Domenico Scarlatti: Tercentenary Frustrations (Part II)

Joel Sheveloff

The Musical Quarterly, Vol. 72, No. 1. (1986), pp. 90-118.

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 Domenico Scarlatti: Tercentenary Frustrations
(Part 11)
JOEL SHEVELOFF

PETER WILLIAMS has recently praised the "intimate awareness of harpsi-

chord touch demonstrated time and again by S ~ a r l a t t i , " ~ ~
asserting, as
almost everyone else has in the last forty years, that these sonatas belong
to the harpsichord as surely as Chopin's music does to the Romantic piano.
For most students the only issue has been just what sort of harpsichord
might best project these sonatas. Kirkpatrick, above all an eminent harpsi-
chordist, minimized the evidence pointing away from his instrument; he
ridiculed the notion that the clavichord could ever have been intended
and scoffed at the notion that the single-escapement Cristofori or Ferrini
pianofortes were much more than toys or perhaps a nice background for
the voice of Farinelli.73 He had to admit that three of his 555 sonatas
were intended for organ, since the superscriptions on the music said so.74
Kirkpatrick's careful formulations have had a profound effect; the
acceptance of the harpsichord as Scarlatti's medium has been almost un-
questioned for a generation.
The most important single document bearing on this matter may be
found in Madrid's Biblioteca del Palacio Real, MS VII E 4 305: folios 228r
through 231r. Most of VII E 4 305 is the last will and testament of Maria
Barbara drawn up in 1756; the folios in question also contain an inventory

72
"Prciace," Bach, Handel, Scarlatti: Tercentenar.v L-bsays; ed. P. Williams (Cambridge, 1985),
p. xi.
73 Kirkpatrick. Scarlatti. pp. 183-85. The clavichord exchange took place, as noted above
in n. 13, with very little information o n either side worth debating; Kirkpatrick gained the upper
hand because the tremulo Dart tried t o equate with bebung occurs in conditions in which the clavi-
chord cannot possibly function-unfortunately for Dart. he only chose t o pursue this one avenue.
74
Kirkpatrick, Scarlatti; he quotes the organ registration on pp. 363-64, and explains them
o n pp. 185-86. His reference to the piano climaaes. o n p. 184, as follows: In the first two volumes
of the Queen's man~tscripts, i.e. Venice I and 11, we find a number of pieces, particularly the first
eight sonatas of Venice I, that are quite different in character from Scarlatti's usual writing. The
basses have little of the animation and color t o which Scarlatti has accustomed us. In terms of the
harpsichord they remain inert and without overtones like a bare unharmonized continuo. It has
occurred t o me that these sonatas might represent experiments in writing for the early piano.
 Domenico Scarlatti 91

(appended two years later, at the time of her death) of keyboard instruments
in her estate at that time. Kirkpatrick gives the full text only in Spanish,75
but it has since been printed in E n g l i ~ h TO. ~ ~illustrate my line of argument,
I give it in full, as I translated it in my dissertation (pp. 321-22):

KEYBOARD INSTRUMENTS

(1) A keyboard instrument of the pianoforte type (clavicordio de piano), made in

Firenze (Florencia), the interior all of cypress, the case of black poplar painted
the color of palosanto [a shade o f dark green], the keys of boxwood and ebony,
with 56 keys, and turned legs of beechwood.
(2) Another keyboard instrument of walnut, with five registers and four sets of strings
for plucking, the keyboard with 56 keys of ebony and mother-of-pearl, legs of
pine in three columns adorned with carving.
(3) Another quilled keyboard instrument, the cases of white poplar and its interior
of cedar and cypress with 61 keys of ebony and mother-of-pearl, with turned legs
of beechwood.
(4) Another quilled keyboard instrument that previously was a piano made in Firenze,
its interior of cypress and its exterior colored green, with 56 keys of ebony and
bone on turned legs of beech.
(5) Another keyboard instrument of the same kind and green color made also in Fi-
renze, originally a piano, and now plucked, with 50 keys of ebony and bone on
turned legs of beech.
(6) Another keyboard instrument of walnut with three sets of strings to pluck, with
58 keys of ebony and bone, on turned legs of beech.
(7) Another made in Flanders, the case darkly lacquered, with three sets of strings
t o pluck, keyboard of ebony and bone, on turned legs of beech.
(8) Another keyboard instrument of walnut with three sets of strings for plucking,
keyboard with 56 keys of ebony and bone on turned legs of beech.
From Don Gregorio Garcia de la Vega, who is here
and states that, along with the keyboard instruments
cited, Her Majesty also had four, two of which are in
Aranjuez and two in San Lorenzo, about which he
knows details, which I proceed t o inventory now:
(9) A clavicordio de piano, made in Firenze, of cypress, case colored pink, keyboard
of boxwood and ebony with 49 keys on turned legs of beech; it is at Aranjuez.
(10) Another, its exterior of white poplar and its interior of cedar and cypress with two
sets of strings to pluck, keyboard of ebony and mother-of-pearl, with 61 keys on
turned legs of beech that is also at Aranjuez.

75 Ibid., p. 361.

76
Raymond Russell, The Harpsichord and Clavichord (London, 1959), p. 185.

92 The Musical Quarterly

(11) Another pianoforte of green-colored cypress, keyboard of boxwood and ebony,

with 54 keys and turned legs of beech that may be found in the Royal Estate
at San Lorenzo.
(12) Another plucked keyboard instrument, the case of white poplar, and its interior
of cedar and cypress, keyboard of ebony and mother-of-pearl, with 61 keys on
turned legs of beech that also is in the estate at San Lorenzo.

These twelve instruments must be regarded as a minimal inventory,

not including other pianos or harpsichords that might previously have been
sold, given away, or transferred t o some other member of the Royal Family
or Inner Circle of the Court. Nor does it mention chamber organs of the
type called for in P and V, probably because these were fixed installations,
not the personal property of the Queen. As usual, the possible presence
of the small, fragile clavichords was too insignificant a matter t o mention.
During the twenty-eight years in which Scarlatti and his Queen collaborated
in propagating all this instrumental music, it hardly seems likely that these
twelve keyboards were the only ones at their disposal. This list may include
an instrument brought from Portugal when Maria Barbara left home t o
marry, but it seems far more likely that any keyboards on which they
worked in the first decade had perished in the conflagration of 1755.
The inventory does not tell us most of what we would like t o know
about these instruments but a considerable amount can be deduced from
it. Kirkpatrick used it but chose items that he felt would strengthen his
case for the harpsichord; contrary evidence is played down or denigrated."
He did not speculate on the age of the instruments, possible order of pur-
chase, or similar logistical data and until very recently, I had also thought
the data insufficient to sustain any theories (this situation may change
as so much new information about eighteenth-century instruments has
surfaced lately).
The court annually rotated among the three locations mentioned in
the list: Madrid, Aranjuez, and San Lorenzo. The first eight instruments
must have been in Madrid, with two each at the other sites. It seems rea-
sonable t o suppose that the beautifully bound V ~nanuscriptset was meant
to reside in Madrid, P in one of the other two locations, and either a third
copy (that has not come down t o us) or the so-called lost originals in the
other. Equal care must certainly have been expended on deciding which
instruments would sit in each location. The Queen would wish t o avail
herself of the opportunity to play as many pieces as she might fancy, on
as efficient a group of instruments as she could properly locate.

