The Music of Poetry

by Georg Predota, Interlude

Frédéric Chopin was not only one of the greatest pianists the world had ever known, he also left us the finest body of music for his instrument. The so-called “poet of the piano” left us with nearly 250 fabulous works, including sonatas, nocturnes, études, concertos, and more. As a composer primarily associated with the piano, it is not surprising that his songs have often been overlooked. As a musicologist writes, “In them, the piano shares the spotlight with the singer, yet they possess the same combination of delicacy, power, and beauty as his greatest works.” One more reason it seems to take a look at these neglected miniatures.

Publication History

Frédéric Chopin

Chopin actually did not approve for his songs to be published at all. Juliusz Fontana, the composer’s friend and later the editor of the songs, mentioned that in Paris, at emigrant evenings, Chopin “in the moments of hearty frankness would recite them with intonation and accompaniment of the piano, with a book of poetry in front of him, postponing the moment of writing them down.”

Chopin did extemporize his songs at various times, from possibly as early as 1827 when he was 17, to 1847, two years before his death. All but one of the texts is based on original poems by Polish contemporaries, many of whom Chopin personally knew. As only two of them were published in his lifetime, Chopin’s mother and his sister sought to bring them to the public by looking for a suitable publisher. By 1857 the remaining 17 Polish songs had been collected and issued as Chopin’s Opus 74 by the publishing firm of Heinrich Schlesinger. 

Chopin’s Study With Józef Elsner

Józef Elsner

The Polish composer, music teacher, and music theoretician Józef Elsner is probably best known as the principal composition teacher of the young Frédéric Chopin. In his Treatise on Polish Poetry with Regard to Music of 1818, Elsner explored one of the most significant musical issues of his time. That being the creation of national music through the setting of contemporary, and often radical, Polish texts.

As he writes, “Every intelligent, creative person who understands the relationship between music and poetry, and who is connected to one of the other is deeply moved by it, must be aware of the shared perfection of the two arts. The influence of music on poetry, and poetry on music is so important, that one art form cannot be precisely and fully explained without reference to the other.”

The earliest Chopin art song in his Op. 74 collection was published only ten years after the publication of Elsner’s treatise. In fact, Chopin had been interested in art song composition from the time of his earliest studies with Elsner, and in his early group of songs, Chopin adheres strictly to “Elsner’s rules on the accentuation of penultimate syllables in closing phrases and section.” 

If I were the sun in the sky
I wouldn’t shine just on you.
Neither on lakes
nor forests
but on everything;
Oh the times under your window and only for you
If I could only change into the sun.

If I were a bird from that forest
I wouldn’t sing in any foreign country
Neither on lakes
nor forests
but on everything;
Oh the times under your window and only for you
If I could only change into a bird.
(trans. Christopher Lapkowski)

Songs Composed During His Teenage Years in Warsaw

Frédéric Chopin, 1873

During his teenage years in Warsaw, Chopin seemed to have spontaneously composed a number of songs in a local coffee house. He regularly attended with his friends, and “Chopin would simply sit down at the piano and play.” The poet Stefan Witwicki (1801-1847) was part of the Chopin circle, and like the composer, he was interested in the ideals of Polish nationalism. Chopin set eight poems by Witwicki, beginning around 1829 with “Życzenie” (A Maiden’s Wish) and “Gdzie lubi” (Where She Loves).

These songs seemed to have quickly gained popularity and were circulated in copies with added accompaniment, and occasionally with changed lyrics. Chopin stayed in touch with Witwicki after he left the country, and in July 1831 the poet sent a letter to Vienna.

