Chopin at 200 - SBC Talks Booklet - Edition Peters

CHOPIN AT 200 

AT SOUTHBANK CENTRE 

As part of the International Piano Series 2009/10, 

join the celebrations of the bicentenary of the birth 

of Chopin with the following concerts: 

MONDAY 23 NOVEMBER 2009 

LOUIS LORTIE 

TUESDAY 19 JANUARY 2010 

CÉDRIC TIBERGHIEN 

SATURDAY 6 FEBRUARY 2010 

CHOPIN FORUM 

A discussion of the man and his 

music by leading Chopin scholars 

Monday 22 February 2010 

KRYSTIAN ZIMERMAN 

Chopin Birthday Concert 1 

Saturday 27 February 2010 

CHOPIN MASTERCLASS 

PETER DONOHOE 

Six pre-concert talks in the 

International Piano Series 2009/10 

by some of the world’s leading 

experts on Chopin and Polish music 

CHOPIN 

CELEBRATING A MUSICAL IMAGINATION 

Talks booklet 

Monday 1 March 2010 

MAURIZIO POLLINI 

Chopin Birthday Concert 2 

Thursday 25 March 2010 

YEVGENY SUDBIN 

Wednesday 14 April 2010 

NIKOLAI DEMIDENKO 

Thursday 29 April 2010 

PASCAL ROGÉ 

Tickets 0844 847 9910 

www.southbankcentre.co.uk

Six pre-concert talks on the theme Chopin at 200: Celebrating 

a Musical Imagination accompany the Chopin recitals in the 

International Piano Series 2009/10. Convened by John Rink 

and presented by leading international experts on Chopin and 

Polish music, the talks focus on Chopin’s musical innovations 

as well as his creative use of past traditions. 

Programme 

23 November 2009 Revolutionary Studies David Rowland 

19 January 2010 Echoes of Poland Adrian Thomas 

22 February 2010 The Classical Romantic John Rink 

25 March 2010 The Spirit of Improvisation Jim Samson 

14 April 2010 Virtuosity Redefined John Rink 

29 April 2010 Music in Sound Roy Howat 

Speakers 

Pianist Roy Howat is author of the recently 

published book The Art of French Piano Music 

(Yale University Press). He has also edited 

Urtext volumes of Debussy and Fauré piano 

and chamber music, much of which he has 

recorded on CD. He is Keyboard Research 

Fellow at the Royal Academy of Music. 

John Rink is Professor of Musical 

Performance Studies at the University of 

Cambridge. Author of a Cambridge Music 

Handbook on Chopin’s concertos, he directs 

Chopin’s First Editions Online 

(www.cfeo.org.uk) and the Online Chopin 

Variorum Edition (www.ocve.org.uk). He is a 

noted performer on period pianos. 

David Rowland is Professor of Music and 

Dean of Arts at the Open University, and 

Director of Music at Christ’s College 

Cambridge. He has written extensively on 

the performance history of the early piano, 

and his books include A History of 

Pianoforte Pedalling, The Cambridge 

Companion to the Piano and Early Keyboard 

Instruments: A Practical Guide. 

Jim Samson is Professor of Music at Royal 

Holloway, University of London. He has 

published extensively on the music of 

Chopin and other topics, and in 1989 was 

awarded the Order of Merit from the Polish 

Ministry of Culture. Along with John Rink 

and Jean-Jacques Eigeldinger, he is a 

Series Editor of The Complete Chopin – 

A New Critical Edition, published by 

Peters Edition. 

Adrian Thomas is Professor of Music at 

Cardiff University. He has broadcast and 

published widely on Polish music, including 

monographs on Bacewicz (1985), Górecki 

(1997) and Lutosławski’s Cello Concerto 

(forthcoming). He is the author of Polish 

Music since Szymanowski (2005). 

Chopin at 200

David Rowland 

Chopin at200 

23 November 2009 

Revolutionary Studies 

David Rowland 

Theme 

The early nineteenth century saw a huge 

increase of study literature for the piano in 

which the etude occupied a central place. 

This lecture charts the history of the genre 

and assesses Chopin’s unique position 

within it. 

Quotations 

I told him [Erard, in 1801] I had long 

meditated on a collection of exercises to 

form a complete pianoforte performer to 

which I should give the title ‘Studio’, and 

which we should publish at the same 

time. Now, as Cramer and he were very 

intimate, he divulged the secret to him; 

and as I went out of England the year 

after, Cramer took advantage of my 

absence to be beforehand with me, and 

published his ‘Studio’. (Clementi to the 

publisher Härtel, 1818) 

[On playing five-finger exercises] I soon 

resolved to try to read at the same time 

that I gave my fingers their daily work… 

since then, I have always read during 

practice. (Kalkbrenner, [1831] 1858) 

He feared above all … the abrutissement 

[stupefaction by overwork] of the pupils. 

One day he heard me say that I practised 

six hours a day. He became quite angry, 

and forbade me to practise more than 

three hours. (Chopin’s pupil Dubois, 

reported in Niecks, [1888] 1902) 

He never tired of inculcating that the 

appropriate exercises are not merely 

mechanical but claim the intelligence and 

entire will of the pupil, so that a 

twentyfold or fortyfold repetition (even 

nowadays the worshipped Arcanum of so 

many schools) does no good at all. 

(Chopin’s pupil Mikuli, [1880]) 

I write unaware of what my pen is 

scribbling since at this very moment Liszt 

is playing my [Op. 10] Etudes, transferring 

me beyond the range of sensible thoughts. 

I would like to steal from him the manner 

of performing my own compositions. (Liszt, 

Chopin and Franchomme to Hiller, 1833) 

[Chopin] bade me practise it [Op. 10 No. 

1] in the mornings very slowly. ‘This etude 

will do you good’, he said, ‘if you study it 

as I intended it, it widens the hand and 

enables you to play runs of wide broken 

chords, like bow strokes. But often, 

unfortunately, instead of making people 

learn all that, it makes people unlearn it’. 

I am quite aware that it is a generally 

prevalent error, even in our day, that one 

can only play this study well when one 

possesses a very large hand. But that is 

not the case, only a supple hand is 

required. (Chopin’s pupil Müller-Streicher, 

reported in Niecks, [1888] 1902) 

Did [Clara] Wieck play my Etude [Op. 10 

No. 5] well How could she have chosen 

precisely this Etude, the least interesting 

for those who do not know that it is 

intended for the black keys, instead of 

something better! (Chopin to Fontana, 

1839) 

[Op. 25 No. 1] It would be a mistake, 

however, to suppose that he played in 

such a way that you could hear every note. 

