肖邦(Chopin)新格罗夫词条【完整版】

肖邦(Chopin)新格罗夫词条【完整版】 Chopin, Fryderyk Franciszek [Frédéric François] (b ?elazowa Wola, nr Warsaw, 1 March 1810; d Paris, 17 Oct 1849 ). Polish composer and pianist. He combined a gift for melody, an adventurous harmonic sense, an intuitive and inventive understanding of formal design and a brilliant piano technique in composing a major corpus of piano music. One of the leading 19th-century composers who began a career as a pianist, he abandoned concert life early; but his music represents the quintessence of the Romantic piano tradition and embodies more fully than any other composer?s the expressive and technical characteristics of the instrument. Silhouette of Fryderyk Chopin at the piano F. Phillip, Lebrecht Music & Arts 1. In his homeland: 1810–30. Chopin was the second of four children born to Miko?aj Chopin and Tekla Justyna Krzy?anowska; according to the register of births his birth date was 22 February, but he and others always gave the date as 1 March. His parents met in 1802, when Miko?aj, a Frenchman from Lorraine, was employed by Countess Justyna Skarbek as a tutor for her son (later to be Chopin?s godfather) at her estate in ?elazowa Wola, some 45 km west of Warsaw. Chopin?s mother had been sent to the Skarbeks while still a girl. She was a distant relative and acted as a companion and housekeeper for Countess Justyna. The couple married in 1806 and remained with the Skarbek family until 1810, leaving for Warsaw when Chopin was seven months old. Miko?aj had secured a post at the recently established Lyceum, housed in the Saxon Palace, and for more than six years the Chopins lived in an apartment in the right wing of the palace. They were a respected family, and reasonably well connected socially, not least because Miko?aj was shrewd enough to cultivate the right people and to avoid offending those in positions of authority. It was a staunchly middle-class household, committed to a sound education, a well-developed sense of morality and an ethos of self-improvement. All four children benefited from a lively cultural milieu in which literary and musical interests were fostered. In early childhood Chopin mixed socially with three principal groups of Warsaw society. First there were professional people, academics in particular. In 1817 the Lyceum moved to the Kazimierzowski Palace, next to the newly established University of Warsaw, and the Chopins took rooms in the right annex of the palace, where they mixed constantly with university teachers. Miko?aj was part of a circle of Warsaw intelligentsia, whose salons had something of the character of literary or scientific gatherings, and it was through these contacts that the young Chopin was able to visit Berlin in 1828, his first glimpse of the world beyond Poland. Secondly there were the middle gentry (szlachta). Many of the Lyceum pupils were from this background, and several of them boarded with the Chopins. Even before he entered the Lyceum in 1823 (he was privately educated until the fourth class), Chopinbecame friendly with these boys, and several of the friendships were to prove enduring and important. Later, in his teenage years, he spent two summers (1824 and 1825) at the country home of one of the boarders, Dominik Dziewanowski. Much has been made of Chopin?s documented contacts with folk music during these youthful visits to Szafarnia. But it is possible to overrate their significance. His contribution to musical nationalism was real and important, but it did not in the end hinge on the recovery of some notionally „authentic? peasant music. The third group with which Chopin mixed was the small handful of wealthy aristocratic families at the top of the social hierarchy in Poland. Here his passport was his talent, for as a gifted prodigy (a „second Mozart?) his fame rapidly spread, and he was much in demand at the salons of the best society. He was even a regular visitor to the Belvedere Palace, home of the notoriously unpopular Viceroy of Poland, Grand Duke Constantin. Aside from such salon performances, he made occasional public appearances, including a performance of a Gyrowetz concerto at the Radziwi?? Palace in February 1818. Already by then he was a published composer. Two polonaises from 1817 have survived, and one of them (in G minor) was lithographed by Canon Izydor Cybulski. The Warsaw press responded with a eulogy: „The composer of this Polish dance, a young lad barely eight years old, is … a true musical genius?. Of his other early works, it is worth singling out a Polonaise in A major of 1821, not least because it is the first of Chopin?s surviving autographs. It was dedicated to his teacher Wojciech (Adalbert) ?ywny, one of several Czech musicians then living in Warsaw. Reports on ?ywny?s teaching are somewhat mixed, but at the very least he did Chopin the service of introducing him to Bach and to „Viennese? Classicism. He taught Chopin from 1816 to 1821, at which point he no doubt realized that his most gifted pupil needed