Imagine a candle-lit, elegant salon filled with ladies of all ages, fashionably dressed. Many are swooning, or about to. At the piano, Chopin, his delicate features lit by some inner vision as his lean, aesthetic fingers draw from the keys the most ephemeral tracery, while his girlfriend, Amantine-Lucile-Aurore Dupin, whose pen name was George Sand, stands nearby, puffing a cigar. (Shamelessly stolen from the liner notes to the CD.)
While this is all a part of the Chopin legend, there is a element of truth here. His nocturnes are among his most beloved pieces, and I covered them when I did Fred’s life several years ago at the Canteen. This weekend, I’ll be covering them again for those who need a little food for the soul.
Unlike the preludes (Opus 28) and etudes (Opus 10 & 25), which were published all at once, Fred published his nocturnes at intervals throughout his life. The first one, despite its high opus number, was written in Poland when he was just 17 and three years away from traveling to Paris where he spent the rest of his short life. You’d never know it. The atmosphere and invention are all there, and the wind down at the end is heartbreaking.
Note that I’ll be using Arthur Rubinstein’s recordings, where are still the gold standard for Chopin.