It was rather an undulation of the A-flat 

major chord, propelled aloft every now and 

again from the pedal. … Afterwards one 

felt as though one had just seen a 

beautiful image in a dream. (Schumann, 

[1837] 1965) 

[Op. 25] The etudes are all symbols of his 

bold, inherent creative strength – true 

poetic images. (Schumann, [1837] 1965) 

Texts 

You must appeal to the pupil’s intelligence 

and reason, lead him to work more with 

the mind than with the fingers, to think 

and concentrate more. He must clearly 

understand that the important thing is not 

the quantity by the quality of his work, and 

that purely mechanical work, with no 

thought, is useless. Above all you must 

show him how to work so as to achieve the 

best results in the shortest time and so 

that his virtuosity may equally become a 

means of expression. (Philipp, 1927, 6; 

trans. from Eigeldinger, 1986, 98) 

Developments in didactic keyboard music 

engendered three varieties of composition 

which may be classified briefly as follows: 

(i) exercises, in which a didactic objective 

– the isolation and repetition of a specific 

technical formula – is assigned primary 

attention, any musical or characteristic 

interest being incidental; (ii) etudes, 

wherein musical and didactic functions 

properly stand in a complementary and 

indivisible association; and (iii) concert 

studies, in which the didactic element is 

mostly incidental to the primary 

characteristic substance (though the 

music will invariably involve some 

particular exploitation and demonstration 

of virtuoso technique). (Finlow, 1992, 53). 

In all of them [Chopin’s Etudes] Chopin 

addressed himself systematically to the 

world of pianistic technique which had 

spawned the virtuoso style. But the result 

rises far above the dry exercises of a 

Czerny or the flashy acrobatics of a 

Thalberg. To a degree barely approached 

in earlier piano studies he gave substance 

and poetry to the genre, conquering 

virtuosity on its home ground, and in 

doing so lifting himself clear of the 

surrounding lowland of mediocrity. 

(Samson, 1985, 59). 

References 

Clementi, Muzio, 1801. Introduction to the Art of 

Playing on the Piano forte (London: Clementi & Co.; 

reprinted in an edition by Sandra Rosenblum: New 

York: Da Capo Press, 1974). 

Clementi, Muzio, 1817–26. Gradus ad parnassum, 

volumes 1–3 (London: Clementi & Co.; republished 

in many subsequent editions). 

Cramer, Johann Baptist, 1804–08. Studio per il 

pianoforte, books 1 and 2 (London: the author; 

republished in many subsequent editions). 

Eigeldinger, Jean-Jacques, 1986. Chopin: Pianist and 

Teacher as seen by his Pupils, trans. Naomi Shohet 

with Krysia Osostowicz and Roy Howat, ed. Roy 

Howat (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press). 

Finlow, Simon, 1992. ‘The twenty-seven etudes and 

their antecedents’, in Jim Samson (ed.), The 

Cambridge Companion to Chopin (Cambridge: 

Cambridge University Press), pp. 50–77. 

Kalkbrenner, Frédéric, 1831. Méthode pour apprendre 

le Piano à l’aide du Guide-Mains, Op. 108 (Paris: 

Pleyel). Trans. Sabilla Novello as Method of Learning 

the Pianoforte (London: Novello, 1858). 

Mikuli, Carl, [1880]. Foreword to Fr. Chopin’s 

Pianoforte-Werke (Leipzig: Kistner). Translation from 

Eigeldinger, 1986. 

Niecks, Frederick, [1888] 1902. Frederick Chopin as 

a Man and Musician, 3rd edn (London: Novello). 

Philipp, Isidore, 1927: Quelques considérations sur 

l'enseignement du piano (Paris: A. Durand et fils). 

Pleasants, Henry, 1965. The Musical World of Robert 

Schumann (London: Gollancz). 

Samson, Jim, 1985. The Music of Chopin (London: 

Routledge and Kegan Paul). 

Chopin at 200

Adrian Thomas 


19 January 2010 

Echoes of Poland 

Adrian Thomas 

Theme 

The mazurka and polonaise have come to 

symbolise Polishness not only in Poland but 

abroad, whether written by exiled Poles or 

foreign composers. This talk looks in 

parti-cularatthecharacterandlocationof 

mazurkas in nineteenth- and twentiethcentury 

music. 


The land which gave him life with its song 

affected his musical disposition. … many a 

note of his music sounds like a happy 

reflection of our native harmony. In his hands 

the simple mazur willingly yields to 

alterations and modulations yet preserves its 

own accent and expression. In order, as 

Chopin did, to include the beautiful simplicity 

of native song in his refined compositions 

of genius he had to feel and to 

recognise the echoes of our fields and forests, 

to hear the song of our Polish villages. 

(Wojciech Grzymała, Kurier Polski, 18 March 

1830; cited in Samson, 1992, 209) 

Here, waltzes are called works! … I don’t 

pick up anything that is essentially Viennese. 

I don’t even know how to dance a waltz 

properly. … My piano has heard only mazury. 

(Fryderyk Chopin, letters, Vienna, 1831; cited 

in Samson, 1992, 153) 

From time to time you hear through the 

window opening onto the garden strains of 

Chopin’s music, blending with the 

nightingales and the scent of the roses. 