to move on. It is likely that Chopin had private lessons with Józef Elsner for several years before entering the High School of Music (lessons were held at the university and the conservatory), of which Elsner was rector, in 1826. We know that Elsner introduced him to a harmony textbook by Karol Antoni Simon in 1823, for instance, and this may have been the trigger for sporadic lessons in music theory. In the same year he began to take organ lessons from Wilhelm Würfel, an eminent pianist on Elsner?s staff at the High School. Yet in all important respects he was self-taught as a performer. Neither ?ywny nor Elsner had much to offer on keyboard technique, and it may well be that Chopin?s highly individual approach to teaching and playing in later life resulted in part from this unorthodox background. His High School years, on the other hand, gave him a rigorous training in composition, though there is some suggestion that in the later stages of the course Elsner may have allowed him more freedom to follow his own inclinations than was usual for High School students. In any event, his final report, written in July 1829, left no doubt about Chopin?s acumen: „Chopin F., third year student, exceptional talent, musical genius?. It was clear at this point that Poland had little further to offer Chopin, and when the Education Ministry turned down an application for funds to study abroad the composer grew increasingly restless in his native city. There were concert series in Warsaw, and regular visits from virtuosos en route to St Petersburg, as well as a tolerable opera repertory at the National Theatre. But in comparison with Europe?s cultural capitals, the town had a provincial feel. That was brought home to Chopin when he paid a short visit to Vienna immediately after his graduation from the High School, especially as he managed – more by luck than planning – to secure two well-received public concerts in the Austrian capital. After the first concert, at which he played the Variations op.2, he wrote home that „everyone clapped so loudly after each variation that I had difficulty hearing the orchestral tutti?. On his return to Poland he gave numerous salon and concert performances, but the pressure to give a big public concert in Warsaw steadily mounted. In the end he succumbed and gave the F minor Concerto to an audience of 900 people on 17 March 1830. Later in the year (11 October) he followed this with a second concert at which he played the E minor Concerto. The publicity surrounding these concerts, especially the first, was distasteful to Chopin, and may well have strengthened his growing conviction that the conventional path of the public pianist-composer was not for him. On the other hand, alternative career paths were by no means obvious. This uncertainty about his future was no doubt a principal factor in the depression Chopin suffered during his final year in Warsaw. But he was also troubled by emotional insecurities of a kind that are by no means unusual among 19-year-olds. He decided that he was in love with a young singer Konstancja G?adkowska, but apparently did little to make her aware of his feelings. Indeed he found it much easier to communicate emotionally with men than with women in these days, and perhaps in later years too. Before his premature death in 1828, Chopin?s school friend Jan Bia?ob?ocki had been his principal confidant. That role was quickly taken over by another friend from the Lyceum years, Tytus Woyciechowski, and it was in letters to Tytus that Chopin poured out his heart over Konstancja. The letters reveal him as emotionally fragile and indecisive, all too ready to lean on his more robust and self-assured friend. Fittingly, it was in the company of Tytus that he finally ventured on a much planned (and often postponed) journey to Vienna on 1 November 1830, though at the time he had no reason to think that it would be his last contact with Poland. 2. New frontiers: 1830–34. The intention was to embark on a European tour, with Vienna as first stop. In the end Chopin stayed for eight months in the Habsburg capital. One week after their arrival, the youths had news of the Warsaw uprising, which had been sparked off by an ill-judged attempt to assassinate the Grand Duke Constantin. Tytus immediately returned to play his part, leaving Chopin to fend for himself in a city where Poles were no longer welcome. Unsurprisingly, he now found it virtually impossible to arrange a concert of any importance and whiled away his time rather aimlessly with a small circle of new and old friends, including the Malfatti family (Dr Malfatti had been a close friend of Beethoven), one of his fellow students from Warsaw, Tomasz Nidecki, the young Czech violinist Josef Slavík and the cellist Josef Merk. His nostalgia for Poland is evident in letters to his new confidant Jan Matuszyński, then a medical student in Warsaw, and, if the language is at times excessive, the sentiments were no doubt real enough: „I curse the moment of