My name is Mel Hallam, of Hallam, LLC, publishers of this website fretsandfingers.com and the four- volume series of DVDs and books on guitar technique entitled How to Develop Tremendous Technique For The Guitar. I am 53 years old. In my teens I was enthralled with the classical guitar and just about wore out the two precious Segovia albums I had. I'd replay certain passages by dropping the needle on the record over and over again trying to figure out how he was playing a certain passage, or creating a certain tone or nuance. He played with such passion and expression. From tragic sorrow to greatest joy, it was all there. Even over the cracks and hisses on those overplayed disks I could hear him baring his soul in the music.

It was the same thing with Parkening, Giglia (remember him?), Yepes, Williams, Bream and others. Was there ever a more passionate player than Julian Bream? When I heard Bream and Segovia in their prime I felt the music. I was transported by their technique, by fingers touching strings that were guided by a deep understanding of the music, and the period and style of the works they performed. They understood the composer. Their playing was about the music, not about them.

I had to play. There was no other word for it.

In recent years I have often wondered what has happened to contemporary classical guitarists. Why do so many of the guitarists I hear sound so sterile, thin and even monotone? Yes, I've seen remarkably clean and fast performances of horrendously difficult works but all too often I'm lost within 10 minutes once I'm over being dazzled. The one-dimensional playing completely fails to pull me in, to transport me.

I've given this question much thought. Over those same recent years there have been some changes in our little world of playing wooden boxes with strings stretched tight across them. For one, the wooden boxes have undergone significant changes. Lattice braced instruments have dramatically increased the dynamic range of the guitar, and now guitar makers like David Schramm and Greg Byers are achieving traditional tone along with the newly found power.

Another change has been the rise of warring factions in the area of playing technique. Books have been widely adopted, authored by people who themselves have marginal playing ability. Some of these methods actually eliminate standard areas of technique as though this would increase the interpretive palate of the guitar. At a party given by a good friend, I actually heard one of the most recognizable of these authors expound that at - I won't mention the name of the university; "We don't allow the use of the rest stroke."

I looked at him in disbelief and said, "Don't allow!!!" "Why?" "It's not necessary," he said. At this I just became unable to hide my indignation. After having studied under the Romeros and being a fan of Pepe Romero's amazing technique for decades I couldn't keep my mouth shut. "That's ridiculous" I said, "look," and promptly blasted thought one of the arpeggio sections from the Grand Overture by Giuliani. Something I can do very well with great control over tone, volume and speed imparted by the use of rest strokes in the thumb and by planting.

Almost comically he looked away, nervously shaking his head saying, "Nope, no, we don't do that." He was in a twitch. 'Hear no evil, see no evil,' I thought. I had half a mind to show him the use of rest stroke pull-offs by playing him that famous descending slurred scale in triplets from the Concerto de Aranjuez, but I thought that if I did, we might be sending for the ambulance as they probably don't allow those either. (Rest stroke pull-offs are a fabulous solution to the problem of weak, awkward pull offs that plague so many players. The tone is more similar to a note plucked with the right hand. Volume II of the Technique Series teaches this and other left-hand techniques.)

I have seen and heard other, similar stories. One man who had purchased my technique series some time ago emailed me and told me of an instance where he had started lessons with an instructor who just about went ballistic when she saw him using thumb rest strokes in arpeggios. "I never heard of that," she said. His comment to me was that after hearing her play, she could do with watching my series. Here was another 'expert' who could talk a good story but couldn't play with any real ability yet was in the dangerous position of 'teacher.' I have heard similar admonitions about such fundamental techniques as rest strokes in scale playing, and planting techniques in arpeggios (which I vividly show in my series to be among the best technical tools a guitarist has).

So according to much of the neveau technique philosophy, everything should by played with free strokes. That explains part of the monotone playing. I guess to these authors, Segovia, Bream, Parkening, Tenant, Romero and just about every flamenco guitarist has or had it wrong. To me, ignoring or even writing off whole areas of technique as "unnecessary" it like an artist saying, "I will only ever use this brush. Forget all the others, they aren't necessary, and as for that trowel...  forget it!" When players and teachers do this, they are immediately limiting the scope of expression. A diverse - as opposed to limited - technique is capable of producing the broadest musical expression.

Players should make use of every possible way of doing things. When a guitarist tries a passage with several different fingerings, or using rest strokes or free strokes or some combination, or planted arpeggios versus completely sympathetic movement, musical differences occur in tone and phrasing. Often subtle differences yes, but differences that yield interpretational choices in the expression of the music. We should also look at and listen to guitar players from other genres, especially if we want to further the range of expressive tools in the technique arsenal.

So what do I think has happened to guitar playing in these recent years? I believe too many teachers - many of whom are wholly unqualified to teach - have been teaching a narrow technique passed on to them by teachers of equally limited playing ability and technical scope. As the old expression goes, "they don't know that they don't know." The teacher mentioned above said it right: "I never heard of that."

I was recently almost overjoyed to read that I was not alone in these thoughts. In a recent issue of Acoustic Guitar Magazine (January, 2008), Guitarist Eliot Fisk was asked about the future of the classical guitar by Mark Small for his article, The Noble Art. Fisk's response was, "I think the rejection of the romantic style of playing has to some extent cost the guitar its audience. Today, there is a tendency to prefer a style where every note is played the same - no rest stroke, no slurs, no vibrato. So we have turned the magic box of Segovia and Barrios into a sort of monotone keyboard instrument. I prefer a colorful and contrapuntal-sounding guitar. I think the younger generation of players is starting to rebel and come back to a more romantic, expressive, and exciting way of playing."

Keep on rebelling!

Today's violin makers constantly look to the past, to the Cremona violin makers. They hold up a Stradivarius and say, "Why can't I make a violin like this, what did he know that we have forgotten over the years?" I imagine one possible future where guitarists, listening to old-technology records or CDs of Julian Bream or of Pepe Romero are wondering, "how did they do that, they played with such expression and passion, such gorgeous variations in tone, and astounding technical ability, why can't I play like that? What have we forgotten over the years?"

Years ago when I first began to shoot and write The Technique Series, I was responding to what I had been seeing in some of the recent books on classical guitar technique. The Technique Series teaches a way of approaching technique that will not limit your expression, but make it virtually boundless. Add to this, knowledge of historical period interpretation, and you will be well on the way to becoming Fisk's 'romantic' player. As for the passion; in part this comes from personality and soul, and in part it comes with maturity, but it is the thing that separates the artist from the mere technician. Be an artist.