Chopin: more than a ‘pallid Pole’

Press, 19 April 1980, Page 17

Chopin: more than a ‘pallid Pole’

Chopin: A Biography. By Adam Zamoyski. Collins, London. 336 pp. $24.95. (Reviewed by John Ritchie) From a provocative first chapter in Which he threatens to make shibboleths of much that has been dear to the hearts of innumerable biographers of Chopin, Adam Zamoyski develops his thesis that the “pallid Pole” was more than merely a sickly darling of the salons and a persistently tragic figure, tine suspects that the slow pace of the (early part of this book will lead to the author losing sight of his claim. But the totality of the content rather than the thread of the argument provides a more rounded - and credible character than the recent study by Ruth Jordan.. Both authors traverse the same material, but Zamoyski, a New Yorker with a Polish background, appears to be more at home with the mass of source material at his disposal. As a layabout, joker and spendthrift of whom it was said “only his cough was dependable,” Frederic Chopin was nevertheless a lovable person. A

simple .man, he made few enemies. Professional equals considered him highly. Schumann, Liszt, Mendelssohn -and Clara Wieck all seemed to be , concerned with keeping him at the work in hand. The encouragement he received- is one • of the heart-warming aspects of his life emphasised in this study. Performer or composer? That was the question over which Chopin remained equivocal. • Many of . his contemporaries chose both activities. When, at last, the “Gasette musicale”wrote “Consent to pass for what you are, the greatest pianist in Europe,” he closed up shop as a performer at the age of 27 and rarely appeared in public recital thereafter. His judgment in view of his delicate style of playing and delicate state of health, was probably sound. The author insinuates a convincing picture of artistic and aristocratic life in Paris in the 1830 s, “the kitchen of the Romantic movement.” Clearly in an age of revolution Paris’s immigrant-fed cosmopolitanism tended to overpower Chopin at times, but it also contributed to his success.

especially through the Polish' refugee group which swelled his audience. It becomes questionable whether Chopin really was homesick for his native land; in fact, unwittingly, Zamoyski conveys a contrary view. He also puts to rest the story, started n the late nineteenth century by Ferdinand Hoesick and continued sensationally in recent years by. Pauline Czernicka, that Delfine Potocka shared an affair with Chopin. Letters in the composer’s hand were the evidence. Establishing the virtual •certainly of their being forged, or not ever having existed is done with cool logic. After all, George Sand — amply covered in the biography — was surely enough for a not-so-passionate Pole. There is a bonus in the form of one of the many illustrations, a photograph of Chopin in 1849, the year of his death. An enlargement of a reproduction which appeared in Cortot’s book, it captures a reality lacking in most of the traditional portraits and busts. It comes as a surprise to appreciate photography’s lengthening history.