Forensic Fingering, Part Two

There is a lot to learn by examining older scores, études, and method books. Many nineteenth-century composers, for example, intended for their method books and études to serve as guides for how to play their more difficult music.

In Part Two of this series, we’ll look at one of the most performed and famous guitar solos from the early nineteenth century, Variations on a Theme of Mozart, Op. 9 by Fernando Sor. If you’ve not read the introduction to this series, you can find it here.

Fernando Sor’s Op. 9

Fernando Sor’s Variations on a Theme of Mozart, Op. 9 may be his most performed work, and there are many modern editions of it. Andrés Segovia’s edition was published in 1931, and he recorded the work in 1927 (HMV) and 1952 (Decca). Segovia’s edition and his two recordings have been extraordinarily influential and were probably the first exposure to the piece for guitarists born in the twentieth century or for those trained under a teacher hewing to a doctrine of “maestro inerrancy” when it came to Segovia’s recordings and publications.

Editions by other guitarists—excluding facsimiles and Urtext editions—contain varying degrees of Segovia’s influence, but much of what’s in these modern (i.e., twentieth and twenty-first century) editions is at odds with the way Sor played the guitar. Are we to assume that what modern players do today works better for Sor’s music than what Sor advised? It’s true that the guitar for which Sor composed music was smaller than modern instruments, but the problems one is likely to encounter when playing nineteenth-century guitar music on a modern instrument are some difficult reaches for the left hand and the occasional use of the left-hand thumb to stop a bass note. There are no difficult reaches in Sor’s Op. 9, and the use of the left-hand thumb to stop bass notes was not a practice of Sor’s.^[1]

Sor approached right-hand technique and notation differently from today’s guitarists. When approaching this work, the question for modern guitarists is to see whether these differences can enhance one’s understanding of the piece and facilitate its performance. This is not a question of obeisance to “historically informed” performance practices; it is an inquiry to see if Sor’s practices can lead to more brilliant performances.

Today, performances of Sor’s Variations on a Theme of Mozart are frequently relegated to student recitals, but perhaps looking at this piece from an early nineteenth-century perspective, as opposed to an early twentieth-century perspective, can revivify the piece and restore its freshness and virtuosity.

Let’s look at a few passages from this iconic work to see if there’s a practical benefit to understanding Sor’s notation, fingering, technical practices and if these can enhance performance.^[2]

Variation One

This variation is a tour de force that sparkles with virtuosity. Note the fingering for the groups of four thirty-second notes that occur off the beat and lead to either a major or a minor third. When thirds are on strings one and two—as are all the thirds in this variation—Sor writes in his Method for the Spanish Guitar that he prefers to play major thirds with the first and second fingers and minor thirds with the first and third fingers.^[3]

Sor also writes in his method, “I have endeavoured to avoid, as much as possible, the transition from one string to another with the same finger…”^[4] This provides insight into a possible fingering that’s different from the fingering used by Segovia and others. First, here’s Segovia’s fingering for the pick-up and downbeat of measure 1:

Example 1: Segovia, Var. 1, m. 1 (Schott)

The second finger must jump from one string to another in the time of a thirty-second note. At high speeds, a better fingering for approaching a major third would be to use 2-1-4-1, as shown in example 2:

Example 2: Sor, Var. 1, m. 1 (OrpheusOnFire)

The quick notes that lead to a minor third can be fingered 2-1-4-2, as in example 3:

Example 3: Sor, Var. 1, m. 9 (OrpheusOnFire)

(Segovia often had fingers jump from string to string in passages of thirds. See his fingering for Sor’s étude, Op. 6, No. 6.^[5])

Several times in this variation, Sor indicates that the higher note of the third is to be played on the lower of the two strings. Here’s the pick-up to and the first beat and a half of measure five in the first variation of Sor’s Op. 9:

Example 4: Sor, Var. 1, m. 5 (facsimile)

Sor’s object was to stay in position. He favored idiomatic fingering and ease of execution over adherence to any musical pattern he may have established earlier. (This can also be seen in measure 44 of Sor’s exercise in b minor, Op. 35, No. 22.^[6]) Beaming the sixteenth notes G-sharp and B together indicates that they’re on the same string, although our ears should still hear the thirty-second notes landing on g-sharp, albeit briefly. (It helps to bring out the g-sharp with the index finger and play the open E and B strings a bit softer.)