my departure?. It seems that he had considered returning with Tytus but had been dissuaded from doing so by his friend, partly on the grounds that his contribution to the Polish cause could best be made in other ways. Several of Chopin?s friends (including his teacher Elsner) were hopeful that he would one day create a great Polish opera, which might do justice to the national plight. He himself was aware that his talents lay elsewhere, but it does seem that following the uprising his attitude to „Polishness? in music changed in significant ways. It was in Vienna that he wrote the first nine mazurkas that he himself released for publication, as opp.6 and 7, and it was through these that the genre was comprehensively defined. Perhaps more significantly, it was in Vienna that he stopped composing the salon polonaises of his early years, pieces barely distinguishable in style from the polonaises of Hummel, Weber and other non-Polish virtuosos. When he returned to the polonaise several years later he was able to redefine it as a genre, allowing it to take on a quite new, explicitly nationalist, significance. It goes without saying that Chopin?s music cannot be confined by a nationalist aesthetic, but that it played a part in the development of cultural nationalism, and not only in Poland, is beyond question. On 20 July 1831 Chopin finally left Vienna, following difficulties in securing a passport from the Russian authorities. He stayed in Munich for a month and then proceeded, by way of Stuttgart, to Paris. The two weeks spent in Stuttgart were among the darkest of Chopin?s life, as his diary entries reveal. Even byChopin?s standards, it was a period of agonizing indecision. He was far from friends and family, and he was painfully conscious that he was dependent still on funds from his father. As yet he had shown little evidence that he could establish a reputation beyond Warsaw, though at the same time he was all too well aware of the limitations of musical life in Poland. It was while in Stuttgart that he learnt of the failure of the uprising, and he gave vent to his feelings in an extraordinary, barely coherent outpouring of grief in his album. „O God! You are there! You are there and yet you do not take vengeance! … Oh father, so this is how you are rewarded in old age! Mother, sweet suffering mother, you saw your daughter [the youngest child Emilia] die, and now you watch the Russian marching in over her grave to oppress you!? To return to Poland was now out of the question, and a few days after the „Stuttgart diary? he was in Paris. 【2】 1. In his homeland: 1810–30. Chopin was the second of four children born to Miko?aj Chopin and Tekla Justyna Krzy?anowska; according to the register of births his birth date was 22 February, but he and others always gave the date as 1 March. His parents met in 1802, when Miko?aj, a Frenchman from Lorraine, was employed by Countess Justyna Skarbek as a tutor for her son (later to be Chopin?s godfather) at her estate in ?elazowa Wola, some 45 km west of Warsaw. Chopin?s mother had been sent to the Skarbeks while still a girl. She was a distant relative and acted as a companion and housekeeper for Countess Justyna. The couple married in 1806 and remained with the Skarbek family until 1810, leaving for Warsaw when Chopin was seven months old. Miko?aj had secured a post at the recently established Lyceum, housed in the Saxon Palace, and for more than six years the Chopins lived in an apartment in the right wing of the palace. They were a respected family, and reasonably well connected socially, not least because Miko?aj was shrewd enough to cultivate the right people and to avoid offending those in positions of authority. It was a staunchly middle-class household, committed to a sound education, a well-developed sense of morality and an ethos of self-improvement. All four children benefited from a lively cultural milieu in which literary and musical interests were fostered. In early childhood Chopin mixed socially with three principal groups of Warsaw society. First there were professional people, academics in particular. In 1817 the Lyceum moved to the Kazimierzowski Palace, next to the newly established University of Warsaw, and the Chopins took rooms in the right annex of the palace, where they mixed constantly with university teachers. Miko?aj was part of a circle of Warsaw intelligentsia, whose salons had something of the character of literary or scientific gatherings, and it was through these contacts that the young Chopin was able to visit Berlin in 1828, his first glimpse of the world beyond Poland. Secondly there were the middle gentry (szlachta). Many of the Lyceum pupils were from this background, and several of them boarded with the Chopins. Even before he entered the Lyceum in 1823 (he was privately educated until the fourth class), Chopinbecame friendly with these boys, and several of the friendships were to prove enduring and important. Later, in his teenage years, he spent two summers (1824 and 1825) at the country home of one of the boarders, Dominik Dziewanowski. Much has been made of Chopin?s documented contacts with folk music during these youthful visits to Szafarnia. But it is possible to overrate their significance. His contribution to musical nationalism was real and important, but it did not in the end hinge on the recovery of some notionally „authentic? peasant music. The third group with which Chopin mixed was the small handful of wealthy aristocratic families at the top of the social hierarchy in Poland. Here his passport was his talent, for as a gifted prodigy (a „second Mozart?) his fame rapidly spread, and he was much in demand at the salons of the best society. He was even a regular visitor to the Belvedere Palace, home of the notoriously unpopular Viceroy of Poland, Grand Duke Constantin. Aside from such salon performances, he made occasional public appearances, including a performance of a Gyrowetz concerto at the Radziwi?? Palace in February 1818. Already by then he was a published composer. Two polonaises from 1817 have survived, and one of them (in G minor) was lithographed by Canon Izydor Cybulski. The Warsaw press responded with a eulogy: „The composer of this Polish dance, a young lad barely eight years old, is … a true musical genius?. Of his other early works, it is worth singling out a Polonaise in A major of 1821, not least because it is the first of Chopin?s surviving autographs. It was dedicated to his teacher Wojciech (Adalbert) ?ywny, one of several Czech musicians then living in Warsaw. Reports on ?ywny?s teaching are somewhat mixed, but at the very least he did Chopin the service of introducing him to Bach and to „Viennese? Classicism. He taught Chopin from 1816 to 1821, at which point he no doubt realized that his most gifted pupil needed to move on. It is likely that Chopin had private lessons with Józef Elsner for several years before entering the High School of Music (lessons were held at the university and the conservatory), of which Elsner was rector, in 1826. We know that Elsner introduced him to a harmony textbook by Karol Antoni Simon in 1823, for instance, and this may have been the trigger for sporadic lessons in music theory. In the same year he began to take organ lessons from Wilhelm Würfel, an eminent pianist on Elsner?s staff at the High School. Yet in all important respects he was self-taught as a performer. Neither ?ywny nor Elsner had much to offer on keyboard technique, and it may well be that Chopin?s highly individual approach to teaching and playing in later life resulted in part from this unorthodox background. His High School years, on the other hand, gave him a rigorous training in composition, though there is some suggestion that in the later stages of the course Elsner may have allowed him more freedom to follow his own inclinations than was usual for High School students. In any event, his final report, written in July 1829, left no doubt about Chopin?s acumen: „Chopin F., third year student, exceptional talent, musical genius?. It was clear at this point that Poland had little further to offer Chopin, and when the Education Ministry turned down an application for funds to study abroad the composer grew increasingly restless in his native city. There were concert series in Warsaw, and regular visits from virtuosos en route to St Petersburg, as well as a tolerable opera repertory at the National Theatre. But in comparison with Europe?s cultural capitals, the town had a provincial feel. That was brought home to Chopin when he paid a short visit to Vienna immediately after his graduation from the High School, especially as he managed – more by luck than planning – to secure two well-received public concerts in the Austrian capital. After the first concert, at which he played the Variations op.2, he wrote home that „everyone clapped so loudly after each variation that I had difficulty hearing the orchestral tutti?. On his return to Poland he gave numerous salon and concert performances, but the pressure to give a big public concert in Warsaw steadily mounted. In the end he succumbed and gave the F minor Concerto to an audience of 900 people on 17 March 1830. Later in the year (11 October) he followed this with a second concert at which he played the E minor Concerto. The publicity surrounding these concerts, especially the first, was distasteful to Chopin, and may well have strengthened his growing conviction that the conventional path of the public pianist-composer was not for him. On the other hand, alternative career paths were by no means obvious. This uncertainty about his future was no doubt a principal factor in the depression Chopin suffered during his final year in Warsaw. But he was also troubled by emotional insecurities of a kind that are by no means unusual among 19-year-olds. He decided that he was in love with a young singer Konstancja G?adkowska, but apparently did little to make her aware of his feelings. Indeed he found it much easier to communicate emotionally with men than with women in these days, and perhaps in later years too. Before his premature death in 1828, Chopin?s school friend Jan Bia?ob?ocki had been his principal confidant. That role was quickly taken over by another friend from the Lyceum years, Tytus Woyciechowski, and it was in letters to Tytus that Chopin poured out his heart over Konstancja. The letters reveal him as emotionally fragile and indecisive, all too ready to lean on his more robust and self-assured friend. Fittingly, it was in the company of Tytus that he finally ventured on a much planned (and often postponed) journey to Vienna on 1 November 1830, though at the time he had no reason to think that it would be his last contact with Poland. 