“Dear Mr. Fryderyk, let me remind myself to your memory. I would like to thank you for the songs. Both I and everyone who knows them like them very much and you would admit to yourself that they are very beautiful if you heard them performed by your sister. Your friend Witwicki… If you wanted to write music to another song…” 

Chopin’s early songs feature, for the most part, regular four-measure phrasing subdivided into smaller two-measure units. He rarely employs successive melodic accents within the closing phase, “and his songs can perhaps be best interpreted as a transformation of original folk melody and vernacular text. Such melodies and texts are given new interpretations within the art song framework, particularly in terms of dramatic intent and ornamentation of accented syllables.” And while there are tangible allusions to folksong in Chopin settings, there is no documented evidence to suggest that the composer quoted directly from folk sources. My darling, when in a joyous moment

You begin to chatter and wail and coo,
Such lovely cooing, chattering and wailing
Not wanting to miss a single word,
I dare not interrupt, I dare not respond,
I only wish to listen!

But when the vividness of speech lights your eyes
And rosies the berries more intensely
Pearly teeth shine among corals,
Ah! then I will look boldly in your eyes
I hurry my lips and to do not demand to listen,
Only to kiss!
(trans. Jennifer Gliere)

Poetry by Adam Mickiewicz

Adam Mickiewicz

The Polish-Lithuanian poet Adam Mickiewicz (1798–1855) is regarded as a national poet in Poland, Lithuania and Belarus. A principle figure in Polish Romanticism, he is one of the so-called “Three Bards,” whose work was thought to give perfect expression to Polish nationalism. Chopin and Mickiewicz were close friends, particularly during the years when Chopin lived in Paris. Perhaps their most significant point of convergence was the intensity of their national feelings and the homesickness they both experienced.

Mickiewicz fondly remembered Chopin as “the sweetest figure” he had ever known. According to Robert Schumann, Mickiewicz supposedly inspired Chopin’s piano ballades, but we know with certainty that Chopin set two Mickiewicz poems. These settings are separated by about ten years, with the liltingly beautiful love song “My darling” written in 1837, and the declamatory “Out of my sight” dating from 1827. 

Out of my sight! Leave me I beg you!
Out of my heart! I cannot go against you.
Out of my thoughts! No, that ultimate surrender
Our memories could ever render.

As evening shadows lengthen
And stretch their sad imploring arms,
My face will shine brighter in your mind
The further you are from me.

In every season in places close to our hearts,
Where we have shared laughter, tears and glances,
Always and everywhere shall I be with you,
For everywhere I have left a part of my soul. 

Poetry by Bohdan Zaleski

Bohdan Zaleski

The Polish-Ukrainian poet Bohdan Zaleski (1802-1886) was part of the Mickiewicz circle, and an active member of a number of nationalist organizations, including the Slavonic Society and the Polish Democratic Society. Zaleski was associated with Romanticism and sentimentalism, and his love and reflective lyrics were inspired by folk poetry. Zaleski was a personal friend of Chopin, and his wife was the composer’s piano student between 1843 and 1844. In all, Chopin set four of Zaleski’s poems, and he seems to have been particularly interested in Zaleski’s historical dumkas.

Originating in Ukraine, the dumka was performed by itinerant Cossack bards and centered on historical events, often dealing with military actions. Although the narratives mainly revolve around war, they primarily impart a moral message in which one should conduct oneself properly in relationships with the family, the community, and the church. Chopin’s melody is reminiscent of a bard’s song, and the accompaniment mimics the strokes of the lyre. This is clearly a lyrical lament of a wanderer far from his homeland, a sentiment that Chopin could readily identify with.

My eyes mist over with tears from deep within me,
All around me darkness is gathering;
A dumka wells up and dies on my lips
In silence, ah, in the silence of unhappiness.

What bliss it would be to love and to sing!
Then I would dream in this alien
wilderness as I did at home;
I long to love — and there is no one.
I long to sing — and there is no one to sing to.

Poetry by Wincenty Pol

Wincenty Pol

The Polish poet and geographer Wincenty Pol (1807-1872) fought in the Polish army during the November 1830 Uprising. This armed rebellion in the heartland of partitioned Poland was fought against the Russian Empire. A substantial segment of people from Lithuania, Belarus, and Ukraine joined the uprising, and although the insurgents achieved local successes, a numerically superior Imperial Russian crushed the uprising. Pol published a collection of highly popular poems of the revolt titled “Songs of Janusz.” Apparently, Chopin composed music to ten or twelve of these, but only “Leaves are falling” has survived.  