77
Kirkpatrick, Scarlatti, Chap. IX: pp. 137-74, seems especially dissonant t o the bulk of the
information in the testament.
 Domenico Scarlatti 93

The descriptions leave no doubt that nearly all the keyboards could
be classed as the Southern European type; in other words, as instruments
inserted into a box. Numbers ( I ) , (9), and (1 1) were Florentine pianos
made either by Christofori or his successor Ferrini, while (4) and ( 5 ) , ori-
ginally instruments of the same stamp, had at some time been converted
into harpsichords. At the other end of the sound spectrum, the combination
of a single manual, sixty-one keys, and the mother-of-pearl decorating
keys, clearly identifies numbers (3), ( l o ) , and (12), as harpsichords of
Spanish manufacture. Number (7), mentioned as originating in Flanders,
may have been rebuilt or at least repainted, since its dark green color clashes
with what has become known as Flemish decoration. Harpsichords numbers
(2), (6), and (8) form a somewhat mysterious group; the combinations
of their several constructive characteristics d o not coincide with the usual
manufacture of any makers (some unlikely Germans excepted) working
at that time. Unhappily the number of keys on the Flemish keyboard (7)
is not specified; the likely number would appear t o be fifty-six or fifty-
eight. From fewest t o greatest number of keys, the other eleven break
down as follows:

49 keys (9
50 (5)
54 (1 1)
56 (1) (2) (4) (8)
58 (6)
61 (3) (10) (12)

If we permit ourselves the not entirely unwarranted assumption that the

short octave no longer pertained to any of these manuals, or at least t o
those filling the key case, we may proceed to estimate the possible range
of each instrument. In the chart below, the ranges in black notes represent
the less likely combination; the number and letter combinations between
the staves will serve afterwards as the names for each range type:

It takes very little juggling of this list t o draw its most significant conclu-
sion: the Queen and her keyboard tutor made certain that in each residence
94 The Musical Quarterly

the minimal resources consisted of one 6 1X (or more likely 6 1Y) Spanish
harpsichord, and one Florentine piano, of variable range. In an attempt
t o get around this conclusion, Kirkpatrick cited the rebuilding of two
pianos into harpsichords as evidence of the unimportance of these instm-
ments in court musical life.78 But if something had gone seriously wrong
with the extraordinarily complex mechanisms of these pianos, it might
have been far beyond the ability or knowledge of local craftsmen t o repair
them. And it may have been more economical t o buy new pianos rather
than send the old ones back to Florence for repair. These rebuilt pianos
had fifty and fifty-six keys; the working pianos had forty-nine, fifty-four,
and fifty-six. Any piece in the official manuscripts with a range within
fifty-six keys might have been conceived for the Florentine piano. Other
factors must be considered, but it is surprising how much about P and
V can be inferred just from range.
No one would contend that Scarlatti went out of his way t o use the
full range of any keyboard available t o him in every single composition
written for that particular instrument. Considerations of key, motivic
material, and rhetoric preclude this. There has been some considerable
ado about the need for full five-octave, single-manual instruments to show
the beauties of the late-blooming Domenico properly. In view of this,
the following statistics may come as something of a surprise: only thirty-
one sonatas demand 61Y instruments, while a mere five call for 61X range;
another twenty-six call for a range greater than fifty-eight notes, and could
be played on either sixty-one type. The total number of sonatas unplayable
without the sixty-one-key harpsichord comes to just sixty-two. Just another
eleven sonatas could be played in fifty-eight-key range, but fall beyond
the limits of the fifty-six-key instruments; this makes the total number
of all sonatas definitely beyond the range capacity of the Queen's pianos
a modest seventy-three. Of course, only one of the pianos had so many keys,
and other factors make the likely number of harpsichord pieces far greater
than seventy-three-but also far less than 520. The light touch of the
harpsichord of this era applied just as well t o the piano; even organs of this
era have been said to have a fairly light touch and high keybed. Only the
clavichord required powerful, independent fingers in order t o produce a
musical result. How much direct control the performer had over the sonority
of the early piano (as opposed to the harpsichord) remains a matter of
controversy, since so few exemplars of the earliest instruments have survived
in pristine condition; but even a small expressive advantage in touch may
have meant an enormous amount to Scarlatti and Maria Barbara.
7a
His tendentious interpretation appears in Ibid., pp. 175-78; I'arinelli's own statement that
his second favorite instrument was a harpsichord contradicts the rigid connection between the Queen
and the harpsichord, on one side, and between him and the piano on the other.
 Domenico Scarlatti 95

There is an interesting collateral document that should be mentioned

at this point. This is the volume appearing in 1732, composed by Lodovico
Giustini di Pistoia, of XII sonate da cimbalo di piano, e forte, detto volgar-
mente di martelletti ("Twelve Sonatas for the Keyboard Instrument with
the Piano and Forte, Commonly Known as the Hammer-Action Instru-
ment").79 This is the only incontrovertible piano music that dates from
before 1760. It is also important because of its dedication t o Don Antonio,
the Portuguese Prince, brother of King Jo2o V, Scarlatti's other principal
pupil during the Portuguese years. This singles out the Portuguese Court
as an early patron of the Florentine i n ~ e n t i o n . ~We
' know that Maffei's
article on Cristofori's instrument circulated in Germany in 1725; we can
only speculate about how early it reached Iberia. Scarlatti could have seen
pianos during his early sojourns in northern Italy, but this also cannot
be authenticated. This key dedication strongly points t o the diffusion
of the piano in the 1720s at the time of Scarlatti's arrival in Portugal t o
concentrate on keyboard tuition of Antonio and Maria Barbara.81
These twelve Giustini pieces (really suites despite their use of the name
sonata), display some noteworthy stylistic features. Giustini tends t o gra-
vitate toward the middle range, avoiding extremes of high and low save
at certain key moments. The highest notes of the earliest pianos are said
to be weak in tone and penetrating ability; in this context, Giustini thins
out the texture when his melody goes high, or moves his accompanying
voices up into the treble range. Ten of the twelve sonatas can be played
on an instrument of 49X range, though two, employing the very low B,
require 50X range. Almost always, the notes at the low end of the range
are saved for the final cadence of either or both halves. The avoidance
of low chromatic notes might suggest short octave, but three sonatas show
use of full chromatics all the way t o the bottom of the keyboard. Very
few features of Giustini's style resemble that of Scarlatti. Some of the
fast movements employ a clear demarcation between phrases, as well as

79

Many copies of the first edition survive, and it has been published in facsimile, with a now
dated preface: Lodovico Giustini di Pistoja, Twelve Piano-forte Sonatas; facsim. ed. R. E. M. Harding
(Cambridge, 1933). The Preface, pp. v-xvi is followed by an extensive, useful errata list, pp. xvii-xxi.
The fifty-two movements form an interesting body t o compare with Scarlatti.
'O This point has been underscored recently, in the very important article by Stewart Pollens,
"The Early Portuguese Piano," Early Music, XI11 (1985), 18-27, in which, after the disaster of 1755,
as part of the recovery program, it is now clear that the Portuguese embarked o n a program of local
construction of fairly close imitations of the Cristofori-Ferrini models. Though Italian models for
these instruments d o not survive, we can now posit their existence in pre-1755 Portugal with security.
Anyone who now doubts that Scarlatti tutored his two pupils on, among other things, the pianoforte,
back in the 1720s, cannot be convinced by anything short of a signed confession.-
'' Perhaps the final link in this connection to the Portuguese court is the dedication of the
Essercizi of 1738 t o King JoHo V; even nine years after leaving Portugal, Scarlatti must have felt
terribly grateful to the monarch whose generosity and encouragement led t o his greatest successes.
96 The Musical Quarterly

a tendency toward regular phrase groupings, often of four measures each,

that some writers have regarded as a contribution of Scarlatti.
The biggest surprise here are the written-out acciaccaturas, the only ones
I have seen notated exactly like Scarlatti's, with the dissonant notes given in
full value like the consonant ones.82 Giustini employs these clashes only at
main cadences; they tend t o come singly and with a sense that they are ex-
perimental, even dangerous. Scarlatti's later usage, on the other hand, revels
in the crush, maintains it, and strives t o overpower the listener with the force
of the new sound.83 Both manifest a similar desire t o add bite t o the texture.
Perhaps we can speculate that both composers employ this special effect
because of the gentle, somewhat saccharine sonority of the gravicembalo col
piano e forte, as compared t o the abrasive twang of the harpsichord.
The entire notion sounds heretical, particularly after three generations
of harpsichordists who have gloried in the shock value of sonic attacks.
But nothing in the past history of the Zusammenschlag begins to rival
the effect of Giustini or Scarlatti, neither in frequency of usage nor in
the manner or position in which they appear. The Scarlatti sonatas that
exhibit the most pervasive, if not obsessive, treatment are:
K.105 115 119 124 134 137 138
141 175 181 193 212 215 249
and 262
The widest range of any of these pieces, attained by only one of them,
equals 56X; thus, not one falls outside the ranges of the Queen's pianos.
If we look beyond this group t o those sonatas in which the crush appears,
but plays a lesser role, we discover that these fall into two discrete groups
in P and V; the first group:

Locations of Giustini's "experimental dissonances," as Harding calls them: Sonata I, mvt.