2. New frontiers: 1830–34. The intention was to embark on a European tour, with Vienna as first stop. In the end Chopin stayed for eight months in the Habsburg capital. One week after their arrival, the youths had news of the Warsaw uprising, which had been sparked off by an ill-judged attempt to assassinate the Grand Duke Constantin. Tytus immediately returned to play his part, leaving Chopin to fend for himself in a city where Poles were no longer welcome. Unsurprisingly, he now found it virtually impossible to arrange a concert of any importance and whiled away his time rather aimlessly with a small circle of new and old friends, including the Malfatti family (Dr Malfatti had been a close friend of Beethoven), one of his fellow students from Warsaw, Tomasz Nidecki, the young Czech violinist Josef Slavík and the cellist Josef Merk. His nostalgia for Poland is evident in letters to his new confidant Jan Matuszyński, then a medical student in Warsaw, and, if the language is at times excessive, the sentiments were no doubt real enough: „I curse the moment of my departure?. It seems that he had considered returning with Tytus but had been dissuaded from doing so by his friend, partly on the grounds that his contribution to the Polish cause could best be made in other ways. Several of Chopin?s friends (including his teacher Elsner) were hopeful that he would one day create a great Polish opera, which might do justice to the national plight. He himself was aware that his talents lay elsewhere, but it does seem that following the uprising his attitude to „Polishness? in music changed in significant ways. It was in Vienna that he wrote the first nine mazurkas that he himself released for publication, as opp.6 and 7, and it was through these that the genre was comprehensively defined. Perhaps more significantly, it was in Vienna that he stopped composing the salon polonaises of his early years, pieces barely distinguishable in style from the polonaises of Hummel, Weber and other non-Polish virtuosos. When he returned to the polonaise several years later he was able to redefine it as a genre, allowing it to take on a quite new, explicitly nationalist, significance. It goes without saying that Chopin?s music cannot be confined by a nationalist aesthetic, but that it played a part in the development of cultural nationalism, and not only in Poland, is beyond question. On 20 July 1831 Chopin finally left Vienna, following difficulties in securing a passport from the Russian authorities. He stayed in Munich for a month and then proceeded, by way of Stuttgart, to Paris. The two weeks spent in Stuttgart were among the darkest of Chopin?s life, as his diary entries reveal. Even byChopin?s standards, it was a period of agonizing indecision. He was far from friends and family, and he was painfully conscious that he was dependent still on funds from his father. As yet he had shown little evidence that he could establish a reputation beyond Warsaw, though at the same time he was all too well aware of the limitations of musical life in Poland. It was while in Stuttgart that he learnt of the failure of the uprising, and he gave vent to his feelings in an extraordinary, barely coherent outpouring of grief in his album. „O God! You are there! You are there and yet you do not take vengeance! … Oh father, so this is how you are rewarded in old age! Mother, sweet suffering mother, you saw your daughter [the youngest child Emilia] die, and now you watch the Russian marching in over her grave to oppress you!? To return to Poland was now out of the question, and a few days after the „Stuttgart diary? he was in Paris. Programme for Chopin?s first Paris concert at the Salle Pleyel;…Two months later he was writing home in a very different frame of mind. From the start he felt at home in Paris, not least because sympathy for the Polish cause was distinctly fashionable there, and Polish émigrés were everywhere to be seen. He was overwhelmed by the cultural life of the capital, not only by the Opéra, naturally, but also by the „swarm? of pianists who were launching the new season of concerts just as Chopinarrived. He even considered a course of lessons with one of the most famous of them, Frédéric Kalkbrenner. It was partly