And while I think of it, speaking as a cellist, anything by Tchaikovsky
All those wretched swirling chromatic runs, up and down, up and down, round and round, as when one has had one Barley Wine too many, and the room is going round, heralding the inevitable.
I hate him. Almost as much as I hate crass generalisations
That Litolff Scherzo thing that Clifford Curzon used to play - yuk !
Kindly lay off Tchaikovsky and Ravel, folks. Thanks awfully.
"The isle is full of noises... Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not"
The Tempest, Act III scene 2 ll 148-9