on through.

Those matters are sufficiently part of general guitar technique that it is to be hoped that the player who

develops the capacity for true articulation intention can apply them by improving what they already know. This

is less the case with short articulations.

Short articulation requires techniques that are invariably active. Something has to be done to achieve them;

however, quite often that something would be happening anyway, simply at a different moment. Other short

articulations require an entirely new movement and the capacity to develop true intention in this department

means both having the idea, and practising the actions and timings required.

Finally, at the risk of slight confusion, a proper capacity for articulation intention includes the use of techniques

of short articulation to achieve legato. All will be revealed.

Technical mattersIn order to approach an understanding of what happens in short articulation we need to be very clear about the

subdivision of the note. While the damping procedure required will at times in practice pro duce exact

durations that are rather less "four square" than the following examples, they show the note divided into 4 for

the sake of clarity.

Example 15 shows four repeated crotchets with staccato markings, and with the semiquaver subdivision

indicated. The following bars show the moment of damping at various points along the subdivisions. One

might use the terms mezzo staccato, staccato and molto staccato to describe these three interpretations of

the basic staccato-marked crotchet.

Example 15

The issue of which finger to damp the note is simple: one needs to be able to use the same finger as has just

made the note, or the finger that is needed for it next (assuming alternation of fingers), or theoretically a

different finger altogether, in order to cover all eventualities that are encountered in repertoire.

The insistence upon developing accuracy and facility of duration control with the right hand in this instance is

for two reasons. Firstly, while lifting left hand fingers does lead to cessation of the fretted note(s), and is on

occasions all one physically has time to do, it never results in as clean, accurate and reliable damping as

does placement of a right hand finger. Secondly, right hand damping is required to reliably deal with open

strings, as in the following examples.

In example 16a, the treble is to be staccato, the bass legato. As the treble includes open strings, the only way

to achieve this is the early, but precisely controlled, replacement of the right hand fingers; basically the same

issue is found in example 16b, and in both it is useful exercise to be able to separate, in this instance, the

return functions of thumb and fingers. Other instances are readily imaginable where one finger has to return

but not the others (example 16 c). Naturally, all these should be practised with the variety of durations found in

example 15.

Example 16

Now for the issue of articulation which, more than any other, is both reasonably approachable, and yet

endemically overlooked: the control of bass notes. Example 17a shows a sequence found in literally

countless guitar pieces, frequently at the end (where this issue is most conspicuous!). Example 17b notates

the usual result.

Example 17

The solution[8], as abstracted in example 18, is to silence the resonating bass string immediately after its

following note has been sounded. To silence it before would be to make a staccato, but silencing it very soon

after the second note, that second note is still very loud compared to the previous, so it covers it up for the

fraction of a second during which the thumb makes the journey back to damp the first note. The effect should

be, as much as possible, as cleanly, melodically connected and legato as the same bass notes played on

say a bassoon or ’cello.

This subject is discussed further in Gordon Crosskey’s article on technique (1996) and the exercises in this

issue. However, for the sake of completeness example 18 shows a simplified exercise.

Example 18

Finally, a tangentially related topic which nevertheless has an important impact on articulation intentions. If a

pianist plays staccato with the sustain pedal down, little if any of the effect is retained as the notes happily sing

on (though Alfred Brendel declares there is a subtle difference between normal pedalled notes and staccato

ones). If this pianist then keeps the pedal down while moving from one harmony to another, an ugly clash

results (which Matthay called ‘smudging’). The equivalent anti-musical process for the guitarist is not only the

issue of over-ringing bass notes already dealt with (and by extension treble notes), but that of the persistence

of harmonic resonances, mostly from the basses. These are the sympathetic vibration of the bass strings at

the pitches of their main harmonies (i.e. octave, fifth, double octave) caused by the playing of the same pitch

on a treble string. Quite simply, if these resonances are not dealt with they have a similar effect as the over-

prolongation of the pianist’s pedal, not only introducing harmonic elements where they do not belong, but

frequently adding absurdly dissonant intervals to chords which certainly do not deserve them!

Example 19 shows those pitches most involved, and a quick examination will reveal which others on the

instrument can be troublesome. The instrument needs to be properly tuned for this question to arise!

Example 19

In the interests of short articulation it is easy to recognise that notes such as E, B, A, D, etc, if played staccato,

will only be heard as such if their sympathetic resonances are damped! However, whether or not such

resonances cause semitone dissonances, the uncontrolled issue of these just as much as general ringing

on of open (or indeed stopped) notes, has a truly negative effect upon proper legato. This is because true

legato is a vocally linear production as much as a single voice or wind instrument would make with the same

notes. Laissez-vibrer style over-ringing of notes in a legato line serves only to disturb and ‘smudge’ the vocal

effect. Of course, such a ‘harmonic’ effect is perfectly proper in many places, not least those where the texture

is imitative of notes that a pianist would automatically pedal, i.e. accompanying arpeggios and the like.

This is why I made the earlier statement that long articulation is assisted by the techniques of short

articulation. The latter is about curtailing durations, and so the skills involved are also readily available to

make sure that long notes do not go on too long.

