Frédéric Chopin: The Etudes

2 Pianist and pedagogue

Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy [letter 6.10.1835]

'[.] His playing has enchanted me anew [.] There is something entirely his own in his piano playing, and at the same time so masterly that he may truly be called a perfect virtuoso.'

(Eigeldinger. p. 268.)

In the light of the developments described in the previous chapter it comes as no surprise that the Etudes Op. 10 published in 1833 were a true sensation. They were believed to be unplayable. Ludwig Rellstab (1799-1860), famous and notorious critic, wrote:

'Let us, however, be remitted from furnishing a special review of the 12 new apostles that Mr Chopin has sent into the world with the above 12 pieces and content ourselves with the surely not useless remark that those who have distorted fingers may put them right by practising these studies; but those who have not, should not play them, at least, not without having Messrs von Gräfe or Dieffenbach [Berlin surgeons famous around 1830] at hand.'

Eigeldinger, p. 144.

Rellstab's observations are admittedly very drastic, but the Etudes' difficulties that were certainly unusual for the time must indeed have seemed absurd to many. In contrast to the technical demands of Beethoven's sonatas that served as a benchmark for numerous Czerny, Clementi and Cramer etudes, Chopin's Op. 10 required a completely different, hitherto unknown piano technique. That he was aware of this we learn from a letter to Woyciechowski where he writes:

'I have written a big Technical Exercise [Exercise en forme] in my own special manner. I'll show it to you when we meet.'

Chopin, 20.10.1829 (Sydow/Hedley p. 35.)

It was immediately clear that his Etudes were something extraordinary, even though only a few people were capable of playing them. Among the pianists there was however one who was up to any pianistic challenge: Liszt, to whom they were dedicated, played them brilliantly. Chopin writes about this to Ferdinand Hiller (1811-1885) in 1833:

'I am writing without knowing what my pen is scribbling, because at this moment Liszt is playing my studies, and putting honest thoughts out of my head: I should like to rob him of the way to play my own studies.'

Chopin, 20.6.1833 (Sydow/Hedley p. 117.)

Others, such as the highly regarded Ignaz Moscheles, (1794-1870), needed more time to warm to Chopin's new manner. In 1833, shortly after Op. 10 was published, Moscheles wrote:

'I gladly pass some of my leisure hours of an evening in cultivating an acquaintance with Chopin's Studies and his other compositions. I am charmed with their originality, and the national coloring of his subjects. My thoughts, however, and through them my fingers, stumble at certain hard, inartistic, and to me inconceivable modulations. On the whole I find his music often too sweet, not manly enough, and hardly the work of a profound musician.'16

Moscheles, Vol. I, p. 295.

Even in 1838 he still wrote:

'I play all the new works of the four modern heroes, Thalberg, Chopin, Henselt and Liszt, and find that their chief effects lie in passages requiring a large grasp and stretch of finger, such as the peculiar build of their hands enables them to execute; I grasp less, but then I am not of a grasping school. With all my admiration for Beethoven I cannot forget Mozart, Cramer and Hummel.'

Moscheles, Vol. II, p. 43.

But then - in 1839, after hearing Chopin himself - he was convinced:

'His appearance is completely identified with his music - they are both delicate and sentimental. He played to me in compliance with my request, and I now for the first time understand his music, and all the raptures of the lady world become intelligible. The ad libitum playing, which in the hands of other interpreters of his music degenerates into a constant uncertainty of rhythm, is with him an element of exquisite originality; the hard inartistic modulations, so like those of a dilettante - which I never can manage when playing Chopin's music - cease to shock me, for he glides over them almost imperceptibly with his elfish fingers. His soft playing being a mere breath, he requires no powerful forte to produce the desired contrasts; the consequence is that one never misses the orchestral effects that the German school demands of a pianoforte-player, but is carried away as by some singer who troubles himself very little about the accompaniment, and follows his own impulses. Enough; he is perfectly unique in the world of pianoforte-players. He professes a great attachment for my music, and at all events knows it perfectly. He played me some of his Studies, and his latest work, 'Preludes;' I played in return several things of my own.'

