CHOPIN AND PIANOFORTE STYLE
Although Chopin (1809-1849) was less aggressively romantic than others
of the group we have been considering, in many respects his music
represents the romantic spirit in its fairest bloom. Not even yet has
full justice been done him--although his fame is growing--since he is
often considered as a composer of mere "salon-pieces" which, though
captivating, are too gossamer-like to merit serious attention. Chopin
was a life-long student of Bach; and much of his music, in its
closeness of texture, shows unmistakably the influence of that master.
Together with Schumann, he broke away from the strict formality of the
old classic forms and instituted the reign of freely conceived
tone-poems for the pianoforte: the form being conditioned by the
poetic feelings of the composer. As far as fundamental principles of
architecture are concerned, his pieces are generally simple, modeled
as they are on the two and three-part form and that of the rondo. When
he attempted works of large scope, where varied material had to be
held together, he was lamentably deficient, _e.g._, in his Sonatas. In
fact, even in such pieces as the Etudes and Scherzos, in the
presentation of the material we find occasional blemishes. But there
are so many other wonderful qualities that this weakness may be
overlooked. In spite of a certain deficiency in form, Chopin is
indisputably a great genius. Far too much stress has been laid on the
delicacy of his style to the exclusion of the intensity and bold
dramatic power that characterize much of his music to a marked
degree. Though of frail physique,[212] and though living in an
environment which tended to overdevelop his fastidious nature, Chopin
had a fiery soul, which would assert itself with unmistakable force.
His music by no means consists solely of melting moods or languorous
sighs; he had a keen instinct for the dissonant element (witness
passages in the G minor Ballade); he was a daring harmonic innovator;
and much of his music is surcharged with tragic significance. A born
stylist, he nevertheless did not avoid incessant labor to secure the
acme of finish. So perfect in his works is the balance between
substance and treatment, that they make a direct appeal to
music-lovers of every nation. In listening to Chopin we are never
conscious of turgidity, of diffuseness, of labored treatment of
material. All is direct, pellucid; poetic thoughts are presented in a
convincingly beautiful manner. He was a great colorist as well, and in
his work we must recognize the fact that color in music is as distinct
an achievement of the imagination as profound thought or beauty of
line. Chopin's position in regard to program music is an interesting
subject for speculation. Few of his works bear specifically
descriptive titles; and it is well known that he had little sympathy
with the extreme tendencies of Berlioz and Liszt. Yet there is, in
general, something more than an abstract presentation of musical
material, however beautiful. The varied moods aroused by the Ballades
and Nocturnes, the actual pictures we see in the Polonaises, must have
had their counterpart in definite subjective experiences in the life
of the composer, and so from a broad psychological standpoint--even in
the absence of explanatory titles--we may call Chopin a thoroughly
romantic tone-poet; indeed, as Balzac says, "a soul which rendered
itself audible."
[Footnote 212: He was born of a Polish mother and a French father, and
these mixed strains of blood account fundamentally for the leading
characteristics of his music. From the former strain came the
impassioned, romantic and at times chivalrous moods, prominent in all
Polish life and art; and from the latter the grace, charm and finish
which we rightly associate with the French nature. For side-lights on
Chopin's intimacy with George Sand see the well-known essays by Henry
James and Rene Doumic.]
