Chopin’s Nocturnes, part II, 2015

Chopin’s Nocturnes, part II, 2015

September 7, 2015.  Chopin’s Nocturnes, part II.  On this holiday weekend we’ll skip several important anniversaries (Antonin Dvořák; one of our all-time favorites Henry Purcell; William Boyce, another wonderful English composer; and Arvo Pärt – we’ll write about them at another time) and turn to the nocturnes by Frédéric Chopin.   This is the second part of an article, which Frederic Chopinwe started on July 13th.  It is a testament to the changing musical tastes that we’ll have to compliment the performances by the young pianists from our library (Krystian Tkaczewski and Gabriel Escudero) with those of the masters (Pollini, Rubinstein, Richter, Barenboim, and Horowitz), borrowed from YouTube.  Not that long ago Chopin’s nocturnes were among the most often played pieces in all of the piano repertory.  Not that anybody today doubts that these are works of genius – they’re just not performed as often.  In some sense it’s even better, as they sound fresher that way. 

 

2 Nocturnes, op. 37

The two nocturnes published as op. 37 form a marvelous pair of contrasting major/minor key pieces. Published in 1840, they were also composed around that time. The latter of the two, that in G major, with its barcarolle rhythms, is believed to have been composed the previous year when Chopin accompanied George Sand to the island of Majorca. At one time, these two works were highly praised. Robert Schumann considered them the finest nocturnes Chopin composed describing them as “of that nobler kind under which poetic ideality gleams more transparently (than the earlier Nocturnes).” However, since the twentieth century, this praise has somewhat waned.

 

The first of the op. 37 nocturnes is in G minor (here). Its lugubrious melody is modestly ornamented and unfolds expressively over a chordal accompaniment in steady quarter notes. It is immediately restated, with some further ornamentation, but greatly intensified as the dynamic is raised from piano to forte, and even reaches fortissimo. Yet, Chopin reigns in the melody’s emotional outpouring with a softer dynamic at the start of its second strain, leaving it to carry on in hushed torment until its conclusion. From a closing cadence in the tonic key, Chopin modulates with ease into the key of E-flat major for the consoling middle portion. This entire episode takes on the character of a simple, pious choral, which some commentators interpret as an expression of Chopin’s faith in religion. With the exception of a few grace notes, the quarter note rhythm is undisturbed, carrying the music along with unshakeable surety. Indeed, there is an effortless serenity here in Chopin’s music. During its last measures, the chorale is broken up by pauses, and subtle changes in harmony lead to reestablishment of the key of G minor. The opening melody is then reprised and is virtually unchanged, albeit shortened, and its final measures are altered to bring about an effective close on the tonic major chord.  (Continue reading here).

In contrast, the second piece of the set (here) adopts the key of G major and the more usual compound meter of the Fieldian nocturne. Against the accompaniment of broken chords allotted to the left hand is presented a blithe melody sweetly harmonized in thirds and sixths. Besides its carefree and somewhat languorous demeanor, the melody adds an element of sensuousness by means of its harmonic adventurousness, first touching upon A minor, then arriving at D-flat major and B-flat major, before returning to the tonic key. In place of the more usual ternary design, Chopin adopts a rondo form by contrasting this principal theme with a twice-appearing sostenuto episode. Contrary to the overall opinion of the op. 37 set, the melody of this episode, which in its basic form is hardly changed, is considered among Chopin’s finest, possessed with an overwhelming sense of happiness and contentment. Yet, despite its simple form, Chopin presents the tune in no less than five different keys, ranging from C major to A-flat major, between the two appearances of the episode, in which he moves seamlessly from one key to the next. The opening theme is briefly reprised following each statement of the episode, but it is the episode’s simple tune that brings the nocturne to its quite, joyous conclusion.

 

2 Nocturnes, op. 48

The next pair of nocturnes came soon after op. 37, and were produced during the most fruitful period of Chopin’s tragically short life. Composed in 1841, they were published in January of the following year as op. 48, and were dedicated to Mlle. Laura Duperre. They were also among the several pieces—which included the Allegro de Concert, op. 46, the Fantasie op. 49, and the F sharp minor Polonaise, op. 44—which Chopin sold the copyrights to for a total of 2,000 francs. Like the earlier op. 27, the pair of nocturnes here presented is far removed from Fieldian prototype so marvelously exemplified in the much earlier op. 9 pieces. The profound depth of expression of these pieces and superb handling of form by their composer instead make them more the character pieces (in particular the ballade) that would become a hallmark of the Romantic period.

