Although the current convention is that we shouldn't "mess" with a composer's "intentions", as everyone knows, in the 19th century and earlier embelishing and improvising were not only accepted but often necessary, and it was mainly the degradation of this art that lead to the current strictures in classical music against it (the domain of creative improvisation has passed to jazz). But I think we should reconsider this stricture. For instance, as exercises, pianists should be encouraged to write their own variations on Chopin's filigrees, embelishments and cadenzas. Of course, for the vast majority of cases, the results won't be any near as good as the originals, but the process of composing them will offer the artist a great deal of insight on how to actually 'feel' and perform them with the necessary freedom, rather than the stilted feel that so often comes from a too literal reading of the notation of cadenzas and embellishments. And who knows, perhaps in some rare cases the results may be as good, or superior to Chopin's. In that case, take it to the concert stage, and let the public decide. Of course I know what the pedants will say about such a proposal. But...pedants are also the ones that would righteously howl if, unbeknownst to them, an authentic but previously unknown Chopin mansucript containing differing cadenzas were performed.
I view the human body like an electric circuit board with musical ideas freely flowing from the brain to the fingers.Each specific instruction on a score is like putting in resistors which gradually rob the pianist of expression. Too many instructions is a bit like taking colours off a painter until eventually he has only black left.How much we take liberties is up to the individual, but perhaps for performing concert pianists it is also limited by what might be considered to be taste and for advanced students, it might be limited by frightening University professors with small rounded glasses and large beards.
This conversation has a subtext I've never understood.When we love a piece of music (which we would never in a million years have been capable of writing ourselves) and respect the composer who wrote it (as someone whose genius exceeds our own immeasurably), why would we want to disregard any or all of the details the composer specified for its performance?Whence comes that impulse?
Disregarding those details doesn't preclude the attitude of respect or the recognition that the composer was far more talented than we are....
Well, the impulse comes from intensely studying a composition with the eye to bringing out the best that it has to offer. For instance, I may find a passage that is rich with inner detail that had escaped me before, and I may wish to bring out some of that detail so that I can share my enjoyment with others. This, despite the lack of the composer's instructions, or even contrary instructions. On the other hand, despite my (and others) best efforts at interpretation, I may find a passage that I wish had been written differently. After all (ignoring for the moment the idol worship that insists we fawn over every note coming from their pens) the master's compositions are rarely perfect. And I find that it is often those seemingly "less-than-perfect" passages that take me hours and hours of thought and practice to make sense out of. Sometimes, after much work, I may actually find that what I'd thought was imperfect, was instead my understandng(!), and to my delight I now find the passage yielding its secrets. But often, my first instincts prove correct, and I have on my hands a fact: the composer's inspiration flagged and now I've got "fluff" to make sense out of! In the latter case, if I can improve the passage's intelligibility, I'll feel free to "violate" the composers instructions in order to preserve the integrity of my performance.