Yet how much mischief may arise from following this true and simple maxim, “Play as you feel.” How many celebrated pianists exaggerate or misunderstand the meaning of Chopinʼs works! His principle is only a sure and infallible guide when the player has the capacity of perceiving the intentions of the composer. This, unfortunately, is a rare gift, and its absence in the rendering of Chopinʼs compositions is doubly painful. He felt this himself, and when one of his French pupils was being overwhelmed with praise for his performance of one of his masterʼs works, Chopin said, quickly, that he had played the piece very well, but had quite missed the Polish element and the Polish enthusiasm. Nor did he confine this criticism to the interpretation of distinctively Polish works, such as mazurkas and polonaises, but applied it also to his concertos, nocturnes, ballads, and studies.
FEW GOOD INTERPRETERS OF CHOPIN. La Mara[34] was not wrong in saying that a correct performance of Chopinʼs works was rarely to be had. No one, be he ever so great a pianist, who cannot sympathise with the misfortunes which have been and are still the lot of the Pole, no one who does not understand the melancholy characteristic of the whole nation, can interpret Chopin with faithfulness.
One evening, in 1833 or 1834, there were assembled at the house of the Castellan Count Plater three great artists: Liszt, Hiller, and Chopin. A lively discussion arose on national music, Chopin maintaining, that no one who had not been in Poland and inhaled the perfume of its meadows could have any true sympathy with its folk-songs. As a test of this it was proposed to play the well-known Mazurka, “Poland is not lost yet.” Liszt played first, then Hiller, each giving a different interpretation. Several pianists followed; last of all came Chopin, whom both Liszt and Hiller were obliged to admit far surpassed them in comprehending the spirit of the Mazurka.
There is, undoubtedly, a growing interest among the public in Chopinʼs original compositions, but the number of his interpreters who really understand him is still very small. In some we find a certain affectation and coquetry, in others only the poetic frenzy (schwärmerei) which is infused into most of his works, while others again seek expression by means of violent contrasts. These apparent diversities are rarely combined in one individual, but it is only in their union that we find the true Chopin stamp of genius.
As the best means for acquiring a natural style our master recommended the frequent hearing of Italian singers, among whom there were at that time many celebrities in Paris. He always applauded their broad, simple style and the easy manner in which they used and consequently preserved their voices, as worthy the imitation of all pianists, especially of those who hoped to attain perfection. He advised his pupils not to break up the musical thoughts, but to let them pour out in a broad stream; he liked to hear in a player what in a singer is understood by portamento. He hated any exaggeration of accent which, in his opinion, destroyed all the poetry of playing and made it appear pedantic.
CHARACTERISTICS OF CHOPINʼS PLAYING. Chopinʼs soft velvety fingers could evoke the most exquisite effects. No other pianist of the day possessed his executive skill and refined taste, or equalled him in those passing embellishments which he interwove into his playing, and which resembled filagree work or the most delicate Brabant lace. He was very fond of playing to himself or some favourite pupil the works of Sebastian Bach, which he had studied with the utmost accuracy and completely mastered.[35] The tempo rubato was a special characteristic of Chopinʼs playing. He would keep the bass quiet and steady, while the right hand moved in free tempo, sometimes with the left hand, and sometimes quite independently, as, for example, when it plays quaver, trills, or those magic, rhythmical runs and fioritures peculiar to Chopin. “The left hand,” he used to say, “should be like a bandmaster, and never for a moment become unsteady or falter.”
By this means his playing was free from the trammels of measure and acquired its peculiar charm. The outlines, like those in a good painting of a winter landscape, shade off into a transparent mist. He used the tempo rubato with great effect, not only in his nocturnes but also in many of his mazurkas. Those who have entered into the spirit of Chopinʼs works will easily see when to use the rubato. Chopin rendered the tremolo to perfection, making the melody float like a boat on the bosom of the waters. Liszt says:—
“Chopin was the first to use the tempo rubato, which gave such an original stamp to his compositions: an evanescent, interrupted measure, ductile, abrupt, yet languishing, and flickering like a flame in the breeze. In his later works he left off marking tempo rubato at the commencement of a piece, considering that whoever understood it would of himself discover this law of latitude. Chopinʼs works require to be played with a certain accent and swing which it is difficult for anyone to acquire who has not had frequent opportunities of hearing him play. He seemed very anxious to impart this style to his pupils, and especially to his compatriots. His Polish pupils, particularly the ladies, acquired this method with all the quick sensitiveness which they possess for poetic feeling; and their innate perception of his thoughts enabled them to follow faithfully all the undulations on his azure sea of sentiment.”
While Chopin was strong and healthy, as during the first years of his residence in Paris, he used to play on an Erard piano; but after his friend Camillo Pleyel had made him a present of one of his splendid instruments, remarkable for their metallic ring and very light touch, he would play on no other makerʼs. If he were engaged for a soirée at one of his Polish or French friends, he would often send his own instrument, if there did not happen to be a Pleyel in the house. “Quand je suis mal disposé,” said Chopin, “je joue sur un piano dʼErard et jʼy trouve facilement un son fait. Mais quand je me sens en verve et assez fort, pour trouver mon propre son à moi, il me faut un piano de Pleyel.”