Sor’s notation reveals the fingering because there’s no other way to play the G-sharp and the open E string at the same time, followed by the open B string while the first string is still ringing, as indicated by its value as an eighth note.

Here’s the same spot as fingered in the OrpheusOnFire edition, which makes Sor’s intention explicit:

Example 5: Sor, Var. 1, m. 5 (OrpheusOnFire)

Segovia keeps Sor’s notation, but slurs E to B on the second string. His fingering and articulation turns the E into a sixteenth note and the G-sharp into an eighth note. Below is Segovia’s fingering for measure 5 in the first variation. Note that he requires—in the words of Sor—the second finger to make “the transition from one string to another with the same finger”:

Example 6, Segovia, Var. 1, m. 5 (Schott)

In measure three of variation one, the melody and the dominant seventh chord are notated with a sixteenth-note value because the next note is the open B string, which means the d-sharp can’t be sustained. Plus, the first finger has to be free to perform the slur to C-sharp from the open string:

Example 7: Sor, Var. 1, m. 3 (facsimile)

Occasionally, there are other reasons for Sor’s attention to detail for note durations. Sor will often indicate the practical or actual duration of a note. Here’s a passage from the facsimile that shows the thirty-second note figure landing on a sixteenth note. One can argue that Sor’s intention is for the player to shift from the fourth position to the second position and back to the fourth position (not shown) as the right hand plays the open second string, which suggests a fast tempo:

Example 8: Sor, Var 1, mm. 8–9 (facsimile)

Example 9 shows another passage from the same variation that some modern guitarists are intent upon “improving,” but Sor’s fingering is unambiguous. He moves from the fourth position after the first thirty-second note of measure 13 and begins the ascending scale on the open second string:

Example 9: Sor, Var. 1, m. 13 (facsimile)

Sor’s notation of the G-sharp as a thirty-second note tells us that he plays the B open and begins the scale in the second position. His notation respects the actual duration of notes because the shift to the lower position makes holding the G-sharp impossible.

Sor wrote in his method that he prefers to slur scale passages and doesn’t alternate i-m in scale passages (as did Aguado), except for runs on the top two strings.^[7] The staccato dots in example 9 simply mean “do not slur,” and was standard notational practice to indicate that the notes following a slur should be articulated with the right-hand fingers.

Segovia doesn’t mangle the passage as much as others, but he did put the slur in the wrong place:

Example 10: Segovia, Var. 1, m. 13 (Schott)

Here’s the same scale fingered in an edition by Mario Rodriguez Arenas (1879–1945). Arenas uses three shifts within the span of nine notes. It’s difficult to see what he was trying to accomplish, but imagine if you’re a hapless guitar student who doesn’t feel free to disagree with your teacher. Arenas creates difficulties for the player because he seems to be adhering to proscriptive advice that disallows right-hand finger repetition—even after a chord—a proscription that was not present in the nineteenth century.

Example 11: Arenas: Var. 1, m. 13 (Ricordi, Buenos Aires)

There are similar problems in every variation, but I hope that the following examples, although not exhaustive, will be sufficient.

Variation Two

Measures six and seven of variation two provide another example of how Sor’s notation—specifically the use of rests—indicates fingering and a change of position. A shift to the third position after the sixteenth-note G in measure seven indicates a shift from the eighth to the third position:

Example 12: Sor, Var. 2, mm. 6–8 (facsimile)

Variation Four

In variation four, Sor’s notation indicates fingerings—as in the passages in variation one—that are idiomatic and show a preference for fluency over musical consistency. Most phrases in this variation are built around the interplay between a triplet figure and an ascending four- or five-note arpeggio figure. Example 13 shows the start of the variation. Note that the triplet figure goes from a high note to a low note and back to the high note:

Example 13: Sor, Var. 4, m. 1 (facsimile)

A few measures later, Sor reverses the direction of the notes in the triplet figure:

Example 14: Var. 4, pickup to m. 5 (facsimile)

Sor is staying in seventh position and playing the G-sharp on the second string and the E is open, much like what he did in variation 1 (see example 1). The right-hand fingering for the triplet doesn’t need to change. Sor would have played these figures m-p-i and the following third with the thumb and middle finger.

