Martha says Good morning, Scarlatti

Marc says:

Back in my UCLA days in the late ’70s, I attended an all-Scarlatti recital in Schoenberg Hall by the immortal Ralph Kirkpatrick. Simply the most courageous performance I ever witnessed. Totally blind, he slowly walked onstage, finding his way by holding onto a taut, waist-high string that led to the harpsichord, which he finally bumped into (with no sign of embarrassment). The audience nervously applauded the great man as he approached the instrument. Once seated, the applause grew into an ovation. Then, we watched as he touched the sides of the instrument, then the keyboard, placing his hands gently on the keys — doing this routine several times before creating a mental picture for himself. Then, he played, never missing a note. An unforgettable evening with an extraordinary musician.

Meredith Kirkpatrick says:

I think it is a misconception that Ralph Kirkpatrick did not like the piano. He recorded the Stravinsky Septet on the modern piano and he played the piano for pleasure, even giving occasional piano recitals for his friends. Here is what he had to say about the piano in a BBC interview.

The Early Piano (Broadcast on BBC Radio 3, Music Weekly, September 23, 1973)

There has always existed, and still exists, a school of harpsichord fanatics who regard the piano as an archenemy. This is not my feeling. For me there is too much in common between good harpsichord playing and good piano playing, even though the means and techniques of execution have in many ways been rendered almost irreconcilable by the emergence of the modern piano. And it is unthinkable that I should ever regard as an enemy the instrument for which the Schubert Impromptus, the Chopin Preludes, the Schumann Kreisleriana, and the Années de pèlerinage of Liszt were written. But its later development and the sclerosis that presently afflicts it are not exactly what I would have wished.