through Kaklbrenner?s offices that Chopin arranged his first Parisian concert, which took place in the Salle Pleyel on 26 February 1832 (fig.1), and included the E minor Concerto. A supportive and perceptive review by Fétis clearly did Chopin no harm at all. Nor did his growing acceptance by other young artists and musicians in the city, including Hiller, Liszt, Berlioz and the cellist Auguste Franchomme. By the end of 1832 he was in constant demand socially, and it was partly due to this that an alternative career began to open up for him. His sources of income in the early days in Paris had come partly from his father, partly from private performances and partly from modest sales of his published music. From the winter season of 1832 onwards they came predominantly from teaching, and he was soon in such demand that he could charge exorbitant fees. For the next two years his reputation as a teacher of exceptional quality, if somewhat unconventional method, grew steadily. So too did his fame as a performer. He largely avoided public concerts, but continued to grace the salons, with their air of intimacy and exclusivity, and to these occasions his technique as a performer seemed perfectly suited. Descriptions are colourful: „The marvellous charm, the poetry and originality, the perfect freedom and absolute lucidity of Chopin?s playing cannot be described. It is perfection in every sense?. „When he embellished – which he rarely did – it was a positive miracle of refinement?. Schumann famously described Chopin, playing the A Etude op.25 no.1, „bringing out? the inner voices from the accompaniment figuration. It is noteworthy that as a composer he turned away at this time from the genres of the concert hall, the variations, rondos and concert pieces which had occupied so much of his time in Warsaw. Instead we have mazurkas, nocturnes and études, where the achievements of public and salon pianism were distilled and refined into a musical style of remarkable individuality. Moreover this music was beginning to reach the wider world. In early 1833 Chopin sold publishing rights to Maurice Schlesinger, and at the end of the year his music began to appear „simultaneously? in France (Schlesinger), England (Wessel & Co) and Germany (Kistner, and later Breitkopf & Härtel). The music sold, and critical reception was favourable.Chopin, in short, was doing well in Paris. 3. The best society: 1834–9. By late 1834 he had settled into a stable routine of teaching, composing and performing in the salons. There were, however, some more public appearances during the season of 1834–5, and of these the most important were two concerts in April: a performance of the E minor Concerto at the Théâtre Italien under Habeneck, and an appearance under the same conductor at the prestigious Société des Concerts du Conservatoire, where he chose to play the Grande polonaise brillante op.22. The critical reception of these concerts was by no means unfavourable, but it is significant that following themChopin resolutely refused invitations to appear before the wider public for several years. Increasingly he saw himself as a composer rather than a pianist-composer, and by the summer of 1835 he had consolidated the considerable achievements of his shorter genre pieces within the context of more large-scale compositions, including the two Polonaises op.26, the first Scherzo op.20 and the first Ballade op.23. The more enlightened critics were beginning to see in these works the mark of a composer of real stature – one of the most radical and penetrating musical minds of the post-Beethoven era. In this climate, thoughts of returning to Poland may have steadily receded from Chopin?s mind. At the same time he depended heavily on the Polish community in Paris, and especially on the colourful Wojciech Grzyma?a, the earnest Julian Fontana (who became his general factotum and copyist), and, closest of all, Jan Matuszyński, who had moved in with Chopin when he arrived in Paris in the spring of 1834. He undoubtedly had periods of homesickness and debated returning to see his family on numerous occasions. But despite the official amnesties he was nervous of renewing his Russian passport and placing himself at the mercy of Russian officials in Warsaw. In the end he arranged to spend a month with his parents in Karlsbad in the summer of 1835. It was on his return journey from that happy occasion that he had another reminder of home, meeting in Dresden with one of his father?s boarders Felix Wodziński. When he called on the rest of the Wodziński family, he was greatly taken with the 16-year-old Maria, whom he had last seen five years earlier in Warsaw. The following summer (1836) he spent the whole of August with the Wodzińskis at Marienbad, and on 9 September, his last night there, he proposed marriage to Maria „at the twilight hour? and was given some grounds for hope by her mother („Look after your health since everything depends on that?). The next year was a period of waiting, and