Example 15: Var. 4, m. 1 (OrpheusOnFire)

Example 16: Var. 4, pickup to m. 5 (OrpheusOnFire)

The lack of consistency between similar figures was not considered a problem in nineteenth-century music. If you’re not convinced, take a look at Sor’s Op. 33, No. 1, the first of a series of six “pièces de société”: three are in his Op. 33, Trois pièces de société, and three are in his Op. 36, Trois pièces de société.

Variation Five

Let’s move to variation five, which is marked Più mosso. Here’s a measure from Segovia’s version:

Example 17: Segovia, Var. 5, m. 5 (Schott)

Segovia’s notation isn’t clear, but on the first beat he slurs from B to E after striking the G-sharp and continues the pattern. Also note the a-i-m fingering for the right hand on the last beat, which is not at all Sor-like.

Sor’s fingering is easy. He doesn’t slur; he uses the thumb on the second string; he plays the triplets with m-p-i. Notice that the notes on the second string are eighth notes and not sixteenth notes, as they are in Segovia’s edition:

Example 18: Sor, Var 5, m. 5 (facsimile)

Sor’s meaning is clear: the down-stemmed notes are to be held.

Example 19: Sor, Var. 5, m. 5 (OrpheusOnFire)

Sor’s eighth-note triplets and sixteenth-note triplets are the same. He uses the former when the middle note of the triplet is a separate voice, as in example 18.

The opening of variation five, specifically the pick-up to measure one and the downbeat, is identical to the first notes of the theme (not shown). In measure four of variation five, Sor’s pick-up to measure five is a retrograde version of these notes:

Example 20: Sor, Var. 5, m. 4, 5 (facsimile)

The last beat of the first measure of example 20 that is also of interest for other reasons. Sor’s notation for this beat is not included in any modern edition of the piece I’ve seen, unless that edition is a facsimile or Urtext edition. In the nineteenth century, notes following a dot were often aligned with the last note of a triplet,^[8] which Sor has made explicit. Plus, this speaks to Sor’s fluid left-hand technique wherein shifts are executed as one fluid movement. (The key here is to let go of the finger holding the note on the second string when moving to seventh position. Using it as an added guide finger will only hinder one at high speeds.)

Let’s look at a few of the misunderstandings that have accrued to this figure, while noting that many only play the upper voice of this figure. Here’s Rodrigo Arenas:

Example 21: Arenas: Var. 5, m. 4 (Ricordi, Buenos Aires)

The Arenas fingering is bizarre, and he either had an impoverished musical idea or his understanding of notation was flawed.

Here’s Segovia:

Example 22: Segovia, Var. 5, m. 4 (recreation of the Schott edition)

I don’t know whether Arenas’ and Segovia’s lives ever intersected. Arenas was a generation older than Segovia and lived in Argentina. Segovia did play a concert at the Teatro Colon in Buenos Aires in 1923, but Sor’s Op. 9 wasn’t on the program. Segovia also lived and toured in South America in the 1930s and early 1940s.

Arenas may have influenced Segovia, but Segovia influencing Arenas makes more sense if there was an influence either way. Arenas developed a cramp in his right hand and stopped performing in 1917, so it’s unlikely Segovia heard him play. In addition, the seven volumes of Arenas’s Escuela de la Guitarra, one of which contains his edition of Sor’s Op. 9, were published in 1955, twenty-four years after Segovia’s edition and ten years after Arenas’ death.

Both fingerings make this passage more difficult, but Arenas’ fingering more so.

The French publisher Meissionnier published an edition of Sor’s Op. 9 that is shorter (the first variation and coda were omitted, among other changes), and is generally regarded as inferior. However, this inferior version does clarify a misunderstood passage in variation five.