(Eugène Delacroix, letter, 1842; cited in 

Samson, 1996, 199) 

I spent three months in London and was in 

fairly good health. I gave two matinéeconcerts, 

one at Mrs. Sartori’s and the other 

at Lord Falmouth’s – both with great success 

… At the second Mme Viardot sang three 

groups [including some mazurkas] and I 

played four [including the Scherzo Op. 31, 

mazurkas and a ballade]. They liked that very 

much, for they had never heard such short 

and compact concerts here. They are only 

used to long affairs with twenty different 

items ... (Chopin, letter to Warsaw from 

Edinburgh, 10–19 August 1848; in Hedley, 

1962, 331) 

Polish national music is not the coagulated 

spectre of a polonaise or mazurka ... rather 

the solitary, happy, carefree song of a nightingale 

in the middle of a fragrant Polish May 

night. (Karol Szymanowski, ‘On Contemporary 

Musical Opinion in Poland’, 1920) 

Texts 

The traditional folk ensemble of central 

Poland consisted of a melody instrument (the 

violin played in first position on the upper 

strings, or the fujarka, a high-pitched 

shepherd’s pipe) plus an instrument or two to 

provide a drone (lower open strings on the 

violin, or the dudy or gajdy, a Polish bagpipe), 

and/or a rhythmic pulse (the basetla or basy, 

a string bass played unstopped). (Thomas, 

1992, 154) 

For many years [Szymanowski] had felt that 

to write piano mazurkas which were not 

simply cheap imitations of Chopin’s 

masterpieces would be impossible. … The 

most important new ingredient was of course 

the Góral music of the Tatras, bringing to the 

mazurka a breath of sharp, bracing mountain 

air and transforming the Chopin form whose 

folkloristic inspiration lay essentially in the 

plains of the central Mazovia region of 

Poland. (Samson, 1981, 169) 

Poetic texts (in free verse) 

Włodzimierz Wolski, ‘Fryderyk Chopin. Fantasia’ (excerpt, 1859) 

The garland starts with mazurkas, Her girlfriends invite her to the dance, 

Apparently coquettish, 

And though there’s the will to dance, 

Fine, light and strange, 

The girl’s face inclines sadly, 

And so sad, and so sad … 

For how is it possible for an orphan to dance 

Like the girl who continues to expect Suddenly someone’s arriving on a dun … 

Her brother from the war, The girl runs, claps her hands – 

And with tears plaits her hair, 

A stranger is leading the horse, 

And with tears sings her songs – 

For her brother has died in the war, 

Sad, sad are these mazurkas! 

Cyprian Kamil Norwid, ‘Chopin’s Piano’, iv (1865) 

And in what the note played – and said – and will say, 

Although the echoes will differently be arrayed 

Than when you yourself blessed with your Own hand each chord – 

And in what the note played, such was the simplicity of Periclean perfection, 

As if some Virtue from antiquity, stepping into a rustic wooden dwelling, 

Said to herself: I have been reborn in heaven; 

And the doorway has become my harp, the footpath my ribbon … 

Kazimierz Tetmajer, ‘Chopin’s Mazurek’ (1910) 

A young lady, a young lady 

I have a perfect method: 

Combs her golden hair, 

I shall smile first, 

She sings to herself: whoever I want Then I will give a kiss, and then 

I shall lead by the nose! 

What the lake-nymph does to the lad. 

And so on, and so on … 

Who can resist me 

It’s true – they called me bad names, 

But was I the only one … 

Leopold Staff, ‘Townie’ (1937) ‘In jest. Nonsense’ (1949) 

I don’t like peasant music, 

Never with a more enchanting song 

With its boisterous refrain. 

Was Odysseus lured by the Siren: 

Its wild rhythm terrifies me: 

If violets and lilies of the valley 

I am afraid of becoming Chopin. 

Instead of being fragrant knew how to play, 

It would be the music of Chopin. 

References 

Hedley, Arthur (ed.), 1962. Selected Correspondence 

of Fryderyk Chopin (London: Heinemann). 

Samson, Jim, 1981. The Music of Szymanowski 

(London: Kahn & Averill). 

Samson, Jim (ed.), 1992. The Cambridge Companion 

to Chopin (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press). 

Samson, Jim, 1996. Master Musicians Chopin 

(Oxford: Oxford University Press). 

Thomas, Adrian, 1992. ‘Beyond the dance’, in 

Samson 1992, pp. 145–59. 

Wightman, Alistair, 1999a. Karol Szymanowski. His 

Life and Work (Aldershot: Ashgate). 

Wightman, Alistair (ed.), 1999b. Szymanowski on 

Music. Selected Writings (London: Toccata Press). 

Chopin at200

John Rink 


22 February 2010 

The Classical Romantic 

John Rink 

Theme 

This talk explores some of the issues 

surrounding two of Chopin’s most 

significant works, the Sonatas in B-flat 

minor Op. 35 and B minor Op. 58. The 

expressive depth and breadth of these 

masterpieces are described with reference 

to diverse elements within Chopin’s 

musical language. 

Quotations and other texts 

[Op. 35] Anyone glancing at the first bars 

of this sonata and uncertain of its author 

would not prove himself a good 

connoisseur. Only Chopin begins and ends 

in this way: with dissonances through 

dissonances into dissonances. But how 

many beauties, too, does this piece 

contain! The idea of calling it a sonata is 

a caprice, if not a jest, for he has simply 

bound together four of his most reckless 

children; thus under his name smuggling 

them into a place into which they could 

not else have penetrated… (Schumann, 

[1841] 1946, 140) 

[Op. 35] This sonata … has five flats for 

[a key] signature and is in B-flat minor, a 

key that certainly cannot boast of special 

popularity. … [Its] thoroughly 

Chopinesque beginning is followed by one 

of those stormy, passionate movements 

with which Chopin al ready has acquainted 

us. This must be heard often and well 

performed. But even the first part of the 

work brings us a beautiful cantilena; 

indeed, it seems as if the national Polish 

flavour, which clung to most of Chopin’s 

earlier melodies, were dwindling, and that 

he now sometimes leans toward Italy via 

Germany. … [Yet] the whole movement 

ends in a manner by no means Italian; 

and this reminds me of a remark once 

made by Liszt: ‘Rossini and Co. always 

close with “I remain your very humble 

servant.”’ But it is otherwise with Chopin 

whose endings express just the reverse. 

The second movement is merely the 

continuation of this mood; it is bold, 

spirited, fantastic; the trio tender, dreamy, 

entirely in Chopin’s manner; like many of 

Beethoven’s, it is a scherzo only in name. 

There follows a still more gloomy Marcia 

funebre which is re pellent; in its place an 

adagio, perhaps in D-flat, would cer tainly 

have been more effective. That which in 

the last move ment is given to us under the 

name ‘finale’ resembles mockery more 

than any kind of music. Yet we must 

confess that even from this joyless, 

unmelodious movement an original and 

terri fying spirit breathes on us which 

holds down with mailed fist everything 

that seeks to resist, so that we listen 

fascinated and uncomplaining to the end 

– though not to praise; for this is not 

music. Thus the sonata closes as it began, 

emphatically, like a Sphinx with an ironic 

smile. (Schumann, [1841] 1946, 141–42) 

Among the works she studied with him, 

Mme [Marie] Roubaud cited … the Sonata 

in B minor, whose Largo, when he once 

played it to her, had his pupil in tears. 