The leaves are falling from a tree
Which grew to maturity in freedom;
A little field bird sings
From on top of a gravemound.

O Poland,
You have fared badly!
It was all just a dream
And your children are dead.

Your hamlets have been burnt down,
Your towns destroyed,
And in the fields round about
A woman is lamenting.

Everyone left their homes,
Carrying their scythes with them;
Now there is no one left to work,
And the crops are wasting in the fields.

When the young men gathered
Near Warsaw,
It seemed as though the whole of Poland
Would cover herself with glory.

They had the upper hand all winter,
They fought the summer through;
But in the autumn
There were not even enough
adolescents left to continue.

Now the battles are over,
But all was in vain,
For none of our brethren are coming back
To their fields.

Some lie pressed beneath the sod,
Others have been led away captive,
Others are scattered throughout the world
With no home or farmland.

There is no help from heaven
Or from human hands;
The soil is lying waste
And Nature displays her charms for nothing.

The leaves are falling from the tree,
Again they are falling.
Oh, land of Poland!
If those countrymen
Who are dying for you
Had set to work
And carried away their homeland’s soil
A handful at a time,
They would already have built Poland
With their hands.

But distinguishing ourselves by a show of strength
Is nowadays beyond our imagining,
For traitors have proliferated
And the common people are too good-natured.

Chopin’s setting seems very much like a recorded improvisation. Rhapsodic in character, the song mourns the fate of a nation and of a generation rather than individual events. An expressive yet internalized interpretation takes away all of the threatening pathos, replaced with a subdued lament in an elevated mood. 

Importance and Legacy

According to scholars, “Chopin’s songs brought to the European Romantic song repertoire a character and a tone it had lacked before. They brought the simplicity of a first-hand folkloric inspiration, an almost naive, youthful tenderness, a boisterous aplomb, a nostalgic reflection, and finally a deep feeling for one’s country.” For a number of critics, these songs are regarded as artistically unimpressive, and of minor significance in the entire creative work of the composer. To be sure, Chopin himself attached so little meaning to the songs that he never had a single song published. However, he surely wanted his vocal miniatures to fleetingly stir the emotions, to draw a smile or a tear. As such, “read with an understanding of tone and style, sung and played in a natural yet intimate way, they can charm and transform, move and disturb.”

10-year-old pianist plays Chopin’s Fantaisie Impromptu with extraordinary command and poise

 

By Kyle Macdonald

 

Pianist Jeneba Kanneh-Mason is now one of the nation’s finest young musicians. This performance from 2013 gives an incredible insight into her developing talent.

Meet a 10-year-old who was in full command of music, giving a Chopin performance beyond her years.

The Fantaisie-Impromptu is a piece for solo piano at a breathless tempo, with rapid rolling broken chords in the left hand and flowing semi-quavers in the right. Composed in 1834, the fantasy showcases the full virtuosity, poetry and inventiveness of Chopin’s writing.

As fiendish and technical as it is, a talented pianist will have command of the notes. But as with the greatest music performances, it’s the expression, emotion and poetry beyond those notes that hit the heart.

And that’s just what we got from this talented youngster ten years ago. It’s a five-minute window into the musical ability of a prodigy who has already gone on to achieve great things.

The young player is Jeneba Kanneh-Mason, the third youngest of the seven siblings of the Kanneh-Mason family.

It was filmed by her father Stuart Mason for the family’s YouTube channel, which has showcased the almost unbelievable musical talents of the two brothers and five sisters as they have lived and grown with music.

The Kanneh-Mason family react to their very first viral video | Classic FM

“Jeneba plays Chopin with sensitivity and maturity beyond her tender age of only 10,” commented one YouTube user, on this performance. 

“Such technical ability and such emotion,” remarked another.

This video was recorded a few months after the young pianist gained Grade 8 Distinction and won the Nellie Greenhill Memorial Prize from the Associated Board for the highest marks in the Nottingham area.

