I've heard Segovia several times when his concert itinerary took him through Seattle, and met him and had a chance to talk with him briefly on two occasions.

One was when the Seattle Classic Guitar Society asked him to do a brief question and answer session for the Society the day after his concert and he agreed. He fielded questions for about an hour (most interesting!). Then, as the session was breaking up, someone slipped me a piece of paper with an address on it and muttered mysteriously that there was going to be a little gathering, and I might like to drop in. I did, and as the host ushered me into the living room, there, in the big easy chair in the corner, sat The Maestro, pipe in one hand, brandy snifter in the other. About a dozen of us sat around in Bill James's living room and chatted with Segovia.

One fellow was questioning Segovia about his particular interpretation of a Bach piece. Segovia explained his ideas about the piece, but the guy saw it a bit differently, and he wouldn't let it go. Finally, Segovia asked, "May I ask how old you are?"

A bit surprised, the fellow responded, "I'm thirty-six."

Segovia, taking his glasses off and cleaning them with his handkerchief said, "Promise me one thing:   don't try to play Bach until you're at least fifty-five."

That ended that conversation!

I mentioned to him that, although I struggled as best I could to play a number of pieces written for the guitar, my main interest was in accompanying British Isles and American folk songs and ballads. He nodded and smiled and allowed as how that was a very honorable role for the guitar.

A few years later, the day following one of his concerts there was a reception for him a Ward Irwin's house in Bellevue, across Lake Washington from Seattle. I wound up sitting in the front seat of Bill James's car, with Segovia and his new bride sitting in the back seat. Pleasant general conversation on the way to Ward's house. Charming and gracious man. His new wife, quite young and lovely, didn't say much. She didn't speak English.

One of the young women in the guitar society couldn't resist a snide comment out of the corner of her mouth about Segovia being "a dirty old man!"

Well, wotthehell, anyway!

Segovia was going to be in Seattle for another day, and he asked Ward if he could tell him where he might hire a car and driver so he could show his wife around the area. Ward offered to do the honors, and Segovia graciously accepted. So Ward and his wife got to spend the following day with Segovia and his new bride.

There is very upscale guitar store here in Seattle called "The Rosewood Guitar." You can drop a real wad of money in that place. Lot's of high-priced lumber in there, and I did buy a very nice quality instrument there a few decades ago. Steve Novacek, who was proprietor back then, showed me one particular guitar he had in stock. He said that this was the same model José Ramirez that Segovia favored. I tried it, and it had a gawdawful high action at the 12th fret. I commented to Steve about it, and he said that it definitely affects the volume of the guitar—but it takes some getting used to. You develop hands you can crush walnuts with!

Don Firth