l . , mm. 2, 12; Sonata I, mvt. 3, m. 14; Sonata 111, mvt. 3, mm. 6, 1 5 ; Sonata IV, mvt. 1 , mm. 8, 17;
Sonata V, mvt. 1 , mm. 2-3, 7, 19-21, 28-30, 39; Sonata VII, mvt. 1, m. 37; Sonata VII, mvt. 2, mm.
71-72, 105; and finally, Sonata XI, mvt. 2, m. 11. The only place where these are used profusely is
the first movement of Sonata V, the closest thing in Giustini to an "acciaccatura sonata."
" Frederick Neumann, Ornamentation in Baroque and Post-Baroque Music (Princeton, 1978),
pp. 486-87, takes a very unusual position on Scarlatti's crushes, as in his musical example 42.9, ex-
plained with force in his n. 22. He separates this type of Zusammenschlag from the type of acciaccatura
described by Gasparini and brought t o note by Peter Williams, "The Harpsichord Acciaccatura: Theory
and Practice in Harmony, 1650-1750," The Musical Quarterly, LIV (1968), 503-23. I will return t o
this debate in the section devoted t o ornaments. Hereafter, main source: Neumann, Ornamentation.
 Domenico Scarlatti 97

tends t o use either the repeated, insistent crush, or the one leading to a
cadence. Every one of these pieces also falls within the ranges of the Queen's
pianos. Then, after three volumes of P or V go by, with the ornament in
question entirely absent, we encounter a second group:

Here, the simultaneous neighbor note appears in a thin texture, most often
singly and gently. The discretion with which the device appears in these
sonatas contrasts markedly with the use of the acciaccatura in the first two
groups. These are the only ones that have the wider range of the harpsichord.
One may be forgiven for deducing that the crushing ornament is primarily
used in connection with the piano and is only secondarily a harpsichord
technique. The evidence may be circumstantial, but a pattern that is so con-
sistent through seventy-six sonatas ought to be impressive enough to warrant
further and deeper study. The touch and sound of the single-escapement
piano cannot be said to be a known quantity as yet; the Giustini sonatas
have been recorded on the Cristofori in New York's Metropolitan Museum of
Art,84 but reports about the feel and sound of other old pianos indicate a
wide variety of sound p o ~ s i b i l i t i e s .Now
~ ~ that it is arguable that much of
Scarlatti's masterwork may be piano music, organologists may be spurred to
recover as much as possible to serve a future reconstruction of this medium.
The possibility of organ composition by Scarlatti has marginally in-
terested several musicians. Kirkpatrick had to admit K. 287, 288, and
328 as organ works, since notations in the sources straightforwardly spelled
that out; the only other possibilities he offered were K. 254 and 255.86
Even earlier, Feruccio Vignanelli had offered a volume of four pieces,
respectively: K. 87, 328, 69, and 58, without explaining how he arrived
at his choices8' The five sonatas suggested by Kirkpatrick appeared under
the editorship of Douglass Greene,88 and the anthologies were brought to
84
Titanic Records, T I 78-79. Wladymir Horzowski, piano.
Stewart Pollens, "The Early Portuguese Piano," p.26, col. 2, reports o n the playing and sound
characteristics of a restored Portuguese model now owned by Harold Lester. Descriptions of other
instruments of this type have been somewhat reduced in utility, because of changes in the building
status of the instrument after the description was made. I hope the renewed interest in this instrument
leads t o more detailed exploration of their qualities.
" Kirkpatrick, Scarlatti, as in n. 63 above. Mention of K. 254 and 255 in his narrative must
be regarded as minimal, incidental t o other discussions.
The full citation of this now rare work: Domenico Scarlatti, Quatho sonate, transcritte per
organo da Ferruccio Viganelli (Rome, 1960); 1st ed. (1941) (Musiche Vocali e Strumentale, Sacre e
Profane, sec. XVII-XIX, ed. B. Somma, no. 3).
Five Organ Sonatas, ed. D. Greene (New York, 1962).
98 The Musical Quarterly

the present number by Loek Hautus, who felt he could include eight, re-
spectively: K. 41, 58, 93, 254, 255, 287, 288, and 328.89 The most im-
portant review of this last edition, and discussion of the subject since Kirk-
patrick, attacked the inclusion of K. 254-55 on important grounds:90 the
interpretation of two written indications and the near certainty that organs
of this era possessed short octaves. In both P and V, in the notation of
K. 255, Oytabado appears at measure 37, and Tortorilla at measure 64
(though not similarly notated in the second half, the parallelism seems
so strong that similar indications ought to apply at mm. 122 and 141,
respectively). Kirkpatrick and his followers read these terms as organ stops.
Hautus explains the first as derived from the Spanish octava tapada, a
four-foot stop; the second he translates as " t u r t l e d ~ v e . " ~No~ Spanish
organ thus far examined shows a stop with anything close to this latter
designation, but most of the studies have involved large church and other
institutional installations, while these pieces clearly call for an organo da
camera. 92 Tagliavini argues that oytabado refers t o a popular Portuguese
dance called the oitavado, and thinks that the melodic motive ti-do-sol, re-
curring throughout the tortorilla section, is a stylization of the call of the
t ~ r t l e d o v e .His
~ ~arguments are compelling without being entirely convincing;
not enough is known about the Portuguese oitavado, and the turtledove
cooing I have heard does not sound like the motive cited by Tagliavini.
Oytabado might be a past participle form of "octavedV-that is, an octave
higher, a 4' by itself.94 "Turtledove" is most properly tdrtola, a word with
only one r; its normal diminutives, tortolilla or tortolita, might possibly be
distorted into tortorilla. (The French word for turtledove is Tourtourelle;
there is a similar form, tortorella, in Italian.) But the word may also be
the lesser form of the near-obsolete tortor, a nautical term referring t o a
lashing device on old sailing ships that binds together separate spars or
masts.95 This interpretation points t o a coupling device; if this is correct,
K. 255 ought t o begin with an eight-foot stop, switch t o a four-foot, and
finish each half by coupling them. The fact that the terms do not recur
in the second half (Scarlatti carefully marks his organ stops all the way
through K. 287, 288, and 328), points toward Tagliavini's interpretation.
89 Sonaten und Fugen fur Orgel, ed. L. Hautus (Kassel, 1968).
90 This group is fully cited above in n. 35. I will cite the most recent publication, hereafter, as
Tagliavini, "Remarks."
9' HAUTUS, p. 2 of the Vorwort (Foreword), in two columns, in German and English.
92 Typical of this pattern, Peter Williams, The European Organ, 1450-1850 (Bloomington,

1966), Chap. VII: Spain and Portugal, pp. 235-69. Nothing here could be called a chamber organ.
9 3 Tagliavini, "Remarks," pp. 323-24.
94 Williams, European Organ, p. 253; Oitava appears as a four-foot stop name on the Braga

SB organ, in three places.

9 5 The clearest definition I have found occurs in the Diccionario d e la lengua espanola, 17a ed.

(Madrid, 1947), p. 1234.

 Domenico Scarlatti 99

The low range of this work exceeds expectations for Spanish organs, but the
stops may refer t o a harpsichord as well as t o an organ. Perhaps Scarlatti felt,
in this case, the need t o specify cembalo registration, something he usually
left t o the performer. I certainly agree with Tagliavini that the musical style
of K. 254 and 255 seems far better suited t o harpsichord than organ.
Tagliavini's criticism of the registration of K. 328 in HAUTUS confirms
my earlier assertion on this point.96 His dictum that the range of these
organs never exceeded D in alt at the upper end, or D below the bass staff
at the lower, with a short lowest octave, containing n o chromatics save
F sharp and B flat, can hardly be questioned. Most of Scarlatti's com-
positions d o exceed this limit, but in the volumes in which K. 287, 288,
and 328 are found, we encounter a number of other compositions that
fall within the same limits-a specification not noted by other writers t o
date. These pieces include:

I d o not contend that all these pieces belong on the organ, but a comparative
study of them, checked against 287, 288, and 328, ought t o reveal about
a dozen similarly oriented works. Features such as imitative texture on an
extended basis, an extraordinarily low level of chordal dissonance of any
type, tones sustained over several measures, and closely spaced chords in
the higher registers, all point toward the organ.
These middle volumes of P and V also contain a very few examples
of another sort of sonata, with a somewhat less restricted range but with
other characteristics that clearly separate them from the main body of
Scarlatti's work. K. 322 (opening, see Plate IV) may be as perfect an ex-
ample of this type as can be found. The composer eschews all elements
of virtuosity and many of the staples of his ordinary style. Gone are the
rapid scales, the machine-gun repeated notes, the thick chords (with or
without acciaccatura), the leaps and crossing of hands, and the motivic,
or at least material, integration of the two hands. The texture tends t o
stay so painfully thin that the player feels impelled t o add a third voice-at
the risk of mining the piece. The music implies more than it is willing t o
spell out, as though the composer had drained off all information from other
voices and hidden it, in some magical way, in the existing two voices.
96
Tagliavini, "Remarks," p. 324, n. 94, final paragraph; in my dissertation, see p. 351 for the
justification, and pp. 645-46 for m y transcription of P and V.
The Musical Quarterly
 Domenico Scarlatti 101