Jeneba is now aged 20, and is studying at the Royal College of Music, where she holds the Victoria Robey Scholarship and studies piano with Vanessa Latarche.

Her talents now extend to great piano concertos with recent performances including Tchaikovsky, Ravel and Saint-Saëns’ concertos, as well as Florence Price’s Piano Concerto in One Movement with Chineke! Orchestra.

Jeneba was also among the young performers that were showcased at Classic FM’s Rising Stars with Julian Lloyd Webber in 2022. Watch her intoxicating performance of Liszt’s rollicking Hungarian Rhapsody No.2 below.

Jeneba Kanneh-Mason plays Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 | Classic FM’s Rising Stars

That raw talent and sense of poetry in music-making has only grown over a decade. She is a very special musician and one to watch into the future.

Jane Stirling: Why Did This Piano Student Pay for Chopin’s Funeral?

by Emily E. Hogstad, Interlude

Jane Stirling – Frédéric Chopin’s student, patroness, caretaker, manager, and legacy-builder – has always lived in the shadows of her piano teacher. And yet she was an integral part of Chopin’s later life and one of the reasons why his legacy still endures today.

Frédéric Chopin © ClassicFM

Jane Stirling’s Childhood

Jane Wilhelmina Stirling was born 15 July 1804 in Perthshire in central Scotland. She was the daughter of John Stirling of Kippendavie, a wealthy landowner who had property in Scotland and the West Indies, and his wife Mary.

Jane was born into a big family: she had twelve older siblings! Tragically, her mother died when she was a child, and then her father died a few years later. The grieving teenage heiress moved in with her older sister Katharine Erskine, a young and independent widow.

Despite the tragedies of her teenage years, Stirling proved to be a social butterfly. She loved the arts, playing the piano, and going to dances and balls. As the legend goes, over thirty men proposed to her, but she turned them all down because she never fell in love with any of them.

Young Adulthood in Paris

In 1826, when Stirling was twenty-two, her older sister brought her to Paris. The sisters loved the city so much that they began to live part-time in France.

When the time came for Stirling to choose a Parisian piano teacher, she chose Frédéric Chopin, a mutual acquaintance of her former teacher, pianist Lindsay Sloper. Chopin and Stirling became friends. Chopin respected her and her musicianship enough to pass along one of his students to her, and in 1844, she was thrilled to find out that he dedicated two nocturnes to her (the pair in his op. 55). 

At the time, Chopin was in the midst of an unraveling relationship with author George Sand, and he was trying to come to grips with his new lifestyle. Stirling wanted to help. So they came to an unconventional arrangement: Stirling would serve as a kind of agent and business manager to help keep Chopin’s life running smoothly. She even took on arranging his concerts and worked with him on assembling the French-bound volumes of his works.

George Sand’s daughter wrote about Stirling and Erskine:

“During lessons, when you visited the Master you could meet two tall persons, typical Scottish women, skinny, pale, in indefinite age, serious, dressed in black, never smiling. Under this quite gloomy appearance, there were lofty, noble, and devoted hearts.”

Chopin’s Helper

Stirling seems to have been rather omnipotent in Chopin’s life during this time. She saw to all of the details of his famous Salle Pleyel concert in February 1848, down to the temperature of the auditorium and the choice of flowers. He played a Mozart piano trio, his cello sonata, and some relatively undemanding pieces for solo piano. After the concert was done, he staggered backstage to Stirling and collapsed in her arms. It would be his last Paris concert. In March, revolution broke out, and many of Chopin’s aristocratic supporters fled the country.

A couple of months later, Stirling arranged for him to visit London. Chopin dreaded the rigors of traveling, but he needed the money badly, so in the spring of 1848, they set off together. 

Chopin’s Last Tour – And a Proposal?

Chopin’s Pleyel grand piano, 1848 (The Cobbe Collection, UK)

While in London, Chopin ended up keeping three pianos in his room from three different makers. His furious landlord doubled the rent, but Stirling stepped in to cover the cost for him. The social highlight of this English visit came when he performed for Queen Victoria and her husband Prince Albert at a private party.