Moscheles, Vol. II, pp. 52-53.

The originality and the new harmonic turns that were a mark of Chopin's music already in his earliest works and particularly in his Etudes was something that not only Moscheles found unconventional. Hector Berlioz, himself no stranger to novel and daring harmonies, also had this impression. He wrote about it in Le Rénovateur (15.12.1833):

'As interpreter and composer, Chopin is an artist apart, bearing no point of resemblance to any other musician I know [.] In his Etudes one finds harmonic combinations of astonishing depth; he has created a kind of chromatic embroidery in several of his compositions, whose effect is so strange and piquant as to be impossible to describe.'

Eigeldinger, p. 272.

That also Chopin's piano playing contributed to the strong impression his works made is described by many of his contemporaries, such as his pupil Georges Mathias (1826-1910):

'Chopin the pianist? Only those who listened to him can rightly appreciate the fact that nothing has ever been approaching his playing. His playing was like his music.

What virtuosity! What power - yes power! - but this lasted only a few measures; and the exaltation! The inspiration! The whole man was vibrant! The piano itself seemed to be intensely alive! How could one fail to be thrilled by it! I repeat, the instrument one heard when Chopin played has never existed except under the hands of Chopin. He played as if he were composing.'

Mathias/Philipp.17

And Robert Schumann testifies to Chopin's playing of his etudes:

'[.] I have had the advantage of hearing most of these Études played by Chopin himself, and quite à la Chopin did he play them! [.]'

Huneker, p. 97.

Chopin at the piano. Drawing (dated 1826) by Princess Élisa Radziwill (1803-1834) (TiFC, Warsaw). The drawing was made on castle Antonin, 295 km southwest of Warsaw, residence of the governor Prince Antoni Radziwill (1775-1833). Because Chopin did not visit the Radziwill family in 1826, it has to be assumed that the drawing was created later (1829?).

The development of Chopin's originality is certainly in part due to his teachers in Warsaw. For instance Joseph Elsner (1769-1854), his composition teacher at the conservatory, remarked after Chopin had repeatedly violated some rules of composition:

'Leave him in peace [he said], his is an uncommon way because his gifts are uncommon. He does not strictly adhere to the customary method, but he has one of his own, and he will reveal in his works an originality which in such a degree has not been found in anyone.'

Niecks, Vol. I. p. 40.

Also regarding his manner of playing, Chopin was more or less given the freedom to go his own way. His piano teacher Wojciech (Adalbert) Zywny (1756-1842), a native of Bohemia who had found his second home in Poland and had become a much sought-after music teacher there, was originally a violin player. As a close friend of the family he very soon recognized Chopin's unusual talent.

That these lessons which the then six-year-old Chopin took from the sixty-year-old Zywny revealed no specific methodical approach was noted also by Kalkbrenner 14 years later, as Chopin reported to his friend Titus Woyciechowski in a letter (12.12.1831):

'When he [Kalkbrenner] had observed me closely he declared that I had no 'school', that I am going along fine but might take the wrong turning.'

Chopin, 12.12.1831 (Sydow/Hedley, p. 98.)

Unsurprisingly, it was not piano technique that was the focus of Zywny's lessons but the masterworks of Bach and Mozart that the young Chopin would become familiar with and which would leave a deep impression on him. Many years later he effortlessly played by heart preludes and fugues from Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier he had studied with Zywny.18 Chopin's pupil Friederike Streicher (1816-1895) commented on this:

'One morning he played from memory fourteen Preludes and Fugues of Bach's [Well-Tempered Clavier] and when I expressed my joyful admiration at this unparalleled performance, he replied: 'Cela ne s'oublie jamais' ['This you can never forget'].'

Niecks, Vol. II, p. 337.

Also when Chopin had to prepare for a concert he studied Bach instead of the programme. His pupil...