I am not the first person t o put forward the idea that this movement,
and others like it, forms an unusual group of virtuoso pieces intended
for the one keyboard instrument which requires a special virtuosity in
bringing o u t the inner value of each note: the clavichord. Dart thought
the clavichord might best be associated with the sign: tre. or trem. for
tremulo, which he linked t o the clavichord's vibrato, commonly known
as B e b ~ n g But
. ~ ~this sign occurs in pieces whose technical demands would
tax the clavichord far beyond its limits. I feel sure that these pieces, which
sound empty and unfulfilled o n the piano or harpsichord, can attain a depth
and intensity of expression and expose an entirely new side of the art of
Scarlatti if they are played only on the clavichord. There d o not seem
t o be many such pieces (perhaps ten o r less) but, potentially, they show
the composer's sensitivity t o more than one medium and may expand
our view of Domenico Scarlatti, the "harpsichord sonata composer."98
T o review: I have come t o believe that the collections of P and V reveal
more about Scarlatti's organology than his chronology. V/1742 might
be a catchall for all sorts of things, including ensemble works. V/1749,
V/I-IV, and P/I-V seem largely conceived with the early pianoforte in mind.
V/V-VIII and P/VI-IX include a variety of pieces for various keyboards,
including both organ and clavichord works. Finally, V/IX-XI11 and PIX-XV
seem t o contain harpsichord pieces and nothing else. I would estimate
that, after further sorting, a minimum of 200 sonatas will come t o be as-
sociated with the pianoforte, a similar number will be definitively linked
t o the harpsichord, a dozen or more will fall t o the organ and, at most,
ten will fit in best as clavichord pieces. Unless our methods o r evidence
become far more precise than they appear at this time, another hundred
or so sonatas will probably never be assigned; for example, several in the
56X range seem equally effective on the piano or harpsichord, and I see
n o way of determining their medium with precision. On all four instruments,
however, Scarlatti's wider sensitivity t o touch and other aspects of tech-
nique, previously allowed him at the harpsichord only, will become
apparent.
Scarlatti's written ornaments consist of very, very few signs. In most
second- and third-generation French manuscripts and editions of Scarlatti,
the copyists and copy editors added signs of the French clavecin school,
but it is unlikely that any of this stems from Scarlatti himself. Some have
97 Robert Thurston Dart, "Kirkpatrick, Scarlatti" (review), Music and Letters, X X X V (1954),

146-47; the list of sonatas I offer below o n p. 102, includes such a wide-band spectrum of sonata
types that any connection of this ornament with a specific instrument must be precluded.
9a Igor Kipnis' recording of K. 323 and 323 (Angel 32-37310, side 2, band 2), convincingly
demonstrates the appropriateness of the clavichord for this pair; his notes give the correct rationale
for his choice as well.
102 The Musical Quarterly

sought t o link these signs with the composer's earliest years in Italy, because
many such signs appear first in Ed.R-1 and its copies. This reasoning assumes
that Thomas Roseingrave's ornaments represent an early stage of Scarlatti's
development because of their allegedly close association in Italy. But these
French signs are not used by any Italian contemporaries of Scarlatti during
the first two decades of the eighteenth century. Furthermore, Roseingrave
underwent many later influences in the three decades between his Italian
link t o Scarlatti and his pirating of ESS. In addition, Roseingrave may
be regarded as a colorful rather than a trustworthy witness o r disciple.
The marking tremulo or its abbreviations occur very rarely; unless
transcription errors have turned tre into tr, it seems t o appear only in:

I first heard the idea that the tremulo might be a mordent from the dis-
tinguished harpsichordist and organist Louis Bagger in 1970. The idea
has been convincingly amplified by Neumann who argues that this tremulo,
more properly tremulo d i sotto, falls into the tradition of tremulus descen-
dens. This seems appropriate t o every situation, as Neumann points out
with characteristic thoroughness, save one in K. 96, where the marking
tremulo d i sopra has t o mean a continuous trill with the upper partial.99
The way tr and tre are alternated in K. 175 amply illustrates the point;
Neumann always selects a most telling case t o drive home his point.loO
Neumann's principal contention, that all Scarlatti's trills begin on the
main note, is as persuasive as his similar contentions for most other Baroque
music. Neumann and almost everyone who has examined the Scarlatti
works agree that the wavy line and the tr sign mean exactly the same thing
and are used interchangeably by the main scribe and by others.lO' At the
present time, I cannot present any alternative view of this, but I suspect
that more study of the notation may reveal some pattern of differences
between the two types of trill sign. Thus far I can only surmise that P
seems t o transmit more logical information on this subject than V; perhaps
some other factor will reveal itself t o clear up the mystery. A similar con-
fusion about the little notes, their value, and ultimate meaning pervades
the sources.
9 9 Neumann, Ornamentation, pp. 352-53, especially musical Ex. 30.19. SIENA 1985, at a

forum, interacted informally on this subject a number of times, with Pagano, myself, and several
others taking strong positions in agreement with Neumann; by the end of the convention, this seemed
t o have attained the status of consensus.
l o o Ibid., p. 354, E x . 30.20, section e.

l o ' Ibid., top of p. 352.

 Domenico Scarlatti 103

A sort of delicate irrationality governs almost every aspect of Scarlatti's

binary compositions. An executant who sees twenty wavy lines in a move-
ment and renders them in an identical way each time is hardly being "faith-
ful" to the sign, t o the concept of ornamentation, or t o a composer as
piquant as Scarlatti. Not enough attention has been paid t o the elements
of imbalance in this music, t o the ways in which supposedly parallel places
do not function or behave in parallel manners.''* When Robert Donington
noticed that a passage in even values in one half of a Scarlatti sonata con-
trasted with a dotted version of the similar place in the other half, he attri-
buted this t o non-intentional inequality.lo3 Without going into the question
of notes inkgales, let me assert that my observations point t o the absolute
intentionality of even these "small discrepancies," as Donington calls them.
The basic structure of most Scarlatti binary pieces may achieve balance, but
the details exert a centrifugal force, twisting one way and another, creating
all sorts of little surprises, and making the most unexpected connections.
Sometimes, as in many of the thirty pieces in ESS., Scarlatti had t o make
adjustments in the second half for reasons of range limitation, but he made
these work in his favor by employing rhythmic or motivic changes as well.
Even on instruments that do not possess these range limitations, such al-
terations should not be "fixed"; this usually produces, not an improvement,
but a surrender to predictability.'04
T o maintain the flow of originality and controlled chaos in Scarlatti's
style, it seems t o me to be highly desirable to extemporize on the repeats
of both halves-more so than in most other music. This flies in the face
of traditional opinions on this subject,lo5 but the more I hear and examine
these pieces, the more ineffectual literal repetition seems. Each piece pre-
sents its own challenge, its own subject matter and method of presentation;
each requires the formulation of a policy of extemporization commensurate
with Scarlatti's blueprint. Application of preexistent formulas will not work,
lo' In a paper presented this year at an International Scarlatti Convention in Siena, Italy, spon-
sored by the Fondazione Accademia Musicale Chigiana, called "Uncertainties in Scarlatti's Musical
Language," I plan to concentrate o n this aspect of the keyboard music.
l o 3 "A Problem of Inequality," The Musical Quarterly, LIII (1967), 513.