After the stay in London, he took the train to Edinburgh, per Stirling’s suggestion. He played in Manchester, Glasgow, and Edinburgh. Tickets were expensive – and Jane purchased many of them herself, then gave them away for free. Ominously, while Chopin was in Edinburgh, feeling that he would not live much longer, he drew up a will.

Rumors swirled of an impending engagement between the sick man and his energetic promoter, but Chopin never made a formal offer of marriage. Something about Stirling grew to irritate him – maybe his growing weakness and his increasing dependence on both her and her sister. He wrote things to friends like “A rich woman needs a rich husband” and “They have married me to Miss Stirling; she might as well marry death.” The sisters’ enthusiastic promotion of Protestantism was also proving to be extremely grating.

Chopin’s Death and Its Aftermath

In November 1848, Chopin left the gloomy British Isles to return to Paris. He was deeply in debt, and Stirling quietly paid those debts off. His condition only deteriorated. Over the course of 1849, it became clear that Chopin’s death was imminent. After much suffering, in October he passed away from what is generally believed to have been tuberculosis.

Chopin’s death mask © Wikipedia

After he died, Stirling dressed in mourning black, as if her husband had passed away. She paid the cost of his extravagant funeral at Paris’ famous La Madeleine (although Chopin’s sister Ludwika eventually paid back the cost), and it was attended by thousands. Fearing unscrupulous thieves or souvenir hunters, it is believed by historians that she was likely the anonymous buyer who purchased much of Chopin’s estate, including his famous death mask, to distribute to those who loved him. She also saw that his preserved heart would be brought from Paris to Warsaw.

A portrait she’d commissioned of Chopin by Polish artist Teofil Kwiatkowski turned into a deathbed portrait. Pictured in the portrait is Chopin, dressed in white, and surrounded by the dark-clothed figures of author Aleksander Jełowicki, Chopin’s sister Ludwika, piano student Marcelina Czartoryska, Polish politician Wojciech Grzymała, and the artist. Stirling is nowhere to be found: she’s already slipping into the background of the historical record.

Chopin on His Deathbed, by Kwiatkowski, 1849, commissioned by Jane Stirling.

To mark the first anniversary of his death, Stirling wrote to Ludwika asking for a handful of Polish soil so that she could sprinkle it on Chopin’s grave. The request was granted. In a particularly moving gesture, Stirling paid to have one of Chopin’s pianos shipped to Ludwika, and the two women carried on a considerable correspondence after his death, tending to matters of his legacy.

Intriguingly, according to legend, Chopin told Stirling – and Stirling alone – his true date of birth. She is said to have written it down, placed it in a box, and buried it with him.

Stirling’s Post-Chopin Life and Legacy

Stirling lived for another decade after Chopin’s death and died of an ovarian cyst in 1859. She never married. She left most of Chopin’s estate to his mother. It ended up in a palace in Warsaw, where it was destroyed by Russian troops in 1861.

Jane Stirling may not be nearly as famous as Chopin’s other caretaker figure, George Sand, but she was certainly one of his most faithful friends and one of the people we have to thank today for helping to preserve the rich musical legacy that her friend and teacher left behind.

JAMES LAST Notturno di Chopin ( Lecce)

Chopin: Piano Concerto No. 1 | Martha Argerich, Sinfonia Varsovia Orchestra

2,564,364 views  May 15, 2021  Martha Argerich (piano) plays Frédéric Chopin’s Piano Concerto No. 1 in E minor, Op. 11 with the Sinfonia Varsovia Orchestra, conducted by Jacek Kaspszyk. The concert was performed on August 27, 2010 at the Warsaw Philharmonic Concert Hall.

Frédéric Chopin (1810-1849) composed his first piano concerto in 1830. At the time, he was still living in his native Poland and was just 20 years old. The premier of Piano Concerto No. 1 took place in October of the same year at Warsaw’s National Theater, with Chopin himself playing the challenging piano part.

