"The progress of the music suggests to our imagination such magnificent groups as were designed by Paul Veronese, robed in the rich costume of days long past; we see passing at intervals before us brocades of gold, velvets, damasked satins, silvery, soft, and flexible sables, hanging sleeves gracefully thrown back upon the shoulders, embossed sabers, boots yellow as gold or red with trampled blood, sashes with long and undulating fringes, close chemisettes, rustling trains, stomachers embroidered with pearls, head-dresses glittering with rubies or leafy with emeralds, light slippers rich in amber, gloves perfumed with the luxurious attar of the harems."
The delicacy of Chopin's playing is traditional, but Liszt is authority for the statement that Chopin was fond of hearing his larger and more heroic works played with a power of which he himself was incapable. It is related by some one that upon one occasion a very talented young pianist called upon Chopin, and, being invited to play, did so, the great polonaise in A-flat being the matter. Excited by the work and by the presence of the author, and full of the heroic spirit of the music, he broke several hammers—an occurrence quite common in heavy playing in those days. Naturally, the young man was extremely mortified at this, and endeavored to apologize over and over again. But the composer cut him short. "Say not a word," said he; "if I had your strength I would break every hammer in the piano when I played that piece." This may be one of those "ben trovato" anecdotes which, if not true, ought to be.
Both the polonaises upon the first program illustrate the breadth, impassioned force, and vigor of Chopin's idea to a marked degree, as well, perhaps, as anything he ever composed. The first, commonly known as the "Military Polonaise," is one of those pompous pieces which inevitably suggest some kind of great ceremonial. The movement begins in stately march-like rhythmic swing, and goes on with interruptions of brilliant effect, as if where the cannon and drums add their noisy emphasis. The pomp resumes its march, but presently gives place to a middle part—a trio. This, again, is in the key of D major, with a great swinging melody like a trumpet, the military rhythm going on uninterruptedly below. At length the original movement is resumed, and presently comes the end. In all, it is a matter of pomp, brilliant ceremony, stately march, like some national festival.
The second polonaise is of a wholly different character. The expression is even more forcible than that of the first, but the character is not the same. It is now as if one remembered some of the heroes of Poland. With what fervor enters the leading subject (first four measures)! It is complete in itself. Then comes a softer and more capricious melody, but little more heroic than a nocturne. The second principal idea (measure 25) is mystic, as if some kind of ceremonial were being conducted. The rhythm goes on, but softly and with interruptions. At length the principal idea again. Now comes the middle piece, in the key of D-flat—a beautiful melody, one of the finest of Chopin's, supported upon very delicate and sensitively changing harmonies, full of chromatic and enharmonic modulation. After this a second idea, in which two voices carry on the interest; the upper a soprano, the lower a baritone or tenor, and they have a sort of dialogue (measure 66). Then the soft melody again. In the first editions of this work the da capo was not marked, and for about forty years critics gave themselves headaches in trying to explain why Chopin invented a new form of this anomalous construction,—a first part in the key of C-sharp minor; a second part in the key of D-flat major. "Where," they asked, "was the unity?" And by way of emphasis they spelled the word Unity with a capital initial. At last, however, some Solomon among editors affixed the missing letters "D. C.," and behold! we had our Unity all right. It was simply a case of a middle piece in the major key of the same tonic, with the notation changed enharmonically for the sake of simplicity, the key of D-flat being, for the majority of players, easier to read than that of C-sharp major.
The preludes which follow represent individual moods. The first, in E minor, consists of a slow melody, almost stationary, while against the long tones a chord accompaniment softly pulsates, the harmonies shifting chromatically.
The second, No. 6, in B minor, has a lovely melodic idea in the bass, while the right hand carries a soft harmony and a slow pulsation in the upper voice. The impression of the whole is most mysterious, melancholy, and tender.
No. 7, in A major, is one of the preludes which seems as if it might have been a beginning for a longer composition, perhaps a slow waltz.
No. 9, in E major, a very grave, serious, organ-like movement, in which massive, tremendous chord-successions march onward to a climax through unheard-of modulations. This piece, by the way, has been arranged for organ very effectively by A. W. Gottschalg. In playing it the slow movement, the sustained and deep melody, and the steady rhythm all require careful attention.
The prelude in D-flat represents a larger flight of the Chopin fancy. It begins with a lovely melody, like a nocturne. This exquisite melody gives place to a somewhat broken part in the key of C-sharp minor, in which the remarkable thing is the incessant repetition of the note G-sharp. This continues in eighth-note motion throughout all the measures of this part of the work. It can only be made tolerable by careful observance of the "sotto voce" at beginning and gradually increasing in power up to the fortissimo in the fortieth measure. Again it subsides into pianissimo, and again the crescendo. Finally the original melody in D-flat is resumed—and with what grateful sweetness!—and the piece is carried through to the close.
The waltzes of Chopin are not to be taken too seriously. They are salon music, but of a particularly pleasing character. One of the most charming, although a small one, is that in C-sharp minor, which is built upon three leading motives. First the motive of two measures which opens the work; then the little passage of eighth notes which answers it; and finally the running work beginning in measure 33. Farther along there is a melody in D-flat, which stands in place of a trio. It is a sentimental and lovely melody. The effect of the whole is light, capricious, and musical.