“I began studying accordion at the age of nine.  My teacher employed the Sedlon method, and focused primarily on standards and Polish folk music, mainly from the albums of Podgorski.  I discontinued lessons at the age of 16; after joining the Navy at 17, my accordion was sold.  I made no attempt to play again until 1995, at the age of 47.  At that time, I bought an old accordion with the thought of entertaining my mother, whose sacrifices paid for the lessons of my youth.  Much to my surprise, I played at nearly the same level as when I quit, which was not very good, but encouraging nevertheless, in view of my lengthy estrangement from the instrument.  It wasn't long before I rediscovered the magic of the accordion, and have since embraced it with a passion; however, due to the unavailability of formal instruction, (I live in a rural area) I have pursued improvement through self study, largely in isolation.

For this reason, after recording Galla-Rini's arrangement of Tchaikovsky's "Dance of The Swans," I decided to send it to him with the hope of receiving some instructive feedback.  That rendition appears on this album and a copy of his response is as follows:
 

January 24 2001 Dear Dan: I received your CD recording of the DANCE OF THE (LITTLE) SWANS yesterday and I listened to it immediately.  It pleases me to say that you recorded a Perfect rendition of the piece! A valid interpretation - technically accurate (not even one mistake) – tempi, good, etc.  What more can I say?  Why not consider recording a complete CD or tape of classical gems like the one you have sent to me?  I believe the general public would find it appealing.  I am convinced that you are equal to the task. My very best wishes to you and always glad to hear from you. Sincerely,

Thus, the impetus for this recording came from Anthony Galla-Rini, to whom I dedicate the album.

For anyone acquainted with the accordion, it is hard to escape the realization that it is particularly well suited as an orchestral instrument, (not merely as a solo instrument with orchestral properties), and that it has been under-recognized in that capacity.  There is a wealth of music in the archives which seems to have been passed over by accordionists because of its unsuitability for solo reduction, but which might, if transcribed for accordion ensemble or accordion orchestra, offer exciting opportunities to bring forth inspiring works with fresh perspectives, while exploiting more fully the orchestral capabilities of the instrument.

And there are many fine accordionists, certainly more accomplished than me, who, for various reasons, have not undertaken to produce solo recordings, but who would, if opportunities existed, render exquisite performances as members of accordion ensembles or orchestras.  Of course, such opportunities are nearly nonexistent these days.  Yet, in my view at least, there is an alternative... the home studio.

Consequently, I hope that, aside from whatever musical value my recording might contain, it might also serve as a stimulus to others, who might be predisposed, to consider setting up their own home studio and become their own ensemble.  In applying the technique of multi-track recording, they may, as I have done, circumvent the difficulties of trying to find others with similar taste, skill, and commitment to the music, and, in so doing, free themselves to explore a largely untapped treasure trove of chamber works and orchestral compositions, particularly in the realm of early music, which still await their first artful interpretation with accordion.

In anticipation of a possible (legitimate) objection to technologically dependent renditions, let me say that, admittedly, they are not possible without the help of advanced electronics; and the idea that one player has performed all the parts may seem surreal to some.  However, if one thinks about it, the activity of listening to recorded music is itself an illusory process.  Recordings require not only sophisticated machines in order to "reproduce" the music, but a certain psychological adaptation by the listener, which enables them to perceive the reproduction as a performance.

Yet a recording can never be more than a pseudo performance, unequal to the most moving and memorable musical experiences that occur when the audience is able to establish "a connection" with the performance and, in a sense, become part of it. Thus, regardless of whatever technical advancements are made in the recording arena, recordings will thankfully never fully replace performance.  But, by the same token, they should not be required to conform to all the limitations of performance, unless, of course, they are designated as ‘live recordings’.  In my view, the primary responsibility of the recordist is utmost loyalty to the music, not necessarily to the concept of the stage."