As Chopin composed so idiomatically for his chosen instrument, the
pianoforte, to which he devoted himself exclusively,[213] no
understanding or adequate appreciation of the subtleties of his style
is possible without some knowledge of the nature and attributes of
this instrument which, in our time, has become the universal medium
for the rendering of music. All of Chopin's works were not only
published for the pianoforte but were conceived in _terms_ of the
pianoforte; his style in this respect being quite unique in the
history of musical art. For there are noble and poetically inspired
thoughts of many composers which may be satisfactorily presented
through a number of media: pianoforte, organ, string-quartet or
voices. This fact has been the cause of many so-called transcriptions
of orchestral or string-quartet music for the organ. A composer,
furthermore, often publishes a work for a certain instrument when the
inner evidence shows that, during the period of creation, he actually
had some other medium in mind. Beethoven's Sonatas abound[214] in
effects which, for their complete realization, require an orchestra;
so that, notwithstanding the beauty of the thought, his style is often
anything but pianistic. In certain of Cesar Franck's pianoforte works
we are conscious of his predilection for the organ, as the spirit of
the music demands a sustained volume of sound which the organ, with
its powerful lungs, alone can give. But if the full beauty of Chopin's
conception is to be gained, his music must be played on the pianoforte
and on nothing else. The pianoforte has, to be sure, several
limitations; it is not per se a loud instrument in comparison with a
trumpet or an organ, and the whole nature of its tone is
evanescent--that is, as soon as the tone is produced, it begins to
fade away, [decrescendo symbol]. This latter apparent limitation,
however, is in fact one of its most suggestive beauties; for nothing
is more stimulating to the imagination than the dying away of a
beautiful sound, as may be felt in the striking of a clear-toned bell,
or in the wonderful diminuendo of the horn. This effect, inherent in
pianoforte tone, should be more utilized rather than deplored,
especially since dwelling on a delightful harmony or a single dramatic
note is a definite characteristic of "tempo rubato"--that peculiar
feature of Chopin's rhythm. The pianoforte can neither steadily
sustain a tone [sustaining symbol] nor increase it [crescendo symbol];
achievements for which the strings and the wind instruments are so
valued. On the other hand, the instrument has the merits of great
sonority and marvellous coloristic possibilities; and when music is
composed for the pianoforte by one who understands its secrets and,
furthermore, when it is properly played, it is quite the finest[215]
instrument ever yet brought under the control of a single performer.
Again, the pianoforte is not meant for great rapidity of utterance,
such as, for instance, we associate with the violin, the flute or the
clarinet. It is, in fact, often played _too fast_, sounding like a
pianola or a machine rather than an instrument with a soul. If there
be no lingering over the notes, beautiful effects have no opportunity
to be heard. Rapidity and brilliance on the pianoforte do not depend
on so many notes per second but on vitality and precision of accent.
These admirable qualities of the instrument are due to the great
number of vibrating metal strings (in a modern concert-grand, about
two hundred and thirty, _i.e._, three strings to each of the twelve
notes of the seven octaves, save for a few of the lowest bass notes);
to the large sounding board (about twenty-four square feet, on the
largest model), and above all to the damper pedal which Rubinstein--so
appropriately--calls the soul of the pianoforte. The very term
Pianoforte implies a wealth of meaning; for a special glory of the
instrument is its power of shading, its flexibility of utterance, from
piano to forte or vice versa. The limits themselves, to be sure, are
not so striking as in certain other instruments, _e.g._, the
pianoforte cannot produce the almost ghostly whisper of which the
clarinet is capable, nor can it equal the trumpet or the trombone in
intensity or volume. But it can produce a very beautiful pianissimo;
and if a sense of relativity be kept, and soft effects begun quietly
enough, it can be made to sound with remarkable brilliancy. The
pianoforte should always be played with a keen regard for this power
of shading, of nuance; the tones should undulate like the winds or the
waves. Anything like the steady sostenuto level for which the organ
shows itself so fitted is, except for special effects, entirely
foreign to the nature of the pianoforte. Nor should we ever attempt to
make it, per se, a loud, overpowering instrument. Its forte and its
brilliancy are purely relative; and, when forced to do something
unsuited to its real nature, it protests with a hard, unmelodious
tone.
[Footnote 213: The few exceptions being the Polish Songs, the Trio for
Violin, 'Cello and Pianoforte and the orchestral accompaniment to the
two Concertos.]
[Footnote 214: There will occur to every one numerous passages in
which the pianoforte is expected to be a kettle-drum, or where the
figuration is far better suited to the violin than to the hand in
connection with keys.]
[Footnote 215: This by reason of its combined powers in melody,
harmony and rhythm. Some of these qualities it shares, to be sure,
with the organ; but the organ is inherently lacking in rhythm, and its
solid, block-like tones do not exercise the same fascination upon the
imagination as do the fleeting sounds of the pianoforte. It is, of
course, possible and desirable to enjoy both instruments--each in its
own proper sphere, and each for its characteristic effects.]