lo' On a recent Telefunken release, TV-2635487, Scott Ross takes every opportunity to alter

the text he purportedly uses (GILBERT) to employ an extended range and make the texts of the
two halves match. For the sheer sport, I will not cite the locations of any of the alterations.
l o ' Kirkpatrick, Scarlatti, especially o n pp. 365-67, maintains that extraneous embellishment of
Scarlatti's music by a performer falls outside the composer's intent, because of the distance between
Scarlatti's milieu and that covered by the Teutonic treatises that most strongly counsel improvisa-
tion. Charles Rosen, The Classical Style: Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven (New York, 1972), p. 63, claims
extemporization t o be both unnecessary and counterproductive, causing dramatically discrete phrases
t o overlap, an observation he applies t o Bach as well as Scarlatti. I simply disagree with both, as the
main text tries to make clear: the improvisatory art never died anywhere in Europe through the
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and many ornaments, when applied away from phrase junctions,
may make the phrases' separation clearer rather than the reverse.
104 The Musical Quarterly

nor will the mere addition of trills o r passagework. Analysis of each piece
will be required t o expose the components of the "ingenious jesting with
art," with which Scarlatti conceals the "profound learning" behind his
seemingly "easy and varied style."lo6 Unlike Bach and Handel, Scarlatti
left us few models of improvisatory practice. With his music containing
so high a degree of internal contrast of every kind, improvisation has t o
become recomposition t o be believable. In the Igor Kipnis recording pre-
viously cited in Part I of this essay, he attempts an improvisation in almost
every situation, but these tend to sound similar in type and effect from
piece t o piece and, in most cases, dull our sensitivity t o the essential matter
of each composition. In my opinion, his handling of additions in the triptych
K. 204a-204b-205 produces the best effect, while his handling of K. 87
utterly fails. This B-minor sonata (perhaps the most intricate and moving
of the presumed ensemble arrangements mentioned in the first part of this
essay) flows in measured eighths that shift from voice t o voice. It may
be Scarlatti's most interesting essay in non-imitative counterpoint with
a series of aborted sequences, cross-relations, suspensions, and surprising
phrase overlaps. The kinds of improvisational ideas that Kipnis chooses
t o elaborate in this piece are concerned with none of the above factors.
Most jarring of all, they disturb the flow, adding so much spastic inner
motion that, when the second half is played the first time, it seems totally
out of place. Also, the choice of clavichord for this piece interferes with
the balance of the voices form the outset and makes the improvisation
more difficult to project and less contextual than it might have seemed
on piano or harpsichord.
I consider this sonata a perfect vehicle for the piano, an instrument that
would allow the player to balance the texture with unparalleled care, making
every nuance speak properly, without stopping, and without requiring
overstatement or understatement. As a final manifestation of my reckless-
ness, I offer the text of musical Example 3 for comparison with the first
half of K. 87 in, say, GILBERT or FADINI. It seems t o me a primitive
but reasonable solution to the formulation of a kind of extemporization
that does the particular piece justice. Hardly a measure is left unaltered,
but the flow of motoric eighths sustains itself through both performances.
Small shifts in counterpoint, the insertion of extra cross-relations, the
restriking of pedal tones, some controlled syncopations, and the heighten-
ing of relationships already present the first time constitute the whole of
the manipulations made here. (The A naturals in mm. 4 and 10 are not
additions; both of these notes appear in the sources, but are not accepted
by GILBERT and receive only half-hearted notice in FADINI.) The principle

'06 These quotations all come, of course, from the famous introduction, to the Lettore, from ESS.
 Domenico Scarlatti

Ex. 3: K. 87, first half, second time.

106 The Musical Quarterly

is that all the changes are based upon the original material. Tendency-tones
that reverse course soon after being sounded, a notable though not overbearing
feature of the original are emphasized: the A natural at the outset of measure 4
changes t o A sharp on its last bass tone; the E sharps of measure 7 transmute
to E natural in measure 8 ; the A sharp of measure 8 becomes A natural in
measure 9; the D naturals of measures 9 and 10 momentarily move t o D sharp
at the end of measure 10 only t o fall back t o D natural in measure 1 1, turn t o
the sharp side in measure 12, and fall back t o natural in measure 14; the
C-natural C-sharp shift within measure 13; and so forth. I add the G-sharp
G-natural combination of measure 2, then reverse it with the G-natural
G-sharp combination of measure 5. I follow this with at least five such
relationships not in the original, from which I derive the passing chromatic
tones in the bass of measures 25 and 26. The goal (whether achieved or not)
is the establishment of a text that does not seem new but projects new and
fresh facets of the musical material already heard. This ought t o be the goal
of ornamentation and extemporization; music of this caliber deserves no less.

There are many ancillary aspects of Scarlatti's style that come t o mind
but are difficult to place a frame around: the folk and popular elements
of his style and the way his music interacts with that of other composers
in his narrow or wide orbits; the possible logic of his harmony, his counter-
point, his very personal use of imitation, the way he controls contrast,
or articulates his material and its phrase groupings. At present, only some
fugitive observations may be made because there are too many changes
taking place in the way we look at his music and too many changes in
the way evidence is being weighed and evaluated. Most of these should
be considered as starting points for future discussion.
Despite interest of some early Scarlattians, the matter of Iberian
influence has barely been touched; Granados, Longo, Valabrega, even
Kirkpatrick, merely suggested the right direction. In a series of recent
exploratory papers, not all available in public print, Jane Clark has begun
t o find some concrete connections, at least on the Spanish side.lo7 She
reminds us that Domenico's first four years in Spain, before Fernando
and Maria Barbara became established in Madrid, were spent in Seville
and neighboring Andalucfa, an area whose vivid musical expression differs
markedly from the dour sonorities of the central provinces. Few have
looked into this idea for models for Scarlatti melodies or musical procedures.
So far there is little specific information but the long-range possibilities,
import, or utility are not yet clear. There are the usual documentary and
acculturation problems, but there is also the sense that powerful linkages do
lo' "Domenico Scarlatti and Spanish Folk Music: A Performer's Re-appraisal," Early Music,
I V (1976), 19-22; for the unpublished papers, see GILBERT, Vol. I, "Preface," p. x, n. 10.
 Domenico Scarlatti 107

exist and will emerge in time. On this matter, as in so many others, the
documentary losses in the Portuguese conflagration of 1755 cost us greatly.
Scarlatti's harmony, tonality, and dissonance procedures have been
discussed in far greater detail than most other aspects of his music. Kirk-
patrick's contribution covers enough of the basic issues to serve as a con-
tinuing basis for refinement;''' in those areas of disagreement, the issues
have been aired.log The acciaccatura as a harmonic phenomenon, however,
must take into account the objections of Neumann:

Peter Williams . . . tried to prove the international currency of the Zusammenschlag

but was misled by the double meaning of the word acciaccatura. What he calls the "pas-
sing acciaccatura," e.g. Gasparini's mordente, was certainly practiced everywhere and
was particularly at home with the French clavecinists as arpkge'figure'. Also, the kinds
of clashes that on onbeat Vorschlag produces with its resolution in another voice were
common in all countries. But the Zusammenschlag in the narrower sense, one that enters
unprepared and exits unresolved, was an entirely different matter. The irrationality
of this practice, which even estranged the German admirers of Italian ways, would have
offended the French ideals of clarity and logic."0

As an illustration of the flights of Scarlatti's harmonic imagination, so

different from Gasparini's simultaneous mordent, Neumann offers what we
quote as musical Example 4, citing its dissonances as "relentless pounding"
that is the "clear artistic intention," and "integral parts of its structure.""'
I do not argue against the clear intent that the clashes sound for the full
duration of the note values involved, but the pounding may be mitigated by
the touch of the old piano, and the structure of the chord remains best
understood as apart from the dissonant tones.