(Ganche, 1925, cited in Eigeldinger, 1986, 

61) 

The eighteenth-century conception of 

recapitulation as resolution sometimes 

disappears. The second theme of Chopin’s 

Concerto No. 2 in F minor, first movement, 

is never played in the tonic at all, while 

the second group of Chopin’s Concerto No. 

1 in E minor is played in the exposition in 

the tonic major (!), and recapitulated in 

the mediant. Chopin’s key relations in 

sonata form, however, were more orthodox 

after he left Poland. (The exposition of the 

Sonata in C minor, Op. 4, of 1827 never 

leaves the tonic. Chopin was only sixteen 

when he wrote it, but it is not the kind of 

mistake that Mozart would have made 

when he was six. They evidently did not 

have very clear ideas about sonatas out 

there in Warsaw.) (Rosen, 1980, 319) 

In almost every edition (and consequently 

most performances) of Chopin’s Sonata in 

B-flat major, Op. 35, there is a serious 

error that makes awkward nonsense of an 

important moment in the first movement. 

The repeat of the exposition begins in the 

wrong place. A double bar meant to 

indicate the beginning of a new and faster 

tempo in measure 5 is generally decorated 

on both staves with the two dots that 

indicate the opening of a section to be 

played twice. … [This] mistake was made 

in one of the early editions. … The faulty 

indication is musically impossible: it 

interrupts a triumphant cadence in D-flat 

major with an accompanimental figure in 

B-flat minor, a harmonic effect which is 

not even piquant enough to be interesting, 

and merely sounds perfunctory. The repeat 

is clearly intended to begin with the first 

note of the movement: the opening four 

bars are not a slow introduction but an 

integral part of the exposition. (Rosen, 

1980, 279–80) 

… Hummel’s Sonata for Piano in F-sharp 

minor is … the easily recognisable model 

for Chopin’s Third Sonata in B minor. 

Chopin’s music is largely derived from his 

early experience of opera, the rhythms and 

harmonies of native Polish dances, and 

Bach. The art that held all this together 

came above all from the last, in particular 

the Well-Tempered Keyboard. If he ever 

knew the religious music of Bach, it was 

at a moment too late to be 

of any use to him. In order to disabuse 

ourselves of the impossible image of 

Chopin as an imaginative genius seriously 

limited by a deficient technique, it is with 

the craft that we must start, not the 

genius, even if, in the end, it is the 

genius that we hope to illuminate. 

(Rosen, 1995, 285) 

[Regarding the ‘richness of invention of 

virtuoso figuration’ in Chopin’s ‘latest 

works’]: In the scherzo of the Sonata in B 

minor, Op. 58, the counterpoint is partly 

built into the figuration. The 

accompaniment is almost minimal 

(although not completely devoid of motivic 

interest) because of the complexity of the 

figuration, which realises much of the 

harmony through an implied polyphonic 

structure of three voices. The art is clearly 

related to the monophonic technique of the 

finale of the Sonata in B-flat minor, but 

here it sweeps through all the registers of 

the piano. (Rosen, 1995, 391) 

It seems important to grasp the unique 

shape of this sonata [Op. 35] before any 

considerations of thematic unity are 

broached, particularly as it differs 

importantly from the historical archetype. 

Inevitably Chopin’s model results in a 

slackening of the formal and tonal bonds 

of the classical sonata, and the surface 

motivic and thematic links which abound 

within and between the movements (many 

of them no doubt conscious) have a largely 

compensatory role, quite different from 

their integral function in the organi cism of 

Beethoven and Brahms. Thematic links 

abound, too, in the B minor Sonata Op. 58, 

which Chopin completed five years later in 

1844. Yet in this work they have a rather 

different significance. Having come to 

terms with the four-movement sonata in 

Op. 35, approaching it obliquely by way of 

his unique achievements in the study, 

nocturne and dance piece, Chopin now felt 

able to tackle the genre on its own terms, 


Chopin at 200 

so to speak. The difference in approach is 

clear when we examine the first 

movements of the two works. In the B 

minor the thematic shapes are less selfcontained, 

and their presentation less 

sharply sectional, than in Op. 35. There is 

a gain in organicism (pace Niecks), 

though arguably a loss in the striking, 

distinctive quality of the idea per se. 

Thematic links then are not only a means 

of unifying contrasts as in Op. 35. They 

also contribute to a process of continuous 

development and transformation within 

the bar-by-bar progression of the 

movement, an unbroken thread spun of 

related ideas. The process is supported, 

moreover, by a much closer integration of 

melody and accompaniment than in the 

earlier work. The texture is spare and 

close knit, with intricate motiviccontrapuntal 

play and only fleeting returns 

to an harmonically motivated nocturnestyle 

accompaniment. It is a view of the 

sonata which accords well with general 

tendencies in Chopin’s later music. 

(Samson, 1985, 133) 

References 


Teacher as seen by his Pupils, trans. Naomi Shohet 

with Krysia Osostowicz and Roy Howat, ed. Roy Howat 

(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press). 

Rosen, Charles, 1980. Sonata Forms (New York: Norton). 

Rosen, Charles, 1995. The Romantic Generation 

(Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press). 

Samson, Jim, 1985. The Music of Chopin (London: 

Routledge and Kegan Paul). 

Schumann, Robert, 1946: On Music and Musicians, 

ed. Konrad Wolff, trans. Paul Rosenfeld (New York: 

Pantheon). 

25 March 2010 

The Spirit of Improvisation 

Jim Samson 

Theme 

Several of the genres represented in this 

concert signal the practice of improvisation 

(impromptu; fantasy; ballade). This talk 

explores the relationship between 

improvisation and composition in the world 

of early nineteenth-century pianism. 


When he embellished it was a positive 

miracle of refinement. (Wilhelm von Lenz, 

1872) 

[The Preludes] sound like impromptu improvisations 

produced without the slightest 

effort. They have the freedom and charm of 

works of genius. (Franz Liszt, 1852) 

The music [of the impromptus] should 

appear in some way to be born under the 

fingers of the performer. (Alfred Cortot, 1943) 

With all the freedom of an improvisation the 

Chopin Impromptu has a well-defined form. 