Likewise the two pedals,[216] when their technical names are
understood, imply their own meaning, just as their popular
designations hint at the way in which they are often abused. The pedal
employed by the _right_ foot, properly called the "damper pedal," is
so named because, by its action, _all_ the dampers of the key-board
may be raised simultaneously. This allows the strings to vibrate
together and to send forth great waves of colored sound like those
produced by an Aeolian harp; an effect similar to that heard when a
sea-shell is held to the ear. The pianoforte, in fact, has aptly been
called "a harp laid on its back" to which the action of keys has been
applied. Accordingly an open, flowing style (arpeggio) is one of the
idioms best suited to its nature. To secure proper contrast, a
massive, chordal style is sometimes employed by such composers as
Schumann, Brahms and Franck--even at times by Chopin himself; but that
the extended arpeggio (often merely two voices, with the body of tone
secured by the pedal) is the norm may be seen from almost any page of
Chopin's compositions. The resonance and carrying power of these waves
are intensified by raising the lid[217] of the pianoforte; for then
they are brought to a focus and projected into space. The effect
produced by raising the dampers is appropriate and beautiful, not
alone with consonant chords but, at times, equally with chords that
are unrelated; which, were they sustained for long by an organ, would
be intolerably harsh. But the tone of the pianoforte is so fleeting
that such a mixture ensures great brilliance and warmth without undue
jargon, and is thus akin to the blending of strange colors by modern
painters. Many people, in fact, play the pianoforte with too _little_,
rather than too _much_, pedal; or with too much pedal used the wrong
way! A definite attempt should be made to cultivate a feeling for
color and warmth of tone; a hard, colorless tone on the pianoforte
being a great blemish as it is so unnecessary. The following passage
illustrates the above points.
[Footnote 216: It is understood that all the comments are based on the
action of a concert-grand pianoforte, since on an upright or a
square--because of mechanical limitations of space--the effects are
quite different.]
[Footnote 217: In this connection, even at the risk of seeming to
preach, let the advice be given that _nothing_ should ever be put on
top of a grand pianoforte: neither flowers, afternoon tea-sets,
bird-cages, books, nor even an aquarium! For the lid is not merely a
cover, but an additional sounding-board, and must always be in
readiness to be so used. The pianoforte as a coloristic instrument, in
short, is completely itself _only_ when played with the lid raised.]
[Music: CHOPIN: _Barcarolle_]
There is really no such thing on the pianoforte as a "pure" single
tone. It is an acoustical law that no tone exists by itself, but
always generates a whole series of overtones[218] or "upper partials,"
as they are called, _e.g._
[Music]
[Footnote 218: An instrument designed to reinforce these upper tones,
so that they may be clearly heard, is to be found in any Physical
Laboratory. That these tones really vibrate "sympathetically" may be
proved by striking _ff_ [Transcriber's Note: Music example indicates
_sf_] this note [Music: C2 With damper pedal] and then pressing down
_very lightly_ the keys of G and E just above middle C, thus removing
the individual dampers of these notes. In a quiet room the tones are
distinctly audible. For another rewarding experiment of the same
nature, see the Introduction to the first volume of Arthur Whiting's
_Pedal Studies_ and the well-known treatise of Helmholtz.]
Even what we call the perfectly consonant chord of C major, _e.g._,
[Music] would be slightly qualified and colored by the B-flat, and
this effect has actually been utilized by Chopin in the final cadence
of his Prelude in F major, No. 23, _e.g._
[Music]
In this example the E-flat must be very delicately accented and _both_
pedals freely used.
Let it be clearly understood, therefore, that the damper
pedal--popularly but erroneously called the "loud pedal"--has nothing
to do with "noise" as such. Its purpose is to amplify and color the
waves of sound and these waves may vary all the way from _pp_ to _ff_.
The dynamic gradation of pianoforte tone is caused by the amount of
force with which the hammer strikes the wires; and this power is
applied by the attack and pressure of the fingers. The damper pedal
will, to be sure, reinforce fortissimo effects, but logically it is
only a _means_ of _reinforcement_ and should never be used so that a
mere "roar of sound" is produced. The normal pianoforte tone, however,
is that brought forth in connection with the damper pedal, and only to
gain an effect of intentional coolness and dryness do we see in
pianoforte literature the direction "senza pedal"; passages so marked
being often most appropriate as a strong contrast to highly colored
ones.[219]
[Footnote 219: For a complete and illuminating treatise on the pedals
and their artistic use, see the aforesaid two volumes of _Pedal
Studies_ by Arthur Whiting (G. Schirmer, New York).]
