As a composer, I can be really really mean on instruments to acquire a certain sound I want. Well, it's not just me... this is practically applied to most composers I know. I hated Cage for pioneering the prepared piano a few years back. Why and how could he do such a thing to such an amazing instrument? Sticking screws and rubber bits in between the strings... my god. Sure the sounds are interesting but COME ON there's got to be an alternative way to produce these sounds. But the answer I realised a few years later was, no, there was no other way. Not a convenient way anyway. It was clever, it was inspired, and I forgave Cage.
I've currently just started figuring out the beginning of my new orchestral piece, the concept is all hashed out now too. But while writing, the conscious I have for caring for instruments is looming over me like a dark cloud while I plan to make my strings play col legno for at least 3 mins. They are going to hate me, more importantly, their bows will die. I could see the dents and scratches now... I'll be meeting my dear violinist friend very soon and will ask her what she thinks of the idea of hitting wood against metal 180 times. But no matter what she thinks, I'll always have to live this way, with the devil and the angel in me thrashing it out in my brain.
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