There is a structural impulse although the 

patterns are free and original. (James 

Huneker, 1900) 

This Impromptu [Op. 29] has quite the air 

of a spontaneous unconstrained 

outpouring. (Frederick Niecks, 1902) 

If a well-written composition can be 

compared with a noble architectural edifice 

in which symmetry must predominate, then 

a fantasy well done is akin to a beautiful 

English garden, seemingly irregular, but full 

of surprising variety, and executed 

rationally, meaningfully, and according to 

plan. (Carl Czerny, 1829) 

In these Ballades we reach again one of 

those solitary peaks of piano literature in 

which improvisatorial invention and artistic 

construction meet again in a higher unity. 

(Oscar Bie, 1900) 

[The Fourth Ballade is] a stylised improvisation 

full of genius. (Alfred Cortot, 1951) 

[Chopin’s] long sinuous phrases, so free, so 

flexible, so tactile, which begin by reaching 

out and exploring far beyond the point 

which one might have expected their notes 

to reach, and which divert themselves in 

those byways of fantasy, only to return more 

deliberately – with a more premeditated 

reprise, with more precision, as on a crystal 

bowl that reverberates to the point of 

making you cry out – to strike at your heart. 

(Marcel Proust, 1913–27) 

The whole must be discovered through 

improvisation if the piece is to be more 

than a collection of individual parts and 

motives in the sense of a schema. (Heinrich 

Schenker, 1926) 

Musical form is something coming-intobeing 

… at every time newly coming into 

being, and never except in the finished 

artwork itself something at hand, that can 

be transmitted and further utilized. (Arnold 

Schoenberg, undated) 

Texts 

From his earliest youth, the richness of his 

improvisation was astonishing. But he took 

good care not to parade it; and the few 

lucky ones who have heard him improvising 

for hours on end, in a most wonderful 

manner, never lifting a single phrase from 

any other composer, never even touching on 

Jim Samson 



any of his own works – those people will 

agree with us in saying that Chopin’s most 

beautiful finished compositions are merely 

reflections and echoes of his 

improvisations. (Julian Fontana, cited in 

Eigeldinger, 1986, 282) 

For the Fantasy … it would at first seem 

easy enough to construct a fairly convincing, 

though inevitably trite, programme – 

probably something along the lines of Les 

Préludes or Tod und Verklärung. After all, 

Chopin himself calls the opening section a 

‘march’, and it is clearly a march of solemn 

– even funereal – character. The subsequent 

course of the piece – the struggle between 

the two keys, the victory of A-flat, the 

celebration of that victory in a march-like 

episode of triumphal character – is almost 

impossible to describe except in metaphors 

that come close to suggesting a 

programme. But the Fantasy mocks at any 

attempt to force its musical narrative – 

fraught though it is with human feeling – 

into a story of victory over death or tragedy 

and triumph. For in the end there is neither 

tragedy nor triumph, but only the 

unfathomable magic of a dream. 

(Schachter, 1988, 253). 

In this piece the force-field between genre 

and style has subverted structure. Or to put 

that a little less synoptically, … generic 

constraints were loosened under the impact 

of stylistic experiment, and … the resulting 

uncertainty threatened structural coherence. 

The F-sharp Impromptu is very far from 

perfect then. But perfection isn’t everything. 

As Schoenberg once remarked, ‘Even God’s 

works of art, those of Nature, are highly 

imperfect. Perfection’, he went on, ‘can only 

be found in the works of joiners, gardeners, 

pastrycooks and hairdressers’. Op. 36 may 

be the least stable of the four impromptus 

as to genre, style and structure. It is also 

the most interesting. (Samson, 1990, 304). 

By different combinations of means, all four 

Ballades gain gradually in momentum from 

beginning to end. This effect of 

continuously increasing pace – which helps 

give the impression of a ballad story being 

carried irresistibly from its act of defiance 

to its reckoning – is a far rarer effect in 

music, whether by Chopin or anyone else, 

than that of a single, abrupt increase of 

momentum, as at a finale or coda or final 

variation. Ever-increasing momentum is a 

far more distinctive feature of Chopin’s 

Ballades than that more obvious rhythmic 

feature, the sextuple meter that is common 

to all of them. (Parakilas, 1992, 54). 

References 

Bach, C. P. E., 1949. Essay on the True Art of 

Playing Keyboard Instruments, trans. W. J. Mitchell 

(New York: Norton). 

Czerny, Carl, 1983. A Systematic Introduction to 

Improvisation on the Pianoforte, trans. A. L. 

Mitchell (New York: Longman). 

Eigeldinger, Jean-Jacques, 1986. Chopin: Pianist 

and Teacher as seen by his Pupils, trans. Naomi 

Shohet with Krysia Osostowicz and Roy Howat, ed. 

Roy Howat (Cambridge: Cambridge University 

Press). 

Parakilas, James, 1992. Ballads Without Words: 

Chopin and the Tradition of the Instrumental 

Ballade (Portland, Oregon: Amadeus Press). 

Samson, Jim, 1990. ‘Chopin’s F-sharp Impromptu: 

notes on genre, style and structure’, Chopin 

Studies 3, pp. 297–305. 

Samson, Jim, 1992. Chopin: The Four Ballades 


Schachter, Carl, 1988. ‘Chopin’s Fantasy Op. 49: 

the two-key scheme’, in J. Samson (ed.), Chopin 

Studies (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press), 

pp. 221–53. 

14 April 2010 

Virtuosity Redefined 

John Rink 

Theme 

This talk describes Chopin’s unique 

virtuosity, examining three aspects in 

particular: keyboard technique, pianistic 

figuration, and musical expression. 