Chopin’s Piano Concerto No. 1, Op. 11 was popular with audiences from the very beginning. But it also had its critics, who complained that the orchestra was only given a supporting role to the piano, which was the star of the show. And it is true that the orchestra serves merely to add atmosphere to the piano as the main part. Chopin based the piano part on the Belcanto singing of Italian operas. That’s where the many decorative artistic details come from. The musical motifs of Piano Concerto Op. 11 are based on many traditional Polish melodies. That makes the concert very memorable. It is also very romantic in character.

Almost all great piano virtuosos have played Frédéric Chopin’s first Piano Concerto. Martha Argerich, for example, performed and even recorded it many times. To everyone’s surprise, Argerich discovered new facets of the concerto each time she performed it. This is of course thanks to her virtuosity as a piano performer but also due to her temperament and her surprising spontaneity.

Martha Argerich plays Chopin’s Piano Concerto No. 1: The tried and tested combination for audiences to enjoy a wonderfully romantic concert!

(00:00) I. Allegro maestoso

(20:53) II. Romanze – Larghetto

(30:46) III. Rondo – Vivace

© Idéale Audience (https://www.ideale-audience.com) 

Frederic Chopin - Waltz Rain

Pleasure and Pain: On Being an Amateur Pianist

 by Frances Wilson, Interlude 

Practical Tips for Amateur Pianist

© 4.bp.blogspot.com

Alan Rusbridger’s book ‘Play It Again’ (published in 2013) shone a delightful and inspirational light on the world of amateur pianism, but people have been playing music at home and with friends for almost as long as keyboard instruments have been in existence. In the nineteenth century, when advances in design and production significantly reduced the cost of manufacturing pianos, an upright piano in the parlour was the norm for family entertainment, much as the PlayStation or smart TV is today (sadly).

Probably the single most positive aspect of being an amateur pianist is not having to make a living from playing the instrument. Recently, I have begun to play for solo performances and accompanying, which puts me in the hallowed category of “professional pianist”, but my main income comes from piano teaching, and I wouldn’t have it any different, to be honest. Not having to earn a living from playing the piano means one can truly indulge one’s passion for it. (Indeed, the word “amateur” comes from the Old French meaning “lover of” from the Latin amator.) All the amateur pianists I meet and know play the piano because they love it and care passionately about it.

© photos1.meetupstatic.com

That is not to say that professionals don’t love the piano too – of course they do, otherwise they wouldn’t do it, but a number of concert pianists whom I’ve met and interviewed have expressed frustration at the demands of the profession – producing programms to order, the travelling, the expectations of audiences, promoters, agents etc, all of which can obscure the love for the piano and its literature. Because of this, professionals are often quite envious of the freedom amateur pianists have to indulge their passion, to play whatever repertoire they choose and to play purely for pleasure.

Lucky pianists: the piano has a vast repertoire, more than enough to suit all tastes. One could spend a lifetime learning and playing only the music of, say, J.S. Bach or Frédéric Chopin and only scratch the tiniest surface of the piano repertoire. And in addition to solo works, there is music for three, four, six hands to enjoy with other pianists, not to mention being called upon to accompany other instrumentalists and singers… Really, we are spoilt rotten!

Being a pianist can be a lonely occupation/hobby and working alone on that knotty section of Liszt or Hanon exercises can at times be frustrating and demoralising. However, it needn’t be lonely: in recent years the popularity of piano meetup groups and piano clubs, or even informal get-togethers at one another’s houses, has created a wonderful community of like-minded people who meet regularly to play for one another, share repertoire and socialise.

© 1901artsclub.com

Some adult amateur pianists are shy about playing to others for fear of making mistakes and looking foolish, or because of negative experiences in childhood piano lessons. Piano meetups and clubs are a good way of overcoming these anxieties – you quickly discover that most people feel the same and playing to a friendly non-judgmental group of people is an excellent way of overcoming those performance nerves.