Ex. 4: K. 119, mm. 163-66

Io8 Kirkpatrick, Scarlatti, Chap. X, pp. 207-50, an amplified version of an article in Score, V
(1951), 33-52, and VI (1952), 44-51.
Io9 Joel Sheveloff, "Scarlatti," New Grove Dictionary, XIV, 570, col. 2; 572, col. 1, incl. musical
Exx. 1-4.
'lo Ornamentation, p. 487, n. 22.
11' Ibid., p. 486.
108 The Musical Quarterly

The chordal sonority of measure 163 is E-G-Bb-D; the tied-over sounds

on the first eighth in the right hand, in this measure as well as in each of
the succeeding ones, ought t o be regarded as a suspension and thus not
part of the crush. Thus, in measure 163, the only inexplicably dissonant
tone is the A in the right hand. In measure 164, the chordal sonority shifts
t o A-C#-E-G, and the only "unaccountable" tones are the D's in each hand.
The position shifts in measure 165, but once again the chord is E-G-Bb-D,
with A as the only nonchord tone. In every case, the dissonant tone can
only be viewed as a lower neighbor-the A's t o B flat, the D's t o E. When
ten tones sound together, only one is truly functionally dissonant; when
eleven tones sound, two are dissonant, but they are an octave apart. All
of Scarlatti's acciaccaturas are lower neighbors, and the dissonance quotient
in them has been greatly exaggerated, in my opinion, by the unpleasant
sound they produce in most harpsichord performance, overregistered and
pounded. The actual effect, original and startling, though not percussively
chaotic, has been described by Neumann accurately, but it has yet t o be
experienced in the fullness of its nuances and delicacy. Practitioners of
this literature on replicas of the earliest pianos ought t o practice the places
in which the acciaccatura occurs without the added notes actually sounding.
When the harmonic rhythm of the whole feels right, the spice can be added
with just the right distribution of touch and weight.
Unlike Neumann, many writers exaggerate the special effects of Scar-
latti, analyzing acciaccaturas as Stravinskiian, rhythmic overlappings or
metric shifts as Webernian, and, in one case, calling the subject of the in-
famously titled "Cat's Fugue," K. 30, "one of the most chromatic, almost
atonal, ever devised before Bart6k."'12 K. 30's subject does behave in a
different way from that of its contemporaries, but exaggerated description
ought not t o substitute for analysis. Out of the twelve possible pitch classes,
the fugue theme contains only eight. A few Bach and Handel examples
contain nine, ten, or eleven; a very few, like the B-minor subject in the
first volume of the Well-Tempered Clavier, contain all twelve. Fugue sub-
jects in the Beethoven, Berlioz, and Brahms eras commonly reach the full
spectrum of twelve even more often. The theme or subject of K. 30 is
simply not one of the most chromatic before Bartok.
"Atonal" has become a technical term, as well as a pejorative epithet.
Does this subject really explode G minor, its nominal key? Every tone
in the theme, save for one, is contained within the usual ascending and
descending forms of G minor; the exception, C sharp, is the familiar leading
tone t o the dominant. The theme (see musical Ex. 5) in which Scarlatti's

'IZ Roy Honatt, "Domenico Scarlatti (insert booklet)," Domenico Scarlatti: 30 Essercizi per
gravicembalo; Scott Ross, harpsichord. Telefunken, 2635487, 1977, p. 11.
 Domenico Scarlatti 109

version appears on line d, concludes with a perfectly normal descent from

the dominant to the tonic. The "atonal" part of the subject occurs in its
second and third measures only, and can be explained thus:

Ex. 5 : K. 30, analysis

The subject in line a simply outlines the tonic triad through two octaves
before falling by step the final fifth. Chromatic tones normally enter as
passing tones (accented or not), neighbor tones, or that type of incomplete
neighbor known as the appoggiatura. Line b introduces the E flat of measure
2 and the C sharp of measure 3 as such neighbors, approached by leap
by left by step. Such nonharmonic tones became so common in this era
that they developed a life of their own, as in line c, where all the tones on
the strong beats through measures 2-3 resolve t o their essential triadic
elements, the same notes presented in line a. In K. 30, however, the non-
harmonic tones enter unprepared and exit unresolved. Once one has played
lines a, b, and c, and the sense of the underlying triad has been firmly
set in mind, Scarlatti's subject becomes perfectly tonal, and its strange
notes comprehensible. Nevertheless, the question remains: How can a
melody work in a tonal setting if important tones are left unresolved?
The only answer is that the dissonant or ambiguous tones may have their
resolutions delayed: the E flat, like the C sharp in the next octave, resolves
110 The Musical Quarterly

t o the climactic D at the start of measure 4; the F sharp must wait until
it recurs at the end of measure 4 and then resolves t o G in measure 5 . If
the F sharp in measure 2 had been a G, it would have defined a new down-
beat and produced a cross-metric accent as in line e. The "Cat's Fugue"
subject is not atonal at all but tonally attenuated through the employment
of nonharmonic tones approached by leap and resolved only after signifi-
cant delaying tactics; the difference carries important aesthetic as well
as technical weight. Audiences have always enjoyed these Scarlatti attenua-
tions. K. 30 itself remained a favorite encore piece in nineteenth-century
piano recitals; Brahms loved t o play it in public and private, bringing out
all its crooked voice-leading with relish. Nearly all of Scarlatti's few sur-
viving fugues employ audacious subjects. Among the sonatas, one can
find pseudo-fugues, like K. 3 15, that manipulate the expectations of fugal
procedure in a playful way that performers usually fail t o clarify. Most
of the time, imitation appears only sporadically t o tease the listener rather
than as a fully developed logical procedure.
Several recent studies on keyboard fingering have reached the stage
at which some general principles of fingering can be adumbrated, although
not quite yet at the level of practical advice.l13 Though Domenico left
us no fingerings, those left by his father may shed considerable light on
his own practice. The operas of Domenico remain a far more frustrating
problem than the instrumental music, as all come down t o us in fragments.
The recent appearance of a version of one of Domenico's most interesting
entertainments, La dirindina, may, I hope, be the harbinger of renewed
interest in these works, and a systematic approach t o their problem^."^
' I 3 Among the many publications that have dealt with some aspect of this subject, I recommend
Robert Parkins, "Keyboard Fingering in Early Spanish Sources," Early Music, XI (1983), 323-31;
also Mark Lindley, "An Introduction t o Alessandro Scarlatti's 'Toccata prima'," Early Music, X
(1982), 333-39; also Mark Lindley, "Keyboard Technique and Articulation: Evidence for the Per-
formance Practices of Bach, Handel and Scarlatti," Bach, Handel, Scarlatti: Tercentenary Essays,
ed. P. Williams (Cambridge, 1985), pp. 207-43. The question the last article raises about the glis-
sando with or without a B flat has long troubled me; I find it unconscionable of Scarlatti t o be so
careless about so special and original a technique (see pp. 221-22). Most of the useful data in these
articles seem to apply far more t o Bach and Handel, as well as to many lesser figures, than t o Scarlatti,
whose breakthroughs in technique have yet t o be fully appreciated. It seems an especial shame that
fingering information fell out of favor during Scarlatti's generation, and so few treatises or pieces
with fingering survive. We may have more questions than answers on this matter for a long time.
'I4 Francesco Degrada, "Una sconosciuta esperienza teatrale di Domenico Scarlatti: 'La Dirin-
dina.'," Memorie e contributi alla musica dal medioevo all'eta moderno; Offerti a Federico Ghisi
nel settantesimo compleano (1902-1971), ed. G . Vecchi (Bologna, 1971) (Antiquae musicae italicae
studiosi), pp. 229-64. Degrada has published his edition of La Dirindina and has several other vocal
works in various stages of preparation. The vocal performances in SIENA 1985 were all based o n his
editions; his participation in the discussions there revealed a man of outstanding organizational cap-
ability who may very well end up being the editor-in-chief of any future Domenico Scarlatti Opere
complete. Together with Robert Pagano in biographical studies, these men appear t o be the leaders
of the Scarlattians for the remainder of this century.
 Domenico Scarlatti 111

Comment on connections between Bach and Handel and the Italian

who shares their birth year seem especially appropriate here. Silbiger's
recent revelation about the quotations by Handel in his Opus 6 concerti
grossi of many pieces in ESS. have caused me no end of ernbarras~ment."~
I thought I knew the Handel concertos almost as well as the Scarlatti key-
board works, but I never noticed the connections. Not all of Silbiger's
examples could be classed as obvious or easily noticeable, but they all
seem correct. Silbiger also well covers the nature of the alterations Handel
made to integrate these alien ideas into his style; this tightly packed article
offers more information and insight than I recall finding in so small a space.