An important adjunct of the instrument, though even less intelligently
used, is the pedal employed by the left foot; that popularly known as
the "soft pedal," but of which the technical name is the "una corda"
pedal. By this device on a grand pianoforte the whole key-board is
shifted from left to right, so that the hammers strike but _two_ wires
in each group of three, and the third wire of the set is left free to
vibrate sympathetically. Thus a very etherial, magical quality of tone
is produced, especially in the upper ranges of the instrument. In the
middle register, passages played forte or fortissimo will have a
richness comparable to the G string of a violin. The effect is
analogous to that of a viol d'amour which has, as is well known
(stretched underneath the strings, which produce the actual tone) a
set of additional strings, freely vibrating. Although this "una
corda"[220] pedal may be used in a dynamic sense to reduce, as it
were, the size of the instrument, its chief purpose is coloristic,
_i.e._, to make possible a _special quality_ of tone. This statement
is proved by directions in pianoforte literature as far back as
Beethoven, in whose Sonatas we find the dynamic marks of _f_ and _ff_
coupled with the proscribed use of the una corda pedal. In any case,
this left-foot pedal should not be abused; for, just because the tone
quality produced thereby is so beautiful and characteristic, it soon
becomes, if constantly employed, rather cloying. The dynamic gradation
of tone is primarily a matter for the control of the fingers, _i.e._,
the touch. The damper pedal is for sonority and color; the una corda
for special shades, and all three factors--touch and the two
pedals--are combined in pianistic effects which only a trained
technique and artistic judgment can regulate.[221]
[Footnote 220: The term dates from the period when this pedal
controlled three shifts: una corda, due corde and tre corde; the
hammer striking respectively one, two or three strings. The whole
mechanism is well implied in the German word _Verschiebung_, _i.e._,
the shoving along--so frequent in Schumann's works, _e.g._, the middle
part of his _Vogel als Prophet_ from the _Waldscenen_, op. 82, No. 7.]
[Footnote 221: American pianofortes also have a middle pedal called
the "sustaining pedal," by which tones in the lower register may be
prolonged. It has not proved to be of great value, though there are
occasional passages, _e.g._, the closing measures of the second
movement of Cesar Franck's _Violin Sonata_, where it may be
effectively employed.]
Even a slight analysis of Chopin's style proves that it is based upon
logical inferences, drawn from the series of overtones as they are
generated and reinforced by the very nature of the pianoforte. From
the wide spacing of the lower tones of the series Chopin derived the
extended grouping of his arpeggios, _e.g._,
[Music]
[Music: Prelude, No. 19]
so that the _chord_ of the _10th_, instead of the former grouping
within the octave, may be considered the basis of his harmonic scheme.
By this means a great gain was made in richness and sonority. Another
striking feature of Chopin's style is found in those groups of
spray-like, superadded notes with which the melody is embellished. It
is evident, in many cases at least, that these tones are not merely
embroidery in the ordinary sense. Rather do they represent a
reinforcement of the overtones, ideally or actually present, in
connection with bass tones and chords used in the lower part of the
musical fabric. As a striking example[222] see the long series of
descending non-harmonic tones in the Coda of the _B major Nocturne_,
op. 9, No. 3, and note the delicate colors in the closing arpeggio
chord (to be played with a free use of both pedals).
[Footnote 222: For a commentary on this passage see D.G. Mason's essay
on Chopin in _The Romantic Composers_.]
[Music]
In general, Chopin's style is homophonic--wondrous lyric melodies
which seem to float on waves of richly colored sound. But there is
also much subtly used polyphony, _i.e._, delightful phrases in inner
voices and imitative effects between the different parts. In
comparison, however, with Schumann's style (which is largely on a
polyphonic basis) Chopin is a decidedly homophonic composer.[223] A
great deal of interesting and instructive reading on Chopin is
available and the following works are especially recommended: _Chopin,
the Man and his Music_ by Huneker; the _Life of Chopin_ by Niecks; the
essay on Chopin in Mason's _Romantic Composers_ and in Hadow's
_Studies in Modern Music_; the volume on Chopin by Elie Poiree in the
series _Les Musiciens Celebres_; and the same by Louis Laloy in the
series _Les Maitres de la Musique_; the _Life_ by Liszt (well known
and most valuable as coming from a contemporary and brother musician);
finally a somewhat rhapsodic essay by H.T. Finck in _Chopin and Other
Essays_.
