Know your

Classics

At the conservatory, I had weekly lessons with my main teacher, focused on jazz. It was called ‘hoofdvak’—my principal subject. We explored the genre in depth: playing through different pieces, working on accompaniment styles, voicings, and all the ins and outs of the piano.

Alongside that, to develop proper piano technique (which I really needed), I also had classical lessons every week—my so-called ‘bijvak’. These focused on posture, finger placement, hand position, and control. But above all, I got to play beautiful classical works.

Some of those pieces—and eventually some new ones too—I’m hoping to (re)learn and bring back into my hands.

Scarlatti L.33 / K.87

Scar....who?

Domenico Scarlatti was the son of Alessandro Scarlatti, a renowned composer of operas and vocal music in the Baroque era. Domeinco composed L.33 around 1740, during his time at the Spanish court in Madrid. This period saw the creation of many of his finest works. Not on a piano, though—those were still in their infancy. In Scarlatti’s day, the harpsichord was the keyboard instrument. On a harpsichord, you can only play one volume, because the strings are plucked rather than struck with hammers like on a piano. And there’s no pedal to connect the notes. So playing it requires a completely different approach.

Compare interpretations

Have a listen to two very different interpretations of the same piece. First, the version by Scott Ross, a harpsichordist who performs it much like it would have sounded back then. Then compare it with the interpretation by Ivo Pogorelich, who plays this same sonata on a modern grand piano. A world of difference.

What stands out?

Tempo. Ross plays it faster, clear, and historically informed.
Interpretation. Ross can’t shape dynamics between the voices, so he suggests contrast through articulation and timing. Pogorelich, on the other hand, takes full advantage of the modern piano’s dynamic range. He elevates the top voice: while the three other lines ripple below the surface, that melody floats above like a beam of light. His version gives the piece immense emotional depth.

Scarlatti might raise an eyebrow

He never wrote the sonata for this instrument. Modern interpretations tend to romanticize baroque music—literally: they apply ideas from the Romantic era, with its emphasis on timing, expression, and dynamic contrast. Think Chopin or late Beethoven.

Back in Scarlatti’s time—the Baroque era—music was often built around theory, clarity, and structure. Expression came from ornamentation, phrasing, and rhythm, not from tonal color or the use of the pedal. Both approaches have their charm. And that’s exactly what makes playing a Baroque piece on a modern piano so fascinating.

Now, I don’t have a modern grand piano at home, unfortunately. Just my old Rippen upright, the piano I’ve played my whole life. That’s what I used to record this piece.

The first time hearing this piece

I still remember the recording I first heard back in my second year at the conservatory. I was sitting in my student room, listening to the (phenomenal) Russian pianist Horowitz. I don’t think I took a single breath through the whole piece. Neither did the audience, by the sound of it—Moscow, 1986.

Vladimir Horowitz, one of the greatest pianists of the 20th century, was already 82 at the time. This was his first performance in the Soviet Union since emigrating to the West in 1925. A momentous concert.

I immediately wanted to be able to play it. But a four-part, fugue-like piano piece was a bit out of reach in year two. I picked it up again in my third year. That’s when I learned it.

The Challenge

It’s a challenging piece for several reasons. Without using the pedal, you really need precise fingerings to make the lines sound legato and connected. That took a lot of work. I don’t claim to get it right everywhere—I do use the pedal slightly here and there, but try to keep it subtle.

Another challenge is the polyphony: often, two voices are played by each hand. The trick is to make them sound evenly timed. I remember being given technical exercises to play thirds cleanly—whether major, phrygian, minor or diminished. No matter where on the keyboard they occurred. Something like this:

“I don’t think I took a single breath through the whole piece. Neither did the audience, by the sound of it—Moscow, 1986. “

Note length

One more thing I try to be mindful of—though not always successfully—is note length. It’s easy to focus on when a note should begin, but not on when it should end. Here’s an example of a dissonance that creeps in when you let a note ring out too long. It’s not what’s written, and it’s not really intended… but secretly, I do love that dissonance. It resolves so beautifully.

You’re listening to bars (10) and (11) in the sheetmusic above. The low F# is sustained in bar (11), creating friction with the G in the octave above.

Structure

Scarlatti wrote an ‘A’ part and a ‘B’ part, with both sections originally meant to be repeated: AABB. But often, only the first part is repeated — AAB. That’s how I play it too. In the first A, I try not to make it too romantic. In the second A, I allow myself a bit more freedom. Just like Scott Ross in the first round and Pogorelich in the repeat.

Bach - Ich ruf zu dir

The Song

Bach wrote ‘Ich Ruf zu Dir, Her

to be continued

work in progress

to be written

nothing here yet

I’m curious what you think!

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