In Herr Friedrich Chopin we have a pianist of 

the highest order. His delicate touch, his 

effortless execution, his masterly tempi and 

nuances, exhibit the most profound feeling, 

while the clarity of his performance and the 

genius of his compositions are the marks of 

a naturally endowed virtuoso. He has 

appeared as one of the brightest meteors on 

the musical horizon through his genius 

alone... (Der Sammler, Vienna, 29 August 

1829, after Chopin’s performance on 18 

August of his Variations on Là ci darem la 

mano and Rondo à la krakowiak; trans. from 

Atwood, 1987, 202) 

[Chopin] is a young man who pursues his 

own path and does so in a charming 

manner. His style and method, both in 

playing and in composing, however, deviate 

from the usually accepted pattern of other 

virtuosos. Where he differs is mainly in this: 

the desire to produce good music is 

obviously more important to him than the 

mere urge to please his audience. Despite 

this Herr Chopin succeeded in pleasing 

everyone today. (Allgemeine Theaterzeitung, 

Vienna, 1 September 1829, after Chopin’s 

performance on 18 August 1829 – see 

above; trans. from Atwood, 1987, 204) 

The performance was entirely in keeping 

with the spirit of the composition. Never did 

the pianist try to exploit the technical 

difficulties, the bravura passages, or the 

tender, lyrical melodies in order to shine at 

the expense of the overall musical effect... 

His playing seemed to say to the listener: 

‘This is not me; this is music!’ (Powszechny 

Dziennik Krajowy, Warsaw, 19 March 1830 

after Chopin’s Warsaw debut of the F minor 

Concerto on 17 March; trans. from Atwood 

1987, 209) 

The pianist must be first tenor, first soprano, 

always a singer, a bravura singer in the 

rapid figuration. Chopin wanted all the 

passagework to be fashioned in a cantabile 

style… He played us the themes 

indescribably beautifully and the figuration 

suggestively. He wanted the passagework 

cantabile, with a certain amount of volume 

and bravura, with each thematic element 

brought out, with the utmost delicacy of 

touch, even when there are mere runs – 

which is seldom the case. (Wilhelm von Lenz 

describing a performance of the first 

movement of the E minor Concerto by 

Chopin and his pupil Carl Filtsch; trans. 

from Rink, 2008, v) 

[Op. 25 No. 3] Here the concern was more 

with bravura, but of the most pleasant kind, 

and in this respect too Chopin deserved the 

highest praise. (Schumann, 1837; cited in 

Eigeldinger, 1986, 70) 

… I received a few days ago a ten-page 

review [of the Variations on Là ci darem la 

mano Op. 2] from a German in Cassel who 

is full of enthusiasm for them. After a longwinded 

preface he proceeds to analyse them 

bar by bar, explaining that they are not 

ordinary variations but a fantastic tableau. 

In the second variation he says that Don 

Giovanni runs round with Leporello; in the 

John Rink 



third he kisses Zerlina while Masetto’s rage 

is pictured in the left hand – and in the fifth 

bar of the Adagio he declares that Don 

Giovanni kisses Zerlina on the D-flat. 

(Chopin in a letter to Tytus Wojciechowski, 

December 1831; trans. Hedley, 1962, 99) 

Texts 

For Chopin, the goal of technical study 

should not be to achieve the equal sound 

advocated by many of his contemporaries: 

each finger has a unique conformation, he 

says, and one should not ‘destroy the charm 

of [its] special touch, but on the contrary 

[aim] to develop it’. Acknowledging 

Hummel’s expertise in matters of fingering, 

he writes that ‘there are as many different 

sounds as fingers – the essential thing is to 

know how to finger well’, in other words to 

exploit the natural strengths and 

compensate for the innate weaknesses of 

each finger. For instance, the third finger is 

the midpoint of the hand and a pivotal point 

of support (point d’appui)... [A]ccording to 

Chopin, not only the fingers but the rest of 

the hand, the wrist, the forearm and, to 

some extent, the entire arm should be 

employed, although with the utmost 

economy of gesture. In this regard Chopin’s 

teaching once again radically differed from 

that of Kalkbrenner, who taught students to 

play from the wrist, a technique almost 

guaranteed to stiffen the hand and to 

strangle the sound. (Rink, 2004, 34–5) 

For Chopin, in contrast, the music breathed 

through the wrist, as suggested by his 

evocative epithet ‘Le poignet [:] la 

respiration dans la voix.’ This recalls the 

account of Emilie von Gretsch, who reported 

her teacher’s injunction to imitate the ‘great 

singers in one’s playing’: ‘At every point 

where a singer would take a breath, the 

accomplished pianist ... should take care to 

raise the wrist so as to let it fall again on 

the singing note with the greatest 

suppleness imaginable’. In Chopin’s words, 

‘la main souple; le poignet, l’avant-bras, le 

bras, tout suivra la main selon l’ordre [if the 

hand is relaxed, the wrist, forearm, arm – 

everything will follow the hand in the right 

way]’. (Rink, 2004, 35) 

[Allegro de concert Op. 46] While its 

compositional genesis remains obscure, the 

finished work’s potential effect on listeners 

is perfectly obvious, generated by such 

devices as powerful octaves, ‘risky skips’ 

and ‘dangerous double notes’ [quoting 

Huneker] – all of which reflect a more 

virtuosic keyboard technique than that 

required by Chopin’s other music, including 

the two concertos. Some of these features 

may simply have resulted from his writing a 

third virtuoso concerto – moreover, a 

virtuoso concerto in a major key, which 

necessarily engaged a musical vocabulary 

inappropriate for use in a minor-key work 

like Op. 11 or Op. 21. (Rink, 1997, 98) 

References 

Atwood, William G., 1987. Fryderyk Chopin: Pianist from 

Warsaw (New York: Columbia University Press). 

Hedley, Arthur (ed.), 1962. Selected Correspondence of 

Fryderyk Chopin (London: Heinemann). 


Teacher as seen by his Pupils, trans. Naomi Shohet with 

Krysia Osostowicz and Roy Howat, ed. Roy Howat 


Rink, John, 1994. ‘Authentic Chopin: history, analysis and 

intuition in performance’, in John Rink and Jim Samson 

(eds.), Chopin Studies 2 (Cambridge: Cambridge 

University Press), pp. 214–44. 

Rink, John, 1997. Chopin: The Piano Concertos 


Rink, John, 2004. ‘Chopin and the technique of 

performance’, in Artur Szklener (ed.), Chopin in 

Performance: History, Theory, Practice (Warsaw: NIFC), pp. 

225–38. 

Rink, John (ed.), 2008. Fryderyk Chopin, Concerto in E 

minor Op. 11, The Complete Chopin – A New Critical 

Edition (London: Peters Edition). 

Samson, Jim, 1996.: Master Musicians Chopin (Oxford: 

Oxford University Press) 

Wangermée, Robert, 1970. ‘Tradition et innovation dans la 

virtuosité romantique’, Acta musicologica 42, pp. 5–32. 