[Footnote 223: For a detailed analysis of many special features of
style see the volume by Edgar Stillman Kelly, _Chopin the Composer_.]
We select, as being thoroughly representative, the following works for
comment: the first Prelude, the A-flat major Etude, the F-sharp minor
Mazurka, the E-flat minor Polonaise, the Barcarolle and the C-sharp
minor Scherzo.[224]
[Footnote 224: To save space, no one of these pieces except the
Barcarolle is given in the Supplement, since they are readily
accessible. The _Barcarolle_, however, is given in order to make it
better known; for although it is one of the most inspired and
beautifully expressed of all Chopin's works, it is heard comparatively
seldom. The best editions of the works are those of Kullak, Mikuli and
Klindworth.]
PRELUDE IN C MAJOR, OP. 28, NO. 1.
This Prelude, the first of the set of 24, is an excellent example of
the sonority Chopin gained from widely extended chords in the bass; by
the use--characteristically bold--of dissonances (measures 13-20), and
by the sensuous richness of the closing measures, in which a wonderful
wave of sound is produced through the damper pedal, in connection with
the blending of the tonic, dominant and subdominant chords. The
prelude is a kind of intensified Bach and may well be compared with
that prelude in the same key which begins the immortal well-tempered
Clavichord. All the Preludes, for their poetic import, finished style
and pianistic effect, are masterpieces of the first rank. Schumann
well says of them: "They are sketches, eagle's feathers, all strangely
intermingled. But in every piece we recognize the hand of Frederic
Chopin; he is the boldest, the proudest poet-soul of his time."
ETUDE IN A-FLAT MAJOR, OP. 25, NO. 1.
This etude, deservedly popular, may be considered the example _par
excellence_ of Chopin's style. The lyric beauty of the melody, the
fascinating modulations, the shades of color alike justify the
following rhapsodic comments of Schumann, "Imagine that an Aeolian
harp possessed all the musical scales, and that the hand of an artist
were to cause them to intermingle in all sorts of fantastic
embellishments, yet in such a way as to leave everywhere audible a
deep fundamental tone and a soft, continuously singing upper voice,
and you will get about the right idea. But it would be an error to
think that Chopin, in playing this etude, permitted every one of the
small notes to be distinctly heard. It was rather an undulation of the
A-flat major chord, here and there thrown aloft by the pedal.
Throughout the harmonies one always heard in great tones a wondrous
melody, while once only, in the middle of the piece, besides that
chief song, a tenor voice became prominent. After the etude a feeling
came over one as of having seen in a dream a beatific picture which,
when already half awake, one would gladly once more recall."
MAZURKA IN F-SHARP MINOR, OP. 6, NO. 1.
As Franz Liszt says in his life of Chopin, "The Mazurka is not only a
dance, it is a national poem, and like all poems of conquered nations,
is shaped so as to let the blazing flames of patriotic feeling shimmer
out through the transparent veil of popular melody." The chief
peculiarity of the Mazurka (which is always in triple rhythm, with a
latitude in speed from Presto to Mesto) is the scheme of
accentuation--the normal accent on the first beat being systematically
transferred to the second and third beats. We also find in the Mazurka
frequent indications for the use of the so-called "tempo rubato," a
proper conception of which is so essential in the performance of
Chopin's music. Tempo rubato--so often abused!--literally meaning
borrowed time, is simply free rhythm emancipated from rigid,
scholastic bonds. As Huneker well says, "Chopin must be played in
curves" with emotional freedom; just as the heart, when excited,
increases the speed of its pulsations, and in moments of calm and
depression slows down. The jerky, really unrhythmical playing of
certain performers reminds us of a person suffering from _palpitation_
of the heart. Liszt's description of the rubato is most suggestive: "A
wind plays in the leaves, life unfolds and develops beneath them, but
the tree remains the same." In Chopin, accordingly, the ground rhythm
should always be preserved, though varied with subtle, and yet logical
fluctuations.