Ex. 6: Handel fugue subject, comparison

Andante

Now that I see the connection, I cannot help but express disappointment
at Handel's reworking of the "Cat's Fugue'' as the subject of the second
movement of Concerto I11 (see Ex. 6, line a). Its D sharp may be as atten-
uated as Scarlatti's F sharp, but the long C natural seems to disrupt the
momentum of the theme. The way Handel notated it, as two dotted quarters
tied together rather than as a dotted half, makes one wonder whether an
earlier version existed in which some other note occupied the fourth beat
of the first full measure, as I suggest in lines b and c. Perhaps Handel thought
this (or something like it) would betray the source too easily.
Silbiger notes that Handel, especially in appropriating K. 2 in the last
movement of his Concerto I, borrows Scarlatti's tendency toward "distinct
four-bar ~egrnents,""~ a feature he claims to be somewhat atypical for

""Alexander Silbiger, "Scarlatti Borrowings in Handel's 'Grand Concertos'," Musical Times,

CXXV (1984), 93-95.
'I6 Zbid., p. 93, col. 2.
112 The Musical Quarterly

Handel. It seems t o me that this tendency had appeared sporadically in

Handel for some time before Opus 6; even the Opus 3 Concertos, probably
completed two decades earlier, show significant examples in 1111 and 4,
IV/4, V/5, and t o a lesser extent, 111.5 and VI/2. Most of Handel's break-
aways from four-measure groups occur as one- or (more often) two-measure
additions, forming a five- or six-measure phrase. Scarlatti, on the contrary.
exhibits a powerful tendency toward an opposite procedure, particularly
in this very K. 2: the first half opens with seven four-measure groups, fol-
lowed by three three-measure groups; the second half proceeds with eight
four-measure phrases, finishing with similar three three-measure units.
And the three-measure groupings seem t o be made by compressing material
that would normally have occupied the full four measures. The increased
drive t o the cadence produced by this metric coup seems not t o have af-
fected Handel; at least I d o not notice any important usage of compression
in Opus 6.
About a decade ago, for the first time since the revision of the Bach
chronology and all of its attendant ramifications, Robert Lewis Marshall
resuscitated the old notion that the dazzling keyboard technique of the
Goldberg Variations might reflect the influence of Domenico, at least
of the thirty sonatas in ESS."7 He admits the personal contacts between
Bach's and Scarlatti's circles t o have been few and vague, but based his
suggestions largely on the possibility that a copy of ESS. of 1738 might
have found its way to a Leipzig book fair by 174 1. My examination of the
distribution of the early editions leads me t o doubt this. ESS. and Ed.R-1
seem t o have circulated almost entirely in the British Isles. Ed.W of Am-
sterdam did not see the light of day until 1742-too late t o have played
a role in the creation of Clavierubung I V . Almost all evidence for the cir-
culation of Scarlatti editions in Central Europe points t o the 1750s and
1760s. Moreover, aside from a superficial surface, little in the Aria /nit
verschiedenen Veranderungen, resembles Scarlatti. I see n o need t o look
further than Bach's own inner development for an explanation of the spec-
tacular virtuoso variations near the end of his great collection: his own
virtuosity took different turns both before and after this work because
of the nature of the forms in which he worked. Only in this set did he
carry variation of an entire polyphonic complex t o such a point. The most
inventive musical mind of all time need not have seen Scarlatti's thirty
little pieces t o discover the technical capacity for this most brilliant, but
also most naturally constructed, keyboard music. It would be foolhardy
of me t o deny the possibility of some connection here t o Scarlatti, but
it seems very unlikely.
"' "Bach the Progressive: Observations on his Later Works," The Musical Quarterly, LXII
(1976), 342-49.
 Domenico Scarlatti 113

Too little discussion has been focused on Scarlatti's contributions

to the development of musical style. Among those hardly listed are: ( I ) his
ability to maintain forward momentum, with far more internal cadences,
many of them full stops, than is characteristic of his predecessors or con-
temporaries; (2) his ability to juxtapose unrelated material without losing
a powerful sense of contextuality; (3) his ability t o permute materials
so delicately that we lose track of the order in which they first appeared,
and do not see how he has tricked us; (4) the creation of a prefabricated
structure, from cells of two measures, phrases of four, phrase groups of
eight, t o serve as building blocks for a mosaic form in which much of the
delicacy of the technique gets reserved for the connective tissue; ( 5 ) ex-
ploitation of the insistent effect of repetition, almost t o the point of ob-
session; (6) exploration of distant and unlikely tonal relations without
any need for making the transitions smooth; (7) the incredible resource-
fulness through which he extended, elided, switched textures, and made
the mortar between his bricks close to undetectable; (8) the near-presti-
digitation of the voice-leading which allows him almost all his other excesses.
As Scarlatti's prestige grew steadily in the years after his death, these tech-
niques gradually transformed their contexts and built the style of the High
Classical period. Without Scarlatti's pervasive influence, this process might
have taken much longer. Even vocal music owes a great deal t o the Scar-
latti sonatas, and the chronicle of these technical developments has not
even begun t o be written.
An ideal edition of Domenico Scarlatti's keyboard works seems farther
away than ever now that GILBERT is available, and FADINI's completion
appears less than a decade away. Why would anyone bother with another
publication when these two, whose virtues have already been chronicled
in countless reviews, appear t o cover the subject? Even more scrupulously
than GILBERT, FADINI contrives t o make the page turns follow the format
of P and V, always beginning on a verso, so that no turn need be made
save at the "double bar." With such details resolved, can any important
issues remain? 'I8
Nevertheless, most of the issues raised in the essay have not been dealt
with in either edition, These include: (1) the formulation of a consistent,
musicologically sound policy toward the relative worth and credibility of
the sources; (2) a clearly defined attitude toward, and exegesis of, the
large and small issues of order, whether chronological, organological, or
organizational (that is, the issue of two- or three-sonata groups); (3) the
fact that pieces other than K. 8 and K. 52 exist in more than one version,
"'Many of the most interesting questions have been sensibly raised, in Alexander Silbiger,
"Scarlatti: Sonate, ed. E. Fadini" (review), Rivista Musicale Italians, XIV (1980), 659-62.
114 The Musical Quarterly

and that the compromise text by the editor might distort the reality of all of
the discrete sources; (4) the courage t o print the music in the same format as
Scarlatti's copyists transmit it, even if it does not seem as practical as "mod-
ernizing", (5) providing an accompanying text for each sonata, as well as for
the whole, that would let the performers make the important choices, rather
than have them made in advance by the editors. As research unearths new in-
formation and fresh evaluations, the ideal edition will need all this para-
phernalia t o avoid becoming dated. GILBERT'S edition has already been
superseded by the far more thorough critical apparatus of FADINI. An edi-
tion based on the primacy of P, that spells out organological issues, grouping
options, and dealing with the thousands of tricky decisions within the texts
of the pieces, could quickly make FADINI obsolete. The ideal edition need
not have all the answers but should control all the questions so that users can
feel themselves in possession of the best available knowledge about this music.
The issue of modernization, so called, is a curious one. The system
of key signatures, codified and standardized for the nineteenth century,
has not applied t o twentieth-cen tury music for an embarrassingly long
time. Why is it "modernization" t o add more flats or sharps t o a key
signature than Scarlatti saw fit to include? Do contemporary editors really
believe that a player would not be able t o negotiate a piece in A major
with only two sharps in the signature? Why must we add unnecessary acci-
d e n t a l ~ ,mostly natural signs, t o a text that does not call for them? GIL-
BERT and FADINI stubbornly cling t o these outmoded key signatures,
to the long-term detriment of their edition^."^
Two Scarlatti sonatas, K. 356 and 357, employ an exceptional format, of
four integrated staves, illustrated in the first half of this essay (1985, No. 4 ;
Plates I1 and 111). I have not seen this pair in FADINI; if the volume has ap-
peared, it has not reached me. GILBERT follows the practice of reducing the
notation t o two staves, the choice of all editors. (GERSTENBERG in the
Notenbeilage t o his study, where K. 357 appears on pp. 16-22, and in Kirk-
patrick, in his Scarlatti, on pp. 190, 374, and 381, give the original notation.)
So far as I know, only the facsimile in JOHNSON REPRINT reveals the full
text of K. 356 in its peculiar format which ought t o be retained in an ideal
edition. Three excellent harpsichordists tell me that playing from JOHNSON
REPRINT presented absolutely no problems save for a couple of difficult
page turns. As Plate I1 clearly shows, the piece is marked Per Cembalo
espresso. It had been thought that this marking is meant t o avoid confusion
= I 9 Emilia Fadini discussed these and related problems at SIENA 1985, in her paper, Problemi e
osservazioni sulla grafia scarlattiana, as well as in a Round Table after my paper, and in several in-
formal conversations; she made clear to me that most of the objectionable policies had been dictated
to her by G. Ricordi executives-but, as succeeding volumes reached the press, her own ideas about re-
producing the composer's intentions gradually began to bear fruit. On the matter of key signatures,
however, Ricordi refuses to compromise.
 Domenico Scarlatti 115