The following passage occurs at the end of the A and B sections of variation five. In two of the editions published during Sor’s lifetime, the last measure of the B section occurs at a line break, and the slurring in the last measure of the A section differs from the slurring in the last measure of the B section.^[9] Example 23 shows the passage as it appears in the inferior Meissionnier edition. Both of the open-string Es in measure eight are slurred:

Example 23: Sor, Var. 5, m. 7, 8 (facsimile of inferior Meissionnier edition)

Also note the arrangement of the notes on the second beat, which allows one to stay in position, similar to example 16.

Segovia doesn’t slur any notes on the first string, except for the G-sharp to E:

Example 24: Segovia, Var. 5, m. 7, 8 (Schott)

The absence of slurs in these measures in most editions is a mistake, and both slurs should be played. The result is an idiomatic and brilliant fingering for the right hand, and is in accordance with Sor’s statement that he doesn’t use the annular finger except in chords of four voices.^[10] Example 25 shows the same passage in the OrpheusOnFire edition:

Example 25: Sor, Var. 5, m. 7,8 (OrpheusOnFire)

Coda

In the Coda, Sor has two triplet scale passages that are often misunderstood. In the nineteenth century, triplets were commonly indicated by beaming alone and sometimes with a “3”. (See examples 13, 14, 18, 23.) Composers and engravers didn’t use curved lines to indicate triplets. There is no place in Sor’s Op. 9 in which triplets are notated by a number and a slur. Example 26 shows one of these passages from Brian Jeffrey’s Urtext edition:

Example 26: Sor, Coda, m. 34 (Tecla Urtext)

If the fourth finger can provide an accent as it slurs, this passage can stay in first position and be played rapidly while maintaining metric integrity. The technique is a kind of “articulated legato,” by which is meant that even though figures are slurred by the left-hand fingers, the relative force of a finger falling on the string (or pulling) can provide a subtle metric accent. I don’t know of any nineteenth-century source that mentions this refinement, but slurs not aligned with the beat are common in the nineteenth century.^[11]

The alignment of the slurs is a bit odd in the facsimiles, but you can see that the slur starts on the second note of the triplet:

Example 27: Coda, m. 36 (facsimile)

The result is an ending that’s more satisfying. The way it’s usually played creates the expectation that the ending is to be more bombastic, yet it disappoints. Here’s Segovia:

Example 28: Segovia, Coda, m. 34 (facsimile)

Example 29: Segovia, Coda, m. 36 (facsimile)

There’s simply too much going on here. Segovia is trying to put the climax of the Coda in the wrong place. It’s actually here, a few measures earlier:

Example 30: Coda, m. 32, 33 (facsimile)

The fingering for the scales of the OrpheusOnFire edition is idiomatic and makes use of an “articulated legato” to provide a metric accent:

Example 31, Sor, Coda, m. 34 (OrpheusOnFire)

Sor carefully prepares for the climax through two occurrences of a rapid E-major arpeggio leading to a melody starting on d-sharp:

Example 32: Sor, Coda, m. 26, 27 (OrpheusOnFire)

On the third repetition, however, Sor lands on d-natural, which is unexpected and dramatic:

Example 33: Coda, mm. 31,32 (OrpheusOnFire)

The d-natural is arresting enough, but in the next measure, Sor presents us with a German sixth chord which leads to the tonic and dominant of E major.

Conclusion

Beyond the immediate application of these ideas to Sor’s Op. 9, this discussion brings up questions of how one is to look at music of the past. Discussions about performance practice are rather tired these days but have entered the mainstream. Performance practice discussions are frequently centered around sound, the type of instrument, the interpretation of ornament symbols and their application, and an understanding of earlier notation conventions. Sor’s writing is quite different from his contemporaries because he found a way to convey many of his fingering practices through notation alone.

The ideas discussed today have been incorporated into the OrpheusOnFire edition of the piece. This is a performance edition, made by a performer, and is designed to aid in one’s technical fluency and artistic brilliance. Click the “Buy on Gumroad” button below to learn more and to get a copy of the OrpheusOnFire edition of Sor's Op. 9 through Gumroad's secure pop-up window.

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