29 April 2010 

Music in Sound 

Roy Howat 

Theme 

Chopin wrote no operas and no symphonies, 

yet no composer has marked musical 

posterity more strongly than he did. His 

influence, unusually, worked not just 

through his compositions but through his 

extraordinarily tactile relationship to the 

piano, both as composer and as performer, 

matched by a suppleness of thought and 

gesture that pervaded all aspects of his 

thinking. In this manner he transformed the 

piano into an instrument for an 

unprecedented sort of symphonic plasticity, 

inventing new forms and structures as well 

as leaving a revolutionary technical and 

interpretative legacy. Through his piano 

pupils and colleagues this tradition directly 

reached and influenced Bizet, Chabrier, 

Fauré, Debussy, Dukas, Satie, Ravel, 

Albéniz and Falla. 

Quotations and other texts 

Antoine Marmontel (the piano teacher 

of Bizet, Albéniz and Debussy): 

If we draw a parallel between Chopin’s sound 

effects and certain techniques of painting, 

we could say that this great virtuoso 

modulated sound much as skilled painters 

treat light and atmosphere. To envelop 

melodic phrases and ingenious arabesques 

in a half-tint which has something of both 

dream and reality: this is the pinnacle of art; 

and this was Chopin’s art. 

Chopin as a piano teacher: 

Have the body supple right to the tips 

of the toes. 

Let your hands fall [said Chopin to a pupil, 

who then adds, ‘Hitherto I had been 

accustomed to hear “Put down your hands” 

or “Strike” such a note. This letting fall was 

to me a new idea, and in a moment I felt 

the difference.’]. 

[Chopin] repeated, without ceasing, during 

the lesson, ‘facilement, facilement’ [easily, 

easily]. 

He required adherence to the strictest 

rhythm, hated all lingering and dragging, 

misplaced rubatos, as well as exaggerated 

ritardandos. 

Debussy in relation to Chopin 

(as related by Marguerite Long): 

‘Chopin is the greatest of them all’, 

[Debussy] used to say, ‘for through the 

piano alone he discovered everything …’ 

Chopin, above all, was a subject [Debussy] 

never tired of. He was impregnated, 

almost inhabited, by [Chopin’s] pianism. 

His own playing was an exploration of all 

he felt were the procedures of that master 

to us all … 

[Debussy] played nearly always in halftints, 

but with a full, intense sonority 

without any hardness of attack, like Chopin. 

Intensely preoccupied with Chopin’s 

manner of playing and phrasing, [Debussy] 

used to say he wore down his fingers on the 

Polish master’s posthumous A-flat Etude 

[from the Trois Nouvelles Etudes]. 

Ravel on Chopin (in an article published 

on 1 January 1910): 

Chopin was not satisfied merely to 

transform pianistic technique. His inspired 

passage work may be observed amid 

Roy Howat 



brilliant, exquisite and profound harmonic 

progressions. There is always hidden 

meaning, often conveyed by an intense 

poem of despair. 

References 


Teacher as seen by his Pupils, trans. Naomi Shohet with 

Krysia Osostowicz and Roy Howat, ed. Roy Howat 


Howat, Roy, 2009. The Art of French Piano Music: Debussy, 

Ravel, Fauré, Chabrier. London: Yale University Press. 

(Chapter 6 is devoted to Chopin’s influence on these 

composers; Chapters 19–21 deal with related aspects of 

their playing and piano writing.) 

Marmontel, Antoine, 1878. Les pianistes célèbres 

(Paris: Heugel). 

Long, Marguerite, [1960] 1972. At the piano with 

Debussy, trans. Olive Senior-Ellis (London: Dent). 

Orenstein, Arbie (compiled and ed.), 1990. A Ravel 

Reader: Correspondence, Articles, Interviews (New York: 

Columbia University Press). 

Samson, Jim, (ed.), 1992. The Cambridge Companion to 

Chopin (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press). 

Discography 

Perlemuter, Vlado: Chopin, Piano Works; 

Fauré, Piano Music; Ravel, Piano Works. 

Nimbus Records, NI 1764, 5165 & NI 

7713/4. 

Claude Debussy: The Composer as Pianist: 

All his Known Recordings and Maurice 

Ravel: The Composer as Pianist and 

Conductor: All of his Known Recordings. 

Pierian 0001 & 0013: The Caswell 

Collection, volumes 1 & 4 (2000 & 2002). 

Howat, Roy: Debussy: The Complete Solo 

Piano Music (four CDs, including two first 

recordings). Tall Poppies TP094, 123, 164 & 

165 (1997–2002). 

Howat, Roy, with Emily Kilpatrick: A Portrait 

of Gabriel Fauré (two CDs). ABC Classics, 

476 3423 (2009). 

Other recommended reading, 

listening and surfing 

Lesure, François, Denis Herlin and Georges 

Liébert, 2005. Claude Debussy, 

correspondance (1872–1918) (Paris: 

Gallimard). 

Duchen, Jessica, 2000. Gabriel Fauré 

(London: Phaidon). 

Lockspeiser, Edward, [1962] 1978. Debussy, 

his Life and Mind, 2 vols. (Cambridge: 

Cambridge University Press). 

Perlemuter, Vlado and Hélène Jourdan- 

Morhange, 1990. Ravel according to Ravel, 

trans. Frances Tanner, ed. Harold Taylor 

(London: Kahn & Averill). 

Poulenc, Francis, 1991. Echo and Source. 

Selected Correspondence 1915–1963, 

trans. and ed. Sidney Buckland (London, 

Gollancz). 

Chopin Resource Guide 

Further information can be obtained from 

the following resources, which represent 

only the tip of the iceberg of available 

material on Chopin. 

The Complete Chopin – A New Critical 

Edition (www.editionpeters.com) 

A browse through Józef Chomiński and 

Dalila Turło’s monumental Catalogue of the 

Works of Frederick Chopin (1990) might 

lead one to ask whether the world needs 

another Chopin edition. The simple answer 

is ‘Yes – and the sooner the better!’ Since 

the composer’s death in 1849, hundreds of 

editions have appeared on the market – 

each a product of its time and often 

reflecting the editor’s tastes more than 

Chopin’s. The various editions currently 

available (including the ubiquitous but 

notoriously unreliable Paderewski edition) 

differ greatly in quality and price – though 

none could claim to be ‘the last word’ on 

Chopin. Not that there could ever be a ‘last 

word’, partly because the composer himself 

continually heard and notated his music in 

new and different ways, a fact which poses 

particular challenges to the modern editor. 

