Sprezzatura is that charm lent to a song by a few "faulty" eighths or sixteenths on various tones, together with those ["faults"] made in the tempo. These relieve the song of a certain restricted narrowness and dryness and make it pleasant, free, and airy, just as in common speech eloquence and variety make pleasant and sweet the matters being spoken of.
Guilio Caccini, Le Nuove musiche, 1601
This Florentine composer has much to say about how his songs should be spiced up with a bit of imagination, but this passage in particular reminds us that generally we need to shape phrases with the same audibility as one intonates speech. And if we don't it will sound unpleasant and dry. Clear guidance from near the time of birth of art music itself.
Eric Crees judged the ITA Remington Trombone Choir competition last year and commented in the ITA magazine that most of the groups were boring, comparing their 'note-getting exercises' to parrots reciting Shakespeare. He said that those few musicians that added the music were like shining beacons.
I'm asking myself how do large quantities of musicians end up playing boringly? Is my playing boring? I think am going to work harder on expression and try and break some of the 'rules' for my upcoming performances to see what I can learn.
I have a colleague who thinks it should be a criminal offence to play boringly. It's because classical music is retreating - the number of professional musicians is a fraction the number compared to 100 years ago and this trend continues. So why should we let classical music go the way of pop, where the music takes second place to sexy photographs, slushy magazine interviews, all designed by brand managers to appeal to a certain demographic of CD buyers? If you don't focus on the music then it will die and you are left with a hollow industry no better than perfume or pop music. The marketing makes many feel good but has little artistic merit, doesn't touch us at all deeply, and will be forgotten very quickly.