Reflections of an American Harpsichordist Unpublished Memoirs, Essays, and Lectures of Ralph Kirkpatrick

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92 ❧ chapter five
an exclamation—“Don’t you just love the harpsichord?”—before I can stop
myself, I will have replied—“No, I hate it!” The dear old lady’s question is all
too frequently coupled with a further query, “Is the harpsichord more diffi cult
than the piano?” Therefore, I attempt to explain to patently uncomprehend-
ing ears that all instruments are equally diffi cult if a serious artistic involve-
ment is at stake. Prostitute though I may have been, I still consider myself a
committed artist. Detachment, of which so-called old music is reputed to be
the perfect vehicle, has no appeal whatever for me, no matter how much I
admire that which is mature, digested, organized, and serene. The only kind
of detachment which I can admire is that which has been achieved after long
years of struggle and superlative commitment. Then one can afford to look
upon one’s own instrument and on one’s own profession with both contempt
and respect.
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