THOUGHTS ABOUT MUSIC

Evening Star, Issue 21544, 17 October 1933, Page 3

THOUGHTS ABOUT MUSIC

[By L.D.A.] “ Music gives tone to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, a charm to sadness, gaiety and life to everything."—Plato. Some silly ass—l can’t call him anything else—writing in a London paper 'lately had the colossal nerve and impudence to deny Chopin a place among the "really” great masters of music. By this precious scribe, the illustrious Polish musician, whose death anniversary occurs to-day, is described as “ a small lyrical composer”! This is almost as' rich as the fatuous utterance of that other pseudo-critic—quoted in this column some months ago—who said “ Chopin was a good musician, but no genius.” The marvel is that these persons erfn say such things and “ get away” with them: nobody bothers to refute the libels, possibly because they are palpably so ridiculous. But my musical gorge always rises at this type of puerile iconodasm. and I cannot resist having a smack at it. / It might seem, perhaps, equally absurd—nay, even presumptuous—do attempt at this time of day to write anything new about Chopin and jiis art. A well-known teacher ’ once remarked: “When I open a piece by Chopin to give a first lessons on it, 1 feel like the devout Moslem who enters a mosque—inclined not only to take off my hat, but to divest myself also of my shoes, in token ,of complete prostration before a supei’-huumn presence. No other composer for the pianoforte, not even Beethoven, has produced musical works combining in each one so many beauties and so much variety. In any, and in all of them, wo find perfect material, perfect workmanship,- perfect ‘ bravura ’ passages each entirely different from every other, and every one positively original; nothing ordinary or commonplace—perfection of proportion, of contrast, of ending, neither too prolonged nor too abrupt, and with perfact pianism throughout.”

This tribute to the Polish master, though a trifle schdplgirlish in tone, contains no word of exaggeration. Chopin, in, brief, was a composer for the piano pre-eminent beyond comparison—a complete stylist, a_ fascinating melodist, and a most original manipulator of puissant, refined rhythm and harmony. The marvel is that, although the idiom in which Chopin worked was comparatively narrow, and the constant use of such’forms as nocturne, mazurka, valse, etude, ballade, scherzo, etc., involved persistent reiteration of similar ideas, yet he never actually.repeats himself: each presentation of the subject reveals an aspect thereof not previously touched, and his fertility of invention and resource appears truly inexhaustible. This is the real wonder of Chopin. As Dannrenter once wrote: “Chopin seems like a magician possessing the secret to transmute whatever ho wishes into some weird crystal—convincing in its conformation, transparent in its eccentricity, of which no duplicate is possible and no imitation desirable.”

Chopin was a supreme innovation, not merely in regard to the technical treatment of the piano, but in a much larger sense; he opened up a new realm of musical ideas, and discovered fresh ways of expressing them. We may be told that his emotional medium was not of the highest; that his moral nature was not cast in a sublime mould; that his intellect was not profound; that his general bias was toward .the romantic, sentimental, and exotic. All this may be true, but what of it? As another commentator has put it; “ if any deficiencies bo found in Chopin’s music—and i do not say they can—they must bo regarded but as mere spots on Ins sun, the effulgence of which is not thereby obscured, but rather strengthened and enhanced.” Chopin’s compositions, however, speak for themselves to all who have ears to hear. They are with us for ever, and, to many of us, have become as familiar and beloved as the characters created by Charles Dickens.

But Chopin himself is not hero; though one of the greatest pianists who ever lived, no record, save at secondhand, exists of his performances. It is with immense interest, therefore, that we read reliable contemporary accounts of his own playing and descriptions of his personality. Of these the best, and probably the most trustworthy, appeared in the columns of the London ‘ Athenmum,' under date of July 1, 1848. Written by the well-known critic, 11. F. Chorley, this article reviews a recital given by Chopin a week previously, Incidentally it affords, too, a glimpse of musical criticism at its peak —a veritable model which many socalled critics of to-day might well copy. Says Chorley. “At a period when so many sources of pleasure appear to be exhausted—when purely mechanical skill on the pianoforte, too, has been carried to a point precluding the hope of much further discovery—M. Chopin gave Ins audience, yesterday week, an hour and a, half of such musical enjoyment as only great beauty combined with great novelty can command. “ Wo have had by turns this great player and the other great composer; wo have been treated to the smooth, the splendid, the sentimental, the severe in stylo upon the keyboard, one after. the other. But M. Chopin has shown us yet another mode of which the instrument is capable—one in which delicacy, picturesqueness, elegance, and even humour may be blended so as to produce that rare thing—a new delight. His treatment of the piano is peculiar; and though we know that a system is not to bo explained in one word we will mention a point or two so entirely novel that even the distant amateur may in part conceive how from such motions an original style of performance, and thence of composition, must inevitably result.” * * * * “ Whereas other pianists have hitherto proceeded on the intention of equalising the power of the fingers, M. Chopin’s plans are arranged with the idea of utilising digital inequality of power, and thus provide varieties of expression not attainable by those with whom evenness is the primary essential. Allied with this fancy are M. Chopin s characteristic manner of treating the scale and the trill; his method of sliding from note to note with one and the same finger, and of passing the third finger over the fourth. All these innqvations arc part and parcel of his music as properly rendered; enacted by himself they charm by an ease and grace which, 'though superfine, are totally distinct from affectation. After the ‘ hammer and tongs ’ style of some recent pianists, tho exquisite delicacy of M. Chopin's tone ai.tl the elasticity of his passage work are delicious to the car.’’ Tho next comments arc particularly interesting by reason of tho references to Chopin’s “ rubato ” playing. Hero is tho record of tho man who actually heard the master put into practice his

own precepts regarding what is termed "tempo rubato." It should be remarked that Chopin always kept a metronome on his piano, and that to him rubato did not mean the abandonment of rhythm which some pianists affect when performing his works. Chopin himself said: "The singing hand may deviate from strict time, but not the accompanying hand. Imagine a tree with its branches swayed by the wind—the trunk is the steady time, the moving branches and leaves are the variants. Bearing this in mind, it is most illuminating to read Chorley's further description of Chopin's style, and especially his admirable definition of the master's handling of free time: "He makes a wide use of ' tempo rubato,' leaning about within his bars more than any player we remember, but still subject to a presiding sentiment of measure such as presently habituates the ear to the liberties taken. In music other than his own we happen to know M. Chopin can be 'as staid and precise as the metronome itself. But tho works of Chopin lose half their charm unless played with a certain freak and license—impossible to imitate or to teach, but quite irresistible if the player at all feels the music. This becomes doubly sure after hearing the master render his compositions. " The actual programmes we heard at this concert comprised two nocturnes, three etiides, the ' Berceuse,' a scherzo, two valses, and the ' G Minor Ballade.' Most of these might bo called ' gems ' without misuse of the well-worn symbol. Yet if fantasy be allowed to characterise what is essentially fantastic, they are not so much gems as, pearls—pearls in the changeful delicacy of their colour, in occasional irregularities of form, though by no means destructive of symmetry —pearls in their not being tho product of robustness. Chopin's music will not displace or supersede others of our musical treasures, being different in tone and quality from any possessions wo already enjoy; but, inasmuch r.s art is not final, nor invention to bo'narrowed within tho limits of experience, no musician worthy of the name can remain insensible of their ineffable and peculiar beauty." * # * * A masterly disquisition, indeed, both upon tho performer and his creations. I wonder what Chorley would say now if he, after hearing Chopin play his own works, happened to read the opinion of the silly ass abovo quoted—that Chopin was a "small lyrical composer " ! Let us, on this 17th day of October, pay a silent tribute to the memory of unique and immortal genius.