Chopin

The World is ready to celebrate the Bi-Centennial of the birth of Frederic Chopin in 2010. My fingers have been digging into his music with renewed vigor the past months. Never have I felt myself to be a "born" Chopin interpreteur,but I have neverthless played a fair share of his music, and as a professor have taught all the major works for years. What is fascinating to me at this point is how differently I hear his music than in years before. I find a renewed interest in how he actually achieves his extraordinary sounds and his fascinating technique, very new at its time and still enormously vital today. One of the pieces I have been close to since my teens is the Barcarolle, Opus 60. This is a very late work, and best described as the apothesis of the Nocturnes, where adventuresome harmonies meet a new aesthetic of pianistic art. The Barcarolle is almost like an improvisation, caught upon the cogs of the relentless rocking rhythm of the Venetian boat song. The rhythm is almost like a drone, so regular and repetitive. But overhanging this is a supple, almost unending melody, that intrigues with its varied colors and sensuous, undulating line. One feels as in a boat, yet floating in a hazy atmosphere of almost impressionistic haze. It is a boat journey like no other, caught up in some magical time machine that enters us into a new world.

Chopin makes incredible choices in his voicing of chords, in his fleeting spirals of fiorituri, and in the melodic line itself. When we speak Bel Canto, we refer to the operatic line of the great composers such as Donizetti, Bellini, and Rossini, masters at spinning out the vocal line in pure melodic delight, with ample room for flights of fancy. Chopin keeps the melody supreme, especially here in the Barcarolle, yet it is often a duet in thirds, with the alto adding just the right amount of drama. When I say he makes excellent choices, I refer to the underlying voice leadings of the most refined order, yet assuming a new guise in its freely minted romantic idiom. When you try to guess what he might have written, one's choice is often banal. When you examine the notes he actually chose, you marvel..." how did he think of that!" He has exquisite taste always.

The Mazurkas fascinate me endlessly. Here is the pure spirit of Poland, with its regional dances and quirky instruments mmostly unknown to us. All the gesture and pose of the native dances are here to explore. The rhythms change quickly, and vary tremendously where the stress falls. The shifting from major to minor creates light and shadow, often mysterious. Yet, melody is always supreme.

What makes the Preludes so difficult to perform is their brevity. One has to capture the mood immediately, with no space to breathe in between. I love the stark simplicity and almost abstract quality of many of them, and best of all, the sudden appearance of unforgettable melodies, so masterfully placed. Is there a more beautiful moment than the second page of the Prelude in F Sharp Major?