The Complete Chopin – A New Critical 

Edition, published by Peters Edition in 

London, is the latest to appear. Under the 

general editorship of John Rink, Jim Samson 

and Jean-Jacques Eigeldinger, and drawing 

upon the further expertise of Christophe 

Grabowski as Source Consultant, The 

Complete Chopin is based on an editorial 

philosophy different from that of any 

previous edition. First of all, there can never 

be a single ‘fixed’ version of Chopin: the 

variants that flowed from his pen form an 

integral part of the music as he conceived 

it. Second, the typical approach of editors – 

to freely combine passages from several 

sources, thereby producing a version of the 

music that never existed in Chopin’s day – 

should be avoided at all cost. Accordingly, 

the procedure in The Complete Chopin is to 

identify a single principal source for each 

work and to prepare an edition of that 

source (which the editors regard as ‘best’, 

even if it cannot be definitive). At the same 

time, volumes in The Complete Chopin 

reproduce important variants from other 

authorised sources either next to the main 

music text or in the Critical Commentary, 

thus enabling comparison and facilitating 

choice in performance – in the spirit of 

Chopin’s improvisations. Multiple versions 

of whole works are offered when differences 

between the sources are so significant that 

they go beyond the category of variant. 

Annotated Catalogue of Chopin’s First 

Editions (www.cambridge.org/Chopin) 

Co-authored by Christophe Grabowski and 

John Rink, the Annotated Catalogue of 

Chopin’s First Editions presents the most 

ambitious and comprehensive research 

ever carried out on the first editions of 

Chopin’s music. It begins with an in-depth 

introduction to these unique sources and 

the publishing practices that gave rise to 

them. A detailed description then follows of 

each Chopin first edition and the later 

impressions produced by the original 

publishers or their successors. The 

Annotated Catalogue facilitates 

identification of the Chopin scores held 

in libraries and private collections around 

the world by attempting to reconstruct the 

creative history of each edition. It features 

entries on 1,552 distinct impressions – of 

which some 4,830 copies are individually 

described – along with explanatory essays, 

appendices and facsimiles of over 200 title 

pages which illustrate their respective 

catalogue entries. Musicians and 

musicologists alike will gain unprecedented 

insight into the creative history of each 

Chopin edition and the music within it. The 

Annotated Catalogue will be published by 

Cambridge University Press in January 2010. 

Chopin’s First Editions Online 

(www.cfeo.org.uk) 

Chopin’s First Editions Online (CFEO) was 

funded by the Arts and Humanities 

Research Council (Resource Enhancement 

Programme) from March 2004 to August 

2007. The project’s chief aim was to create 



an online resource uniting all of the first 

impressions of Chopin’s first editions in an 

unprecedented virtual collection, thereby 

providing direct access to musicians and 

musicologists to some of the most 

important primary source materials 

relevant to the composer’s music. The 

c. 5,500 digital images in the CFEO archive 

were obtained from five lead institutions 

(Bibliothèque Nationale de France, Bodleian 

Library, British Library, Narodowy Instytut 

Fryderyka Chopina and the University of 

Chicago Library) and seventeen other 

libraries. The full score of each first 

impression appears along with commentary 

on particularly significant textual features. 

In addition, there are excerpts from the 

Annotated Catalogue of Chopin’s First 

Editions. The CFEO resource is free of 

charge and without parallel in either print 

or digital form. 

Chopin’s Early Editions 

(http://chopin.lib.uchicago.edu) 

The Chopin collection at the University of 

Chicago Library includes over 400 first and 

early printed editions of musical 

compositions by Chopin, maintained in 

the Special Collections Research Center. 

Because Chopin’s works were often 

published concurrently in several countries 

with variant texts, users can establish 

a sequence of publication by comparing 

a range of printings. 

Chopin Early Editions presents digitised 

images of all scores in the University of 

Chicago Library’s Chopin collection. Users 

can search or browse the collection via a 

variety of data points, including titles, 

genres, and plate numbers. A detailed 

description of the collection has been 

published by George W. Platzman in A 

Descriptive Catalogue of Early Editions of 

the Works of Frédéric Chopin in the 

University of Chicago Library, 2nd edition 

(Chicago: University of Chicago Library, 

2003). 

Narodowy Instytut Fryderyka Chopina 

(www.nifc.pl) 

The Chopin Information Centre run by the 

Warsaw-based Narodowy Instytut Fryderyka 

Chopina (Fryderyk Chopin Institute) 

provides the following resources among 

others: biography, bibliography, 

discography, filmography, searchable 

database of Chopin’s letters (in their 

original language versions), information 

about manuscripts and first editions, and 

guide to ‘Chopin in the Internet’. 

Chopin at 200 IPS 

Pre-Concert Talks Booklet 

produced by Peters Edition Ltd, 

with thanks to Professor John Rink. 

Inside page design and layout 

by www.adamhaystudio.com 

The Complete Chopin: 

A New Critical Edition 

Series Editors: John Rink, 

Jim Samson, Jean-Jacques 

Eigeldinger 

Editorial Consultant: Christophe Grabowski 

“Edition Peters continues 

to inspire and enlighten… 

So far they appear incapable 

of putting a single foot out 

of place in the veritable 

minefield of complexities 

that is Chopin.” 

Murray McLachlan, 

International Piano Magazine. 

For more details and to 

view the scores online, visit: 

www.editionpeters.com/chopin2010 

URTEXT 

Waltzes, complete 

(Editor: Christophe Grabowski) 

EP 7575 £11.00 

ISMN: M-57708-557-9 

Ballades, Opp.23, 38, 47, 52 

(Editor: Jim Samson) 

EP 7531 £11.00 

ISMN: M-57708-258-5 

URTEXT 

Préludes, Opp.28, 45 

(Editor: Jean-Jacques Eigeldinger) 

EP 7532 £9.95 

ISMN: M-57708-468-8 

Piano Concerto No. 1 in 

URTEXT 

E minor Op.11 

(Editor: John Rink) 

EP 7529 £13.95 

ISMN: M-57708-256-1 

URTEXT

Chopin at 200 - SBC Talks Booklet - Edition Peters

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