Summary and conclusionsAs you can see this is a large subject, and one of which many aspects remain quite a subtle benefit in the

scheme of things. The intention has been to present the topic from the points of view both of historical

persuasions, and contemporary technical procedures. The latter will probably have shown why I described

most nineteenth-century guitar amateurs as unwilling to do what was technically necessary to produce certain

kinds of musical result. Whether at this time many guitar amateurs are ready to undertake the articulation

intentions described is a moot point. What is certain is that there is a distinct trend in this direction, not least in

the values of the EGTA Series and more and more players are developing their awareness and capability in

this department. It is hoped that this article will contribute to some of the background history as well as

foreground practicalities of this very desirable process.

While of course the main focus of this discussion has been guitar music of the nineteenth century, all the

main principles covered are equally if not more applicable to Baroque repertoire (as the introductory words of

Thomas Mace tellingly show), and with some reservations renaissance as well. There are also many

twentieth-century works which call for an awareness of the stylistic dimension opened up by real articulation

awareness. If nothing else, all the mainstream instruments base a significant proportion of their playing

awareness on the heritage of the last century and for guitarists to draw musical principles from the same

historical seam can only encourage the process of mature integration of the guitar into the mainstream

musical universe.

AnnexMozart, referring to a pupil:

Ishe has everything a player needs except the true legato styleI

Clementi (1802):

When the composer leaves legato and staccato to the feelings of the player, then the best rule is to mainly play

legato and save up the staccato for special cases to emphasise certain passages and imbue them with more

life and energy. Where higher levels of beauty require this style of playing, there the connected playing style

must naturally become softer.

Czerny (c. 1842) on Beethoven:

Ihe drew my attention principally to the legato which he mastered in such a matchless way and which all

other pianists thought was impossible to execute, since at that time (Mozart’s time) the short, jagged style was

the fashion. Beethoven explained to me in later years that he had heard Mozart play several times and that,

because at that time the invention of the fortepiano was still in its infancy, Mozart had become accustomed to

the style of playing on the harpsichord more usual in those days, which did not suit the fortepiano.

Czerny again:

The usual legato is shown by slurs but must also be used everywhere else, where the composer shows

nothing. In music legato is the rule and all other styles are the exception.

Matthay (1912):

A mistake very often made even by advanced players is to continue holding the pedal far too much, making an

unbroken legato in place of that ever changing and contrasting variety of duration required by most music.

They hold the pedal wherever and whenever it can be held without producing actual harmonic cacophony,

instead of being guided in its use by the ever-changing and exact duration-needs of each note.

The wrong outlook is: ‘can I hold the pedal here?’ Whereas the right one is: ‘can I omit it here?’

– Tobias Matthay, Musical Interpretation: its laws and principles, and their application in teaching and

performing (London: Joseph Williams, c 1913), p 127

Notes

1. Fernando Sor complains in his introduction to his op. 59 that guitarists are referred to as a ‘last resort’.

The historically poor reputation of the instrument among the wider musical community needs no

elaboration.

2. For the sake of clarity I will state my assumed (approximate!) dates for these periods:

Baroque 1650–1750

Classical 1750–1830

Romantic 1830–1914

3. The main exception was the clavichord, which was ‘touch sensitive’ but which never spread further

than the most intimate of musical settings. If the neighbours are tired of your guitar practising, take up

the clavichord – they'll never hear it.

4. It is worth noting that in the earlier part of the eighteenth century, dots were used in mainstream

instrumental notation to stop the player adding an inégale rhythm to quavers notated equally; in other

words, guitar notation did not invent this use of the dot to say ‘don’t do what you were thinking of doing!’

5. This does not allow for the likelihood that many amateur guitarists were prone to what remains a

source of much work for guitar teachers today: involuntary staccato. Clearly, if people felt guitar notes

played singly were ‘staccato’ already, we can suppose many were happy with just the contrast between

that and slurred notes.

6. It is of course possible in many of these places to damp by lifting left-hand fingers and simultaneously

laying one against the open string; but I would contend that this sort of procedure is well beyond the

expectation of technical organisation that would ever have been considered for studies of this kind

(even today).

7. Fantaisie élégiaque, bars 1–2 and 8–10, etc, Fantaisie (ed. Romero), introduction section, Studies 14

and 19, Exercise no. 16. Contrast the control of short durations required for those examples with the

long articulation required for Lesson no 10 or the E major section of the ‘Marche funèbre’ of the

Fantaisie élégiaque.

8. Several players use to a greater or lesser extent the back or side of the thumb for some of the damping

purposes described here. This can work well, and in some places can occasionally be the only option;

however, I am only interested in the ‘active thumb’ method here. This is because many people cannot

adequately drop the back of the thumb without seriously distorting their hand position. Moreover, there

are many instances where thumb return is the only way to achieve the desired end. The training useful

to mobilise the thumb in this technique is also very useful for general dexterity and accuracy

development. It is not, however, the intention to dogmatise this or any other technique; the music and

the long-term development of the student must be the primary consideration at all times.

Further readingAguado, Dionisio. New Guitar Method, ed. Brian Jeffery, London, Tecla, 1981; translated by Louise Bigwood

from Nuevo método para guitarra (Madrid, 1843)

Donnington, Robert. The Interpretation of Early Music, New York, Norton, rev. edn 1992

Sor, Fernando. Méthode pour la guitare (Paris, 1830), modern facsimile edition, Geneva, Minkoff, 1981

–. Method for the Spanish Guitar (London, R. Cocks & Co, 1832), modern facsimile edition, London, Tecla,

1995; translated by A. Merrick from Méthode pour la guitare

Copyright © 1997 by Stephen Kenyon

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