Adult pianists may also find it difficult to find the right teacher to support and encourage them. Some adults like to be pushed by a teacher, others need more gentle handling. Many come to lessons with a lot of “baggage” and anxieties, often a hangover from childhood music lessons, and need encouragement and support. Some have rather over-ambitious ideas about their capabilities and want to play repertoire which is just too challenging. In such instances, I recommend selecting repertoire that is well within one’s “comfort zone” to give one confidence, while gradually introducing more complex repertoire to extend and challenge one’s abilities, both technical and musical. And no repertoire should ever be considered “off limits” to the amateur pianist: the music was written to be played!

However, the music still has to be learnt and one of the greatest frustrations expressed by amateur pianists is finding the time to practise, especially if you have a busy day job and/or family commitments. We all know that “practise makes perfect”, but what is more important is that practise makes permanent and regular practise means notes are learnt, finessed and made secure. My personal mantra is “little and often” and I have become adept at sneaking practise sessions into a particularly busy day or if I am going to be away from the piano for a period of time. It’s amazing what just 10 minutes focused practising can achieve – but you need to know what needs to be done (a good teacher will offer guidance on this and give one tools to practise efficiently and effectively).

If you don’t have the benefit of regular lessons with a teacher, there are plenty of online resources in the form of blogs, YouTube tutorials, and forums, and there are also courses for adult amateur pianists where you can study with international concert pianists and acclaimed teachers or simply enjoy being amongst like-minded people. Such courses are a great way to meet other pianists and observing others being taught in the masterclass or group workshop setting can be really useful. Many of my pianist friends return to the same courses year after year and firm friendships have been forged.

Not everyone has the luxury of an acoustic piano (upright or grand) but there are some excellent digital pianos on the market now. There are also street pianos in public spaces, railway stations and airports just begging to be played, and if you crave the sleek elegance of a grand piano, there are rehearsal rooms available to hire for a modest fee. Seated at that glorious, gleaming black expanse of mahogany, you can set your imagination free and dream of playing to a full house at the Wigmore or Carnegie Hall.

Ukrainian pianist plays a final Chopin melody before fleeing ruined home near Kyiv

Irina plays piano in her destroyed hometown of Bila Tserkva. Picture: TikTok @kkkarysia

By Sophia Alexandra Hall, ClassicFM London

@sophiassocials

 

Irina Maniukina plays her piano amidst a destroyed home, one last time, before being forced to flee. 

Irina Maniukina brushes the ashes off the keys of her grand piano, as she sits down to make music in her family home one last time.

In a TikTok video filmed by her daughter, Karina, the 48-year-old mother of two takes a deep breath of composure, before she starts to play Chopin’s Étude Op. 25, No. 1 (Aeolian Harp). As she performs, the camera pans around the destroyed house, showing debris, smashed glass, and rubble.

Hours earlier, a bomb landed just 30 feet away from her home in Bila Tserkva, south of Kyiv. Through the blown-out windows in another TikTok video posted by Karina, you can see her neighbours gathered around a huge crater in the ground.

In a pinned video comment, Karina writes: “Do not judge, my mother is a professional pianist and decided to play to let go of this case.”

The video, which has been watched almost 2 million times on the platform, has been shared across other social media channels, and commenters have drawn comparisons to the film The Pianist.

Composer Howard Goodall drew comparisons to the November Uprising, also known as the Polish-Russian War 1830-1. The BAFTA-winning musician suggested it was particularly poignant that Irina played Chopin, as he also had to leave his home country when Russians invaded.

Prior to the bomb explosion outside their house, Karina said there was no warning; no plane sounds, no air sirens, just an “orange and black” cloud when the blast hit.

“After the explosion, everything was smashed and in ashes,” Karina said. “I looked around the house and saw that a fire was starting in my brother’s room. I had already called my mother and they rushed as quickly as possible. They couldn’t drive straight to the house. Since the wires just lay on the road.

“They ran into the house and all together ran to put out the fire.

“After that, everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and my mother decided to gather her thoughts and sit down at the piano.”