it is intriguing that in the course of it Chopin?s social life intersected briefly with that of George Sand. In October the novelist had installed herself at the Hôtel de France along with Liszt and his mistress Marie d′Agoult. Chopin met her at the Liszt salon and at a soirée in his own apartment, and was decidedly unimpressed. „What an unattractive person La Sand is. Is she really a woman?? At this stage, his thoughts of love were directed only to one source, and, as the season drew to a close, he began to despair of hearing from the Wodzińskis, whom he hoped to join again for the summer months. A brief visit to London with Camille Pleyel in late July 1837 found him in „a dreadful state of mind?, and it was during that visit that a letter from Maria?s mother was forwarded to London, putting paid to any hopes of marriage. Alone and depressed, he spent the rest of the summer in Paris immersed in work, preparing some of his existing pieces for publication (including the Etudes op.25 and the Impromptu op.29) and working on new compositions such as the second Scherzo, the Nocturnes op.32 and perhaps the marche funèbre which would later be incorporated into the B minor Sonata (the precise dating of this movement is difficult to determine). The following April (1838) Chopin met George Sand again. Both of them had come through a difficult period involving a sense of loss, and this time their love was kindled almost instantly, despite the obvious contrast in their backgrounds and personalities. It was an attraction of opposites perhaps, and Sand was probably right when she later remarked that it had been above all a strong maternal instinct which had drawn her to Chopin. Whatever the truth of that, the pair were lovers by early June, and they conducted the early stages of their affair mainly within the circle of Sand?s friend, Countess Charlotte Marliani, wife of the Spanish consul in Paris. It was at the Marliani?s that they hatched a plot to spend the winter months of 1838–9 in Majorca with Sand?s two children, partly to escape the difficulties posed by her former lover Félicien Mallefille. It was an ill-considered venture, during which Chopin?s health deteriorated rapidly. For most of the time their rooms were in an old Carthusian monastery at Valldemosa, a few hours? journey from Palma, and it was accommodation which was quite unable to withstand the harsh Majorcan winter. Sand proved herself an attentive nurse, an effective tutor (to her two children) and a resourceful provider (the locals treated the group with the utmost suspicion and were reluctant even to sell them basic provisions), while at the same time carrying on with her writing. Nor was Chopin idle in Majorca. On 22 January he was able to write to Pleyel, „I am sending you myPréludes. I finished them on your little piano which arrived in the best possible conditions in spite of the sea, the bad weather and the Palma customs?. By late January Chopin?s illness had reached a shocking state, and the party was obliged to leave the island. There followed a long period of convalescence in Marseilles under the care of Dr Cauvières, a friend of the Marlianis. Although the Majorcan doctors had clearly diagnosed consumption, Cauvières, like other French doctors who attended to Chopin, insisted that there was no major illness (it is distinctly possible that different traditions of medical opinion rather than faulty diagnoses lay behind these divergent views). In any event, Chopin was consoled. In a letter to Fontana from Marseilles, he wrote specifically, „they no longer consider me consumptive?. Dr Cauvières was undoubtedly right about the need for rest, and by May Chopin was feeling bored, but very much healthier. He had already decided to spend the summer months at Sand?s home in Berry, and on 1 June he caught his first glimpse of Nohant, the manor house which would play such an important role in his life for the next eight years. 4. Years of refuge: 1839–45. A new routine now developed for Chopin, where the summers (apart from 1840) would be spent in Nohant and given over largely to composing, while the winter season would see him in Paris, teaching and occasionally playing. Whatever may be said of Chopin?s relationship with Sand, it did provide him with a stable home life – the first since his Warsaw days – and consequently with the ideal material and emotional conditions for sustained composition. Much of his greatest music was composed in Nohant, beginning with that first summer of 1839, when he wrote the Mazurkas op.41, the second of the two Nocturnes op.37, the F major Impromptu op.36 and the remaining three movements of the Bminor Sonata op.35. Yet even during his first visit there Chopin quickly became restless and constantly needed congenial company. He found himself hankering after the city, his real milieu, and when they returned to Paris in October, he remained there for the next 18 months. He took rooms at 5 rue Tronchet and spent his days teaching there until around