i listened to some terrible playing downstairs. Really bad.
I had a friend in high school who's nickname in art class was kinderhulk, because his drawings reminded someone of a kindergartener and the hunk, combined. This pianist shared in the spirit of kinderhulk, if that gives you an idea. He played chopin without emotion, mechanically and sped-up to create some sort of warped pseudo-virtuoso showpiece out of nocturnes. Poor chopin.

Then some really banal something or another, sickeningly sweet stuff, reminiscent of contemporary non-denominational church music. Then back to the chopin nocturnes, beat black and blue. bizarre accelerandos in places they dont belong, mechanical playing. He hit all the right notes all wrong. Kind of amazing, actually.

Then he played some good ol ragtime. He could play that well.
And then i realized, he was playing chopin nocturnes like ragtime pieces. ahhh, it made sense now.

But all this terrible music and terrible playing is good for the soul, i think. It keeps you modest. You sit down and play, and think- how much difference is there between his playing and mine? how much do you think is actually perceptible to a non-music person? Eh, I stand by my claim... its good to know whats bad, its good to hear bad every now and again.