Not JW the film composer, but JW the classical guitarist, let me hasten to say. When I was a young guitarist the two outstanding models were Julian Bream and John Williams, both UK guitarists (though Williams grew up in Australia for part of his early life). What about Segovia? He was actually of an earlier generation and musically felt a bit more distant to me even though my personal connection was closer to Segovia as my main teacher in my earlier days was Segovia's assistant at the Santiago de Compostela master classes, José Tomás. But as Segovia's career was winding down and Tomás was more of a teacher than performer, the artists who really dominated were Bream and Williams. Bream had a particular flair for dynamic, brilliant performances of both contemporary music and lute music, the Renaissance lute being his second instrument.
John Williams was a particular favorite of mine because of his really fine performances of Spanish music, though his technical abilities meant that he could play anything. A really influential album was his integral recording of all the Bach lute music in the mid-70s. This was the first time that anyone managed this repertoire with anything approaching ease and facility.
Williams was the first classical guitarist to have a really solid technical foundation. His father was a guitarist, which got him started at an early age, and then he benefitted from studying with Segovia in summer masterclasses from his teens. But he is really blessed with a natural aptitude. Nowadays every young guitarist seems to have a John Williams level of virtuosity, but back in the 60s when he started his career, he was almost alone in his technical perfection. Segovia had great musical character, but his technical flaws were always evident.
At the beginning of his concert career, Williams exploited his technical gifts by recording all the important guitar concertos, the ones by Rodrigo, Castelnuovo-Tedesco, Villa-Lobos, Ponce, Giuliani and Vivaldi. While any guitarist could play the Vivaldi and a few could play at least the Fantasía by Rodrigo, and more the Tedesco concerto, he was probably the only one in the world at that time who could play all of them, plus the Villa-Lobos, with ease. Bream being the exception, of course, though I always felt that he was not really at his best as a concerto player.
Williams could have built a strong international career, touring all the time, but after a few years he balked at this kind of life and settled down in London where he did most of his concertizing and recording close to home. He made a few side trips into popular and fusion music, but as he says (around the 40 minute mark) in this BBC special, it was rubbish that he did it for the money: he would have made more money touring playing strictly classical. I think this is true because unlike a lot of the people doing fusion or crossover today, he already had a big international career, he just didn't like that kind of life. The documentary is almost worth watching though it tends to be rather spasmodic:
Here is a much better documentary on Williams:
Does his technical mastery tend to overshadow his musical creativity? Yes, probably. He has mentioned that the influence of Segovia was not entirely beneficial and while he does not specify, it is likely that aspects of musicality were involved. One thing interesting about Williams' approach is that once he has settled on an interpretation of a piece, with very few exceptions, he plays it exactly the same, year after year. The exceptions are just a couple: his later recording of the Bach chaconne shows a considerable growth in awareness of Baroque style. More interesting is the second of his three recordings of the Concierto de Aranjuez by Rodrigo. The first and third recordings are exactly what you would expect: a rock-solid and musically excellent performance. But the second has a very interesting idea with the second movement cadenza. It begins with an arpeggio in the somewhat remote key of G# minor and for this recording he begins that cadenza very deliberately and very quietly, as if it is approaching from a far distance. Very powerful and effective! But radical interpretive ideas like these are rare with Williams. Actually, to be fair, they are probably fairly rare with all international solo virtuosos. I suppose if I were to compare John Williams with an artist on another instrument I might, very tentatively, suggest Friedrich Gulda on piano. They both were technical masters of the instrument and repertoire, but tended to chafe at the boundaries. Both explored musics outside of the classical realm, Williams pop and flamenco and Gulda, jazz.
So that's my mini-retrospective on John Williams. Here is a performance that shows why he is such a great guitarist:
Can anyone tell me the one interpretive mistake he, and virtually every other guitarist, makes in this piece? Hint, it has to do with the arpeggiated passage starting at the 32'' mark.
John Williams was a particular favorite of mine because of his really fine performances of Spanish music, though his technical abilities meant that he could play anything. A really influential album was his integral recording of all the Bach lute music in the mid-70s. This was the first time that anyone managed this repertoire with anything approaching ease and facility.
Williams was the first classical guitarist to have a really solid technical foundation. His father was a guitarist, which got him started at an early age, and then he benefitted from studying with Segovia in summer masterclasses from his teens. But he is really blessed with a natural aptitude. Nowadays every young guitarist seems to have a John Williams level of virtuosity, but back in the 60s when he started his career, he was almost alone in his technical perfection. Segovia had great musical character, but his technical flaws were always evident.
At the beginning of his concert career, Williams exploited his technical gifts by recording all the important guitar concertos, the ones by Rodrigo, Castelnuovo-Tedesco, Villa-Lobos, Ponce, Giuliani and Vivaldi. While any guitarist could play the Vivaldi and a few could play at least the Fantasía by Rodrigo, and more the Tedesco concerto, he was probably the only one in the world at that time who could play all of them, plus the Villa-Lobos, with ease. Bream being the exception, of course, though I always felt that he was not really at his best as a concerto player.
Williams could have built a strong international career, touring all the time, but after a few years he balked at this kind of life and settled down in London where he did most of his concertizing and recording close to home. He made a few side trips into popular and fusion music, but as he says (around the 40 minute mark) in this BBC special, it was rubbish that he did it for the money: he would have made more money touring playing strictly classical. I think this is true because unlike a lot of the people doing fusion or crossover today, he already had a big international career, he just didn't like that kind of life. The documentary is almost worth watching though it tends to be rather spasmodic:
Here is a much better documentary on Williams:
Does his technical mastery tend to overshadow his musical creativity? Yes, probably. He has mentioned that the influence of Segovia was not entirely beneficial and while he does not specify, it is likely that aspects of musicality were involved. One thing interesting about Williams' approach is that once he has settled on an interpretation of a piece, with very few exceptions, he plays it exactly the same, year after year. The exceptions are just a couple: his later recording of the Bach chaconne shows a considerable growth in awareness of Baroque style. More interesting is the second of his three recordings of the Concierto de Aranjuez by Rodrigo. The first and third recordings are exactly what you would expect: a rock-solid and musically excellent performance. But the second has a very interesting idea with the second movement cadenza. It begins with an arpeggio in the somewhat remote key of G# minor and for this recording he begins that cadenza very deliberately and very quietly, as if it is approaching from a far distance. Very powerful and effective! But radical interpretive ideas like these are rare with Williams. Actually, to be fair, they are probably fairly rare with all international solo virtuosos. I suppose if I were to compare John Williams with an artist on another instrument I might, very tentatively, suggest Friedrich Gulda on piano. They both were technical masters of the instrument and repertoire, but tended to chafe at the boundaries. Both explored musics outside of the classical realm, Williams pop and flamenco and Gulda, jazz.
So that's my mini-retrospective on John Williams. Here is a performance that shows why he is such a great guitarist:
Can anyone tell me the one interpretive mistake he, and virtually every other guitarist, makes in this piece? Hint, it has to do with the arpeggiated passage starting at the 32'' mark.
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