four, before making his way to Pigalle, where Sand had rented two twin-storey summer-houses. It was a comfortable routine, which enabled Sand and Chopin to maintain a degree of independence, which both of them clearly needed. From the start there were tensions in the relationship. For one thing they moved uneasily in each other?s social circles. Sand had little time for Chopin?s „society? friends, nor for the Polish clique, Grzyma?a apart. Nor did Chopin warm to Sand?s artistic, often rather bohemian, milieu, though he made an exception of Delacroix and engaged in lengthy (and revealing) debates with him about art and music. He had little interest, moreover, in the literary and political projects which occupied so much of Sand?s time and energies; and where he did engage with them his innate conservatism stood in sharp contrast to her own radical agenda. There were other, more personal tensions. Increasingly Chopinwas prone to petty and obsessive jealousy and suspicion about Sand?s friendships with others, fuelled no doubt by her colourful reputation and by the fact that physical relations between the couple lasted for a relatively short time. It seems clear that – for Sand – a maternal feeling was the dominating factor („I look after him like a child, and he loves me like his mother?), but it is far from certain that Chopin shared this view. Unhappily much of the correspondence between them was destroyed by Sand, so our picture of the relationship remains incomplete. But it does seem that, for all the difficulties, the bond between them was powerful. As late as 1845 she was able to write, „Love me, dear angel, my dear happiness, as I love you?, scarcely the language of detachment. Although Chopin?s critical standing as a composer grew steadily during the 18 months he spent in Paris from October 1839 to June 1841, it was in reality a far from productive period. It seems that around this time he engaged in a major re-examination of his artistic aims, and it was only when he returned to Nohant for the summer of 1841 that the results became evident. Interestingly he requested treatises on counterpoint almost as soon as he arrived, and by the end of the summer he had completed the Prelude op.45, the Nocturnes op.48, and two major works, the A Ballade op.47 and the F minor Fantasy op.49. He was increasingly perfectionist about his art at this time, writing of the Ballade and Fantasy, „I cannot give them enough polish?, and his compositional process became correspondingly slow and laborious. The richness and complexity of the music of the 1840s is a testament to this, almost as though the difficulty of composition and the resistance it set up wrested from him only music of an exceptional, transcendent quality. The following summer in Nohant (1842), part of it spent in the company of Delacroix, produced some of the great works of his later years, including the Mazurkas op.50, the A major Polonaise op.53, the F minor Ballade op.52 and the E major Scherzo op.54. When Chopin and Sand returned to Paris in August 1842 they moved to new accommodation in the Square d?Orléans, close to their friends the Marlianis, and also incidentally to Kalkbrenner and Alkan. It was a satisfactory domestic arrangement. But Chopin?s health was giving cause for real concern, and the relationship with Sand was deteriorating, partly due to growing tensions within the family. All of this, together with his inability to recapture his earlier fluency in composition, contributed to his low spirits in the winter of 1843–4. But the hardest blow of all came in May 1844, when he learnt of the death of his father. Sand immediately whisked him off to Nohant, but he refused to be consoled until his sister Ludwika, to whom he had always been close, announced her intention to visit France with her husband that summer. They met in Paris in July and the visitors divided their time between there and Nohant until they departed for Poland in early September. „We are mad with happiness?, Chopin wrote. But it was not to last. The winter season brought further strains in his relationship with Sand, and when they set out for Nohant in June 1845 tensions within the family circle were beginning to come to a head. 5. Twilight: 1845–9. George Sand?s son, Maurice, was aged 22 in 1845, and increasingly resented Chopin?s place in his mother?s affections. Her daughter Solange, on the other hand, spent more and more time with Chopin. She was a fickle, not to say rebellious, teenager, a real problem for her mother, and it seems thatChopin was inclined to spoil her. The conditions were exactly right for a major family war, and the first skirmish took place in the summer of 1845. The catalyst was Augustine Brault, a distant cousin who had in effect been adopted by Sand earlier in the year. Solange, who was jealous of the girl, accused Maurice of seducing her, and Chopin sided with Solange. He was quickly told to mind his own business by Maurice, and effectively by Sand herself. Things eventually