 

The first of the pair opens in the tragic key of C minor with an intensely sorrowful melody moving against a bass line in octaves and staccato chords (here). Little changes in this opening section as the music seems numbed by its own misery. Ornamentation is minimal—the melody breaking into a long, pathetic melisma only in its final measures. Of particular interest is a sixteenth-note rhythm introduced in the bass roughly halfway through the melody that furthers the tragic air of the piece. Marked to be played a little slower (Poco piu lento), the central episode of this ternary design changes into the major mode and presents the listener with a sotto voce chorale-like tune in thick-voiced chords. The consoling chorale is, however, interrupted by agitated Lisztian octaves moving in triplet rhythms and chromatic motion that drive the music to its climax. Deftly, Chopin maintains the triplets, without any loss of energy, as the accompaniment of a greatly altered restatement of the opening theme. The coda is approached by a traditional cadential 6-4 chord leading into the dominant, but the expected tonic chord is replaced by a poignant discord above a G-flat (the diminished fifth of the scale). From the fortissimo reach on this discord, the music diminishes into an unaccompanied melisma before quietly ending on three solemn tonic chords.

 

The C minor Nocturne’s companion piece (here) is of a much different character. Instead of grief, the piece is introspective, musing contentedly in its own nighttime reveries. Despite the key signature of F-sharp minor, the two introductory bars immediately flirt with the major mode, but then establish the minor tonality as the music cadences into the first theme. As the contemplative theme winds about mostly confined to the minor scale, the underpinning harmonies continue to make use of tones borrowed from the major mode, as well as adding a beguiling sense of ambiguity. Six-five chords often replace what would be expected triads and augmented sixths provide tangents into related tonal areas. Also a ternary design like the preceding piece, the episode likewise provides a charming point of departure. Marked to be played somewhat slower (Più lento), the meter changes from common to triple, the key into the dominant major, all the while the music, by Chopin’s own recorded direction to a student, takes own a recitative-like character. Paired chords, adhering now more to the dictates of pure diatonic harmony, are separated by unaccompanied melodic phrases, which incased is the motivic germ for the entire section. Ultimately, a sort of climax is reached upon the dominant of D-flat major, from which Chopin, with masterful ease, quickly transitions back into a reprise of the opening theme. Beginning as it did before, the reprise eventually breaks off into an unaccompanied phrase, subtly recalling the texture of the central episode, and signaling the start of the coda.

 

2 Nocturnes, op. 55

The next set of nocturnes followed a few years later, being composed during 1842-44 and were dedicated to Jane Stirling, a pupil and friend of Chopin’s. Though testaments to the composer’s masterly skill of his later years, particularly in regards to the second of the set, they are somewhat less satisfying than the dramatic essays which precede them. The first of the set, that in F minor, perhaps the most so, as its overall style, though undeniably Chopin, is rather simplistic. Consequently, the op. 55 nocturnes were largely neglected by concert pianists until the latter part of the 20th century.

 

The F minor nocturne opens with a melancholy tune that circles glumly about the dominant beneath which a chordal accompaniment struggles to rise from the initial tonic (here). Chopin repeats the melody, but only with modest embellishments, and a further reappearance of the opening strains brings the piece’s first section to a close in the tonic key. Immediately, the central episode of this ternary design then begins with an agitated monophonic line in triplet rhythm and marked forte. This new idea alternates several times with a purely chordal idea before the stormy triplets subside into the left hand beneath a new melody of even greater pathos. Breaking off on a diminished seventh harmony, a sweeping chromatically-inflected descent through the tonic scale leads into the final bars before the return of the first theme, a tense stretto passage that closes on a half cadence. The opening theme at first returns unaltered, but is soon disturbed by the agitated triplets of the episode. Over a pedal F, at which point the coda begins, the music briefly touches on the key of the subdominant, but this modulation proves only to be a means of a bringing about a permanent change into the key of F major. Over a long sustained F major chord, arpeggios ascend quickly into the glistening upper register of the piano, as if the composer has suddenly been carried away from all his cares. A final cadence with rippled tonic chords and the nocturne comes to a serene ending.

 

On the other hand, the following E-flat major nocturne (here) is farther removed from the straightforward approach of its companion. Instead of the clear-cut delineations of ternary form found in most of Chopin’s nocturnes, the second piece of op. 55 concerns itself with an endlessly evolving melody, developing like an unhindered stream of consciousness. In this manner it bears resemblance and warrants close comparison with the much earlier E-flat Nocturne of op. 9. While that earlier piece may be the more popular, the greater mastery of the later work cannot be denied. In compound meter, the melody unfolds over an unwavering accompaniment of broken chords that are beautifully enriched by the addition of chromatic appoggiaturas. Further added to the melody are occasional moments of counterpoint by means of the addition of a second voice beneath the principal melody, often adding even more succulent chromaticism to the texture. The piece reaches its high point with trills leading into a fortissimo reinforcement of the tonic key. From thence, the music subsides back into its unhurried ebb and flow, reaching eventually a coda of ethereal beauty.