with the multistaff notation used in organ music; I think it is a possible

reference t o the fact that this is the first piece in the main sources t o require
the full five-octave range of the Queen's Spanish harpsichords and that it is
t o be followed by the volumes almost entirely devoted t o wide-range music
for the harpsichord (the pair does not appear in V at all, only in P/IX/29 and
30). Here, in the heralding pair of harpsichord sonatas, Scarlatti desires t o
acquaint the reader-performer with the special possibilities of this instrument,
particularly the ability t o use its wide range for register-transfer effects. The
four staves make a kind of quadrant of the instrumental sound space, in
which he can graphically illustrate the two-octave shift in K. 356 between
measures 1-5 and 5-9, and again from 9-13 t o 13 f. Plate I11 reveals the
similar shifts at the start of K. 357, where the extra staves allow the separate
ideas to appear cleanly, not unlike the partitura notation of keyboard fan-
tasie, ricercare, etc., that allowed the reader-player t o follow the voice-leading
unhampered by voice-crossing. The music shifts from one staff t o another, in
both K. 356 and 357, in surprisingly supple ways. Every combination of two-
staff notation, and most combinations of three-staff notation, appear; in one
place, all four staves come into play simultaneously. This notation, in the
last analysis, helps the player t o exploit the resources that the pieces highlight,
including register breaks of the instrument. I need not remind the reader that
the original makers of these old harpsichords, pianos, and organs did not
strive for the smooth shift of color that has been the first priority of piano
technicians for a century and a half; the old instruments revealed the seams
in their sound, and composers strove t o bring this out t o best effect.
The ideal edition need contain no added trills or small notes, even in square
brackets. Players can generally find places to add such things for themselves;
the sort of logic that assumes that parallel phrases ought t o be ornamented in
parallel fashion seems particularly inappropriate in Scarlatti (and may be over-
played in most other Baroque music as well). Scarlatti's potential for perversity
in such matters seems unfathomable, he is as likely t o avoid a trill at exactly the
point at which every listener expects one; his "jesting with art" often includes
such reverse ornamental effects. He loved to overthrow the "rule" of regularity
in composition and performance in favor of the pleasant surprise that informs
as it amuses or puzzles us. On this matter, as in so many others, the ideal
edition should respect the sources, n o matter how peculiar they seem.
Sometimes an issue hangs fire, and cannot be settled; the ideal edition's
accompanying commentary should explore the information involved and
give the player the choice of every possible way of interpreting evidence.
An excellent example: very few of Scarlatti's compositions fall into the
Baroque tradition of what might be termed a "dotted style."120 Only
' l o More good sense and reasonable evaluation of this subject has been gathered in one place
than we have a right t o expect: David Fuller, "The 'Dotted Style' in Bach, Handel, and Scarlatti,"
116 The Musical Quarterly

three pieces display copious dotting, kept moving throughout: K. 8, 92,

and 238. In this last sonata, a special notational anomaly appears, as
Example 6 begins to show:

Ex. 6 . K.238, mm.1-3

Andante

A reasonable possibility exists that the opening eighth C in measure 1,

and in the imitative answer in measure 2, ought t o be played as sixteenths.
If this is the case, it also applies t o similar eighths occurring only after rests,
in measures 5, 7, 11, 14, 16, 21, 23, 24, 31, 32, 33, 34, 37, 38, 39, 40,
and 42. This matter has no relationship t o so-called "inequality" or t o
"over-dotting"; there may be a notational self-understood convention
here that rests are not dotted, nor are fussy sixteenth rests inserted. Speaking
against this interpretation is the scribe's use of sixteenths in similar places,
at the entrance of a voice, in measures 8, 13, 15, 21, 30, but in these cases,
no sign for a rest precedes the note. The placement of certain eighths in
conjunction with the sixteenths in other simultaneous voices, especially
in measure 24, points t o the sixteenth interpretation as the more plausible.
From what we now know of Scarlatti, either method may apply; the reader-
performer ought to be given the scribe's anomalous rhythm in the main
body of the text, and an explanation of his options in the appendix. FADINI
scupulously provides the former, but not the latter.
Finally, the ideal edition ought t o be clean and roomy. Even FADINI, in
her desire t o cram all of a long musical piece into the proper page-turn se-
quence, as in the mot0 perpetuo "vamp" sonata, K. 260 (Vol. IV, pp. 222-

Bach, Handel, Scarlatti: Tercentenary Essays. ed. P. Williams, pp. 99-117. The issue I bring up here
is discussed on pp. 103-4, especially the telling musical Ex. 3. Fuller thinks the dotting ought t o
apply to the eighth notes; I suppose he is right, though I retain about a thirty percent doubt, because
of the high perversity quotient in Scarlatti. He goes o n t o discuss the triplets of the cadence of each
half, certainly an issue for the commentary in the ideal edition. I do not maintain that sixteenth rests
never appear in the eighteenth century, just not in Domenico's copyists; see Fuller's p. 105, Ex. 4 ,
for such notation in Gigault, and later examples show it in Lully and Georg Bohm, but I have not
noticed any such usage anywhere in the Scarlatti sources.
 Domenico Scarlatti 117

2 5 ) , obtains a result somewhat vexing to the reader's concentration. Few

modern editors have the luxury of playing with the luxuriant space that
the Gulbenkian Foundation has given the editors of its Portuguese series;
thus Seixas fares better than his old compatriot. Of course, if the scribal
format had been respected by the contemporary editor, space might have
been saved by the great efficiency of the old notation, and that might
have greatly alleviated the problems of allocation of room.
One of the bright hallmarks of recent musical scholarship has been
its ever-increasing willingness t o interact with performers, t o take credit
for breakthroughs in that field, and accept blame for the lack of communi-
cation that allows pedestrian renderings t o continue. In Scarlatti's case,
there hardly seems enough blame t o go around. Live and recorded per-
formances are too fast, too mechanical, flabby on the piano, over-registered
on the harpsichord, and all marked by usage of an inappropriate legato
that makes the form turn into silly putty. Compared t o the music of Bach
and Handel, Scarlatti comes across as "class clown," narrow in his range of
emotions and designs, useful mainly as encore pieces. We who know better
have allowed the situation t o grow worse; we should publish articles and re-
views, craft an ideal edition, serve as consultants t o performers, and attempt
t o rectify this misconception. Our frustrations arise from the awareness that
we have accomplished much less than Bach and Handel scholars. The fas-
cinating elements in Scarlatti's music that captured the fancy of the eigh-
teenth-century English and that deeply influenced Clementi, Czerny,
Brahms, Bartok, and countless others in an uninterrupted line from 1738 t o
our time should prompt us t o follow our line of questioning as far as evi-
dence can take us. The lesser figures of the instrumental rococo will never be
illuminated as they deserve if we cannot even illuminate the work of Scar-
latti. The popularity of this music brought serious study t o it earlier than t o
much other music of its period; we embarked quite a while ago and yet we
still cannot see the opposite shore. So many tasks remain that the state of
our art would fail aesthetic inspection or information audit. 121
''I Among the accomplishments in related fields in SIENA 1985 that I have not had the occasion
t o mention at an earlier point in this essay, one must note: Loek Hautus' yeoman efforts t o deal
with Insistenza e doppio fondo nelle sonate di Domenico Scarlatti, Michael Talbot's illumination
of what we already knew t o be the remarkable practice of modal interaction in Scarlatti, in his Sposta-
menti fra maggiore e minore nelle sonate di Domenico Scarlatti, and Gianfranco Vinay's discussion
of the usage of Domenico as a source by Vincenzo Tommasini, Alfredo Casella, and Goffredo Petrassi,
in his analytically thorough Domenico Scarlatti e il neoclassicismo italiano. Unfortunately, two
important papers announced, for sundry reasons, were not ultimately presented. I can hardly wait
to see them in print, since their titles clearly reveal their import: Friedrich Lippmann, Gaetano Greco:
un maestro d i Domenico Scarlatti, and Georg Doderer, Osservazioni sul temperamento degli strumenti
a tastiera nel Portogallo del XVIII secolo. Together with still another convention on Scarlatti in Rome,
about which I d o not feel competent to comment, it seems that more has been uncovered about
Domenico in this tercentenary year than in the last half century.
118 The Musical Quarterly

A decade ago, Donald W. McCorkle used his survey of obstacles in

Brahms research to call for the action that has led t o the reawakening
of interest in Brahms problems. The publications and conventions of 1985
indicate that no such manifesto need be made for Domenico Scarlatti.
I can testify that indefatigable workers already have reported new infor-
mation, fresh usage of bibliographic and other tools, novel insights, and
the application of known data to performance and editing. Perhaps the
era of frustration is finally ending.