Houses destroyed during Bila Tserkva air strikes. Picture: Getty

Karina said the performance “wasn’t a sad moment”, as the music helped her remember all the good times they had in that house.

“[My mother has] been playing all her life and she even graduated as a pianist,” said Karina. “She [played because she] wanted to forget about the war and her worries for our safety [in that moment].”

The family were then forced to flee from their home, and last week, made the 300-mile journey to the western Ukrainian city, Lviv.

They’re currently looking for an apartment, but Karina has shared that “they’re all occupied”.

Chopin’s Illness and His Posthumous Music

 by Georg Predota , Interlude 

Frédéric Chopin

Frédéric Chopin suffered from serious and chronic health problems throughout his short life. Already in his teens, Chopin suffered from frequent respiratory problems that included coughing, headaches, and the swelling of the cervical lymph glands. Biographers and doctors have detailed numerous episodes of bronchitis and laryngitis, and he appears to have caught a bout of influenza in Paris in 1837. Adding to this were several periods of severe depression, as he complained of “hopelessness, apathy, and sleeplessness.” It has been reported that he frequently had to “be carried to bed after playing the piano for a long time.” His doctor, Paul-Léon-Marie Gaubert assured him that he was not suffering from tuberculosis, but that might simply have been some friendly misdirection. As Chopin’s health deteriorated after 1840, he was described “as pale, thin, looking ill, and weighing only 45 kilograms.”

Delacroix: Chopin, 1838

When Chopin traveled to England during the winter of 1847 his health had only deceptively improved. He was habitually short of breath and lacked energy, and instead of performing a series of concerts, as he had hoped, he spent most of his time in bed. A side trip to Scotland in April 1848 only made matters worse, and he returned to Paris in a seriously weakened state in November of that year. An army of doctors tended to his physical ailments, including cough, fever, painful wrists and ankles, hemoptysis, hematemesis and ankle edema. Chopin’s condition deteriorated further at the beginning of October 1849, and he died on the morning of 17 October 1849 “after having been unconscious for 24 hours.” The death certificate listed tuberculosis in the lungs and larynx as the official cause. Dr. Jean Cruveilhier, considered one of the foremost medical experts, performed the autopsy, but his report has never been found.

Frédéric Chopin, 1849

Despite his constant health struggles, “Chopin reached a new plateau of creative achievement, marked by an eloquent simplicity which severely excludes the extraneous and the gratuitously ornamental.” These last works, however, did cause Chopin and assorted editors and publishers some difficulties. Chopin generally bypassed the sketching process and proceeded directly from the piano to the engraver’s manuscript. As such, dealing with Chopin’s posthumous works—some I am featuring in this article—turned out to be a rather complex undertaking. Chopin’s posthumous publications of 1855 and 1869 featured opp. 66-74. The edition was prepared by Julian Fontana for Meissonier and A.M. Schlesinger. Theses posthumous works resurface in the two earliest collected editions of Chopin’s work. Fétis edited one for Schonenberger in 1860, and the other was edited by Chopin’s Norwegian student Tellefsen and published by Richault, also in 1860. These two editions are markedly different because “the first assumed an editorial license, an implicit belief that the editor knows best, while the second attempted to recover a living Chopin performance tradition, even if this involved departing from the sources.”

Chopin on his deathbed

The majority of Chopin editions published in the late 19th and early 20th century followed these two opposing philosophies. Furthermore, the late 19th century cultivated several different images of Chopin. In France, Chopin was considered the poet of the piano, who “disclosed his suffering through music.” His music was placed entirely within an intimate performance context, and his art for nuance, sophistication and refinement was considered a model to be followed. In Germany, meanwhile, Chopin was freed from the Parisian salon and elevated to a composer of classical music. For Russian composers, Chopin was first and foremost a Slavonic composer, and England “largely domesticated his compositions… reducing his music to ‘drawing-room trifles,” and ‘pearls’.” Chopin’s music was, for the late 19th century, “an intimate communication, an agent for cultural and even political propaganda, and a commodity.”