 

2 Nocturnes, op. 62

A span of three years separate the op. 62 nocturnes from the previous pair published as op. 55, placing their date of composition in 1846, just three years before the composer’s death. By this time, Chopin’s health had already significantly deteriorated, and his compositional output, as well as his fame as a virtuoso, was waning. It is no surprise, then, that these two works were long dismissed, even as late as the 20th century, as the products of a sickly man, one no longer in possession of his former genius. Yet, nothing could be farther from the truth, and such condemnation of these musical gems is hardly justified. Continuing in the line of development of the op. 55, these final nocturnes of Chopin are enshrouded with the intimacy of expression and introspective thought that composers seem only able to reach in their later years.

 

The first, in B major and marked Andante (here), opens with two introductory bars that move from the supertonic to a dominant seventh. A brief pause, like a moment’s reflective thought, and the nocturne’s principal theme begins, a beautiful dolce tune above a finely woven accompaniment of broken chords, richly enhanced with lush Romantic harmonies and plentiful appoggiaturas. The theme’s second strain begins to move away from the tonic key, while the accompaniment also becomes more intricate with the addition of a countermelody. Touching on the relative minor, the music ventures ultimately into the key of D-sharp minor. The music takes on an air of mystery as the accompaniment outlines the principal chords of that key over a tonic pedal. An unsettled syncopation begins—a foreshadowing of the nocturne’s middle section, while the right hand weaves mesmerizing melismas that culminate in a sweeping, forte run embellishing a plagal cadence. The principal theme then resumes from the beginning but is substantially altered. In terms of ornamentation, it is only modestly embellished, but it now begins a half measure early, presaging its considerably altered reprise. It averts the full cadence in B major it reached before, and Chopin modulates with masterly ease into the more distant key of A-flat major. Despite its major key tonality, the melody of the middle section is anxious, perturbed by the reappearance of the earlier syncopations and the supple chromaticism of the underlying harmonies, which venture as far afield as A minor. Though the key of A-flat major is regained, even in the episode’s closing measures the music is tinged with the colors of the minor mode. Closing on the dominant, a simple trill leads into the reprise of the principal theme, now elaborately embellished with successive trills and sweeping runs associated with the distinctive fioritura style of Italian bel canto opera. Its actual presence, however is short-lived. A brief contrapuntal interlude leads into an altered version of the early melismatic D-sharp minor section, now transformed with ethereal beauty over a tonic pedal, and ultimately concluding in the final cadential figures of the piece.

 

The following E major nocturne (here), the last that Chopin composed, opens without introduction with its principal theme—a lyrical, unassuming, even impersonal theme. It becomes more impassioned during its middle strain, the relatively smooth flow of the melody is disturbed by sudden wide leaps and a sudden build up to a fortissimo on a discord invoking the tones of the parallel minor key. Yet, as if realizing its outburst, the music attempts to quickly regain its cool composure, but a sidestep into the key of C major and the chromatic return to E major belie the piece’s calm. Like several of Chopin’s nocturnes before, this one also turns to a more active middle section. Yet, the agitato style that permeated so many of those works is now replaced by a sense of introspective busywork. Beginning in the bass, lines of sixteenth note adopt familiar contrapuntal figures as the key slips into the relative minor. A melody soon after emerges in the right land, yet Chopin soon delights in letting it engage in delightful imitation with the bass, as it mirrors and adopts its Baroque-ish figurations. With ease, Chopin transitions back into the first theme. Yet, this abridged reprise quickly returns to the contrapuntal preoccupations of the middle section, which forms much of the work’s coda.

 

Nocturne in E minor, op. 72, no. 1

The last of Chopin’s nocturnes to be assigned an opus number, the Nocturne in E minor is, in fact, the first that Chopin composed, dating from the late 1820s (here). It was one of several pieces Chopin was not satisfied enough with to ever publish. Upon his death, he wished for all his unpublished manuscripts to be destroyed. Of course, this wish went unheeded, and the piece was published as part of the posthumous op. 72 in 1855, along with the Marche funèbre and the 3 Ecossaises.

 

Though very close in style to the Fieldian nocturne, Chopin’s first essay into the genre bears his unmistakable stamp. Against the gentle accompaniment of broken chords in triplet rhythm, a melancholy tune full of longing gracefully unfolds. Chopin repeats the melody with modest embellishments, after which the music becomes slightly disturbed by the emphasis of duple eighths against the underlying current of triplets. After a close on the dominant, a new melody briefly emerges over a dominant pedal and strongly leans towards the key of E major. This brief eight-measure section is the only point of contrast, if it can indeed be called such, in the piece. Immediately following, the principal theme resumes, now varied with more Chopin-esque ornamentation, imbuing it temporarily with increased passion. However, it soon subsides back into its wistful state. The contrasting phrase heard earlier then returns to form the nocturne’s coda, now appearing over a tonic pedal and drawing the music to a conclusion in E major.