POLONAISE IN E-FLAT MINOR, OP. 26, NO. 11.
The Polonaise[225] is the great national dance of the Poles; an
impassioned and yet stately pageant in which, as Liszt says, "The
noblest traditional feelings of ancient Poland are represented." This
dance--or rather, processional march--is always in triple rhythm and
based on a definite rhythmic formula: either [Music] or [Music]. The
frequent feminine endings are also a characteristic feature, _e.g._,
the cadence in the well known military Polonaise in A major:
[Music]
To return to the example being considered,--it is in Three-part form
(A, B, A, with Coda) the first part in the minor mode; the second part
beautifully contrasted by being in B major--introduced by the implied
enharmonic change from E-flat to D-sharp. This first part, remarkable
for its passionate, headlong impetuosity, should dispel any idea that
Chopin was a weak sentimentalist. Although of a delicate constitution
he certainly had a fiery soul. The second part, sotto voce--note the
feminine endings--reminds us of the muffled music of a military band
as it passes by.
[Footnote 225: For an account of its origin see the chapter in
Huneker's book and the article on the Polonaise in Grove's
Dictionary.]
BARCAROLLE IN F-SHARP MAJOR, OP. 60.
This composition, in many ways the most wonderful single piece we have
from Chopin, is the quintessence of his genius. It seems, in fact, to
contain everything: appealing melodies, wealth of harmony, bold
dissonances (note in particular the 6th and 7th measures of the Coda),
brilliant embellishments; and withal, it is written in a pianistic
style which, for richness and warmth of color, is quite unsurpassed.
It is also most sincerely conceived, intensifying the suggestiveness
of the descriptive title. Would that objective program music were
always so true to life and to the real nature of music! It is in free
three-part form, the first part of a calm nature in which we are
rocked on gently undulating waves; a more rhythmic second part where,
as Kullak says, the bass seems to suggest the monotonous steadiness of
oar-strokes; an interlude, marked "dolce sfogato," introduced by some
delightful modulations, as if in a quiet nook the poet were dreaming
of the beauties of love and nature; an impassioned return to the chief
subject, together with a partial presentation of the middle portion;
and finally a long and brilliant coda. The composition is unique in
romantic literature for its power to arouse the imagination, or, as
Schumann so well says, "to set people romancing for themselves."
SCHERZO IN C-SHARP MINOR, OP. 39.
The four Scherzos, for passion and eloquence, rank among Chopin's most
characteristic works, though it seems impossible to trace a logical
correspondence between the former classic meaning of the term
"Scherzo" and the contents revealed to us in these poems; save that
they are all in triple rhythm, hence on a dance-form basis. As Niecks
well says, "There is in them neither frolicsomeness nor humor"--such,
for example, as we find in Beethoven's Scherzos--and he suggests that
"Capriccio" might be a less misleading designation. But, however
inexplicable the title which Huneker thinks Chopin may have applied in
serious jest, there is no doubt of the uncompromising dignity of the
utterance, and there is often a grim irony, a wayward scorn, which a
liberal interpretation might well consider attributes of humor. These
were marked traits in Chopin's nature, and the Scherzos are their
revelation in terms of music. Schumann's well-known comment is
apropos--"How is gravity to clothe itself if jest goes about in dark
veils?" This Scherzo (Presto con fuoco) is in extended three-part
form; the dominant note of the first part being one of feverish
agitation, which expresses itself in spasmodic outbursts. The second
part, with its broad cantabile melody of a hymn-like character,
reveals a calmer mood. The last note of each phrase is adorned
throughout with lovely coloristic embellishments. After a return to
the first theme, the second part is also repeated; this time with
striking modulatory changes which strongly resemble the mood of
Wotan's Farewell, in the third Act of Wagner's _Valkyrie_. A long and
fiery coda of new thematic material closes the work. The major ending
is like a shaft of light dispelling storm-tossed clouds.
Chopin's works are so instinct with genius and have proved to be so
immortal that they may well be considered as ideal witnesses to the
triumph of quality over mere quantity or sensational display. To-day,
when we suffer from musical bombast, their refined message is of
special significance.