Mr. Krehbiel once wrote, in discussing the question of the re-scoring
of the Chopin concertos: “It is more than anything else a question
of taste that is involved in this matter and, as so often happens,
individual likings, rather than artistic principles, will carry the
day.”
It is admitted at the outset by all musicians that the orchestrations
of the two concertos in E and F minor of Chopin are meagre and
conventional, not to say hackneyed.
Written in the pre-Beethoven style they simply rob the piano soli
of their incomparable beauty, become a clog instead of an aid, and
have done more to prejudice musicians against Chopin than any other
compositions he has written. That they were penned by Chopin himself is
more than doubtful, as his knowledge of instrumentation was somewhat
slender, and the amazing fact will always remain that while his piano
compositions are ever fresh and far removed from all that is trite
or commonplace, the orchestration of his concertos is irksome and
uninteresting to a degree. In both concertos the opening tuttis are
long and take off all the cream and richness of the soli that follow.
The tone of the piano can scarcely vie with that of the orchestra, yet
in the first movement of the E minor concerto the lovely, plaintive
solo of the first subject in E minor is deliberately played through;
the audience and the pianist must patiently wait until it is finished
and then, like an absurd anti-climax, the piano breaks in, repeating
the same story, only dwarfed and colorless in comparison. In the Tausig
version of the E minor opening the tutti differs, in that it omits
entirely the piano solo, contenting itself after the first theme, with
the small secondary subject in E minor that is afterward played by the
piano. Then come the rich opening E minor chords on the piano, and we
are once more plunged in medias res without further ado.
The orchestral tutti before the piano enters in C major, is in the
Tausig version very effective despite the dreaded trombones. It must
be admitted that here we get some Meistersinger color which is--so the
story runs--because Wagner had a hand in the arrangement. Certainly
Tausig submitted it to him for judgment.
The orchestral canvas is broadened, the tints brighter, deeper, richer
and offering a better background for the jewelled passage work of the
piano.
The brass choir is so balanced as to float the staccato tone of the
piano, giving it depth and sonority.
Take for example the horn pedal-point in E, which occurs in the middle
of the romanza where the piano has the delicate, crystalline chromatic
cadenza of three bars only. What a stroke of genius for Tausig to
introduce the brass here! It floats the fairy-like progressions of the
solo and in what ethereal hues! But orthodox pianists will say this is
not Chopin, and raise their Czerny-hands in horror.
The changes in the piano parts of the first movement of the E minor
concerto are effective, they in no sense destroy the integrity of the
ideas; where there is a chromatic scale in unison, Tausig breaks
it into double sixths and fourths and chordal figures which are not
simplifications or mere pyrotechnics but decidedly more “pianistic” and
brilliant.
One thing seems to be forgotten in discussing Chopin piano
literature--his music is more than abreast of our times. Consider the
fantasy, opus 49, the scherzi, the ballades, the sonatas--the two later
ones--the études and it will be seen that the figures are modern even
to novelty; that Schumann, Liszt and Rubinstein borrowed, even if they
amplified, and Tausig, if he did alter a few details, did not commit a
sin against good taste. Carl Tausig of all virtuosi penetrated deeper
into the meanings of the Polish tone-poet, interpreting his music in an
incomparable manner.
As regards the coda of the first movement of the E minor concerto
Tausig simply takes the awkward trill from the left hand and gives
it to the ’celli and contrabasso and the piano plays the passage in
unison. Most pianists, Rosenthal excepted, acknowledge that the trill
is both distracting and ineffective.
The chromatic work at the end of this movement is broad and infinitely
more klaviermässig than the older version, the piano closing at the
same moment with the orchestra, the audience not being compelled to
listen to cadences of the Hummel type to the bitter end. The piano part
of the second movement is hardly touched by Tausig; it could not be
improved, but the orchestration is so spiritualized and so delicately
colored that even a purist may not groan in disapproval.
Against the Tausig version of the rondo the war of complaint is
frequently raised. “What, he dares to tamper with the very notes,
introducing sixteenths where Chopin wrote eighths!” Yes, this is true,
but what an improvement! How much brighter and livelier the rhythm
sounds; how much more joyful and elastic! and when the piano part
enters it is with added zest we listen to its cheerful song. It is
a relief too, when the flute and oboe take up the theme, the piano
contenting itself with a trill. The other changes in the solo part
in this movement are all in admirable taste and effective but they
are not easier to play than the original. The movement loses none of
its freshness by the additions, while it gains in tone and dignity.
The octaves at the end destroy in some degree the euphony but add in
brilliancy. It is seldom one hears them played with clearness and
lightness; but when pounded out they become distressingly monotonous.
If a concerto is an harmonious relationship between the solo instrument
and the orchestra then the Tausig version of the E minor concerto
fulfils perfectly the idea. Of course if a poor conductor who wishes to
make a scandal out of each tutti takes hold of the work and a mediocre
pianist attempts the solo part, critics may indeed carp and say that
Tausig has spoiled the concerto with his additions.
The argument that holds good in the case of added accompaniments of
Robert Franz to Handel is the same here but best of all remains the
unalterable fact that the Tausig version is more effective and what
pianist can resist such an argument! Tausig in the E minor and Richard
Burmeister in the F minor concerto have given these two works of Chopin
a better frame; the picture appears clearer and more beautiful, details
becoming more significant making both works better understood.
Mr. Burmeister has not only re-orchestrated the F minor concerto, but
his cadenza at the close of the first movement--a cadenza that embodies
in an admirable manner the spirit of its themes--in reality supplies
a missing coda. There are also some important changes in the last
movement. Mr. Krehbiel justly says, Tausig’s emendations have greatly
added “to the stature of the concerto.”