The year 2010 will mark the two hundredth anniversary of Frédéric Chopin’s birth (1 March 1810). Although his music is a product of the nineteenth-century aesthetic, its appeal remains undiminished by time. His contributions to the piano repertoire are as voluminous as they are unique.

While Chopin did not invent the genre of the nocturne, he was certainly its best-known champion, writing nineteen in all and revisiting the form repeatedly between 1830 and 1846. These lush night pieces generally feature a compelling melodic line with a supportive bass figure. They begin introspectively but often become quite passionate in the middle section before returning to the original effect in the closing passage.

The Nocturnes Op. 48, nos. 1 and 2 (1841) are dedicated to Laure Duperré, one of Chopin’s favourite pupils. The first begins with a sense of controlled grief; emotions build to a climax in the middle section before composure is regained in the latter half. The second mirrors the minor tonality and form (ABA) of its predecessor, but is less lugubrious in nature and less volatile in sentiment.

The Barcarolle in F sharp Major, Op. 60 (1845) evokes the gentle rocking of Venetian gondolas through a hypnotic accompaniment and florid melodic lines. Chopin varies each repetition of the initial statement, moving from light ornamentation to more profound elaborations. The work is understated in nature, its primary challenge lying in the necessity to control the soft ranges while creating an illusion of simplicity and effortlessness.

The Ballade No. 4 in F minor, Op. 52 dates from 1842, a critical year for Chopin which saw the last of his ballades as well as the final scherzos, polonaises and impromptus. Chopin’s works were by no means pictorial; however, as with the term barcarolle, certain implications attached to the name ballade. The poetic form of this medieval folk genre experienced a revival in the early nineteenth century, and poets like Adam Mickiewicz, a compatriot and friend, used it to great effect. In fact, Schumann once suggested Chopin may have been inspired to write Op. 52 after reading Mickiewicz’s Lithuanian ballade The Three Sons of Budrys, in which a nobleman sends his sons to foreign lands in search of wealth and wives. After a harsh winter he fears them all dead; they return one by one with brides in tow, but no plunder. This link between literary and musical works is pure conjecture; still, the narrative and theatrical nature of the piece is undeniable.

Structurally the Ballade is a cross-pollination of a sonata form and a set of variations. It begins with a brief introduction entreating listeners to sit back and hear a tale. The main theme enters in a minor key, like a slow waltz despite its 6/8 metre. This is followed by Variations I and II on theme one, and then a transition passage. The plot thickens with theme two, a barcarolle-style melody in a major key. The exposition is succeeded by a middle section featuring figurations on theme one and two. Finally, the introductory invocation intrudes to herald the return of theme one in the recapitulation; Variations III and IV replace the earlier variations. The piece finishes with a bravura climax.

Chopin remained deeply attached to his native Poland. When political events conspired to keep him out of the country, he used his compositions to maintain his emotional connection, turning again and again to the Polish mazurka, a small-scale genre appropriate for expressing hopes, joys, and regrets. Chopin wrote over fifty mazurkas, taking the original form as a source of inspiration to create personal, contemporary dances. The genre actually encompasses several related Polish dances: the mazur, the oberek, and the kujawiak.  All three were sung dances, accompanied by bagpipes, which, although differing in tempo, generally maintained a common metre and an accent on beat two or three. The oberek came from the Polish term to hop, and the dance incorporated lifts and jumps with a brisk tempo. The kujawiak originated from the Kujawy region of central Poland and was generally calm and smooth, with couples spinning endlessly. The term mazur referred to the inhabitants of the Mazovian plains surrounding Warsaw. While differentiating it from the other dances is problematic, some musicologists see it falling somewhere between the more lyrical kujawiak and the faster paced oberek.

The first two mazurkas to be heard on the program were both written in 1833. Op. 17, no. 4 was dedicated to Lina Freppa, a singer and friend from whom Chopin learned much about melodic writing. This particular dance is one of his most intense examples of the genre, with a powerful sense of nostalgia permeating both minor and major passages. Op. 24, no. 2 was inscribed to the Comte de Perthuis, director of music to King Louis-Philippe. It has a greater sense of hope than the first dance, although it maintains the same ternary structure. The next two mazurkas date from 1846, when Chopin’s relationship with George Sand was disintegrating. The Comtesse Laura Czosnowﾭskaw was a fellow Pole whom Chopin visited during this time, and he repaid her hospitality with the dedication of Op. 63, no. 3. Here again there is a wistful note to the music, alleviated briefly by the major tonality in the middle passage. Op. 67, no. 4, published posthumously, subtly reflects the previous mazurka but with a touch more anger brewing beneath the surface.

The Sonata No. 3 in B minor Op. 58 was written at George Sand’s summer estate in Nohant in 1844, when Chopin was suffering from a serious depression brought on by news of his father’s death. Perhaps it is not surprising that Chopin produced his longest and most intense work, infusing it with the bittersweet pathos of love, loss, and anguish.

The Sonata harkens back to a classical form of four movements in traditional structures. It commences with a sonata-allegro form and an Allegro Maestoso effect, i.e., relatively fast and majestic. The initial theme is rather martial but the second theme is more nocturne-like. Both are heard throughout the development before the recapitulation concludes the movement with a surprising major tonality. The Scherzo: Molto Vivace shifts the atmosphere to a more jovial temperament with the continuation of the major mode. In its brevity, it relieves some of the darkness of the previous movement, contrasting the melodic outer sections against a contrapuntal-style middle passage. The third movement, the serene but resigned Largo, has long lines and an expansive middle section. The Finale: Presto non tanto is an invigorating rondo which becomes progressively more excited with each return of the main section, and concludes with a thrilling coda.

©2009 by Barbara Siemens, a piano instructor who has done post-graduate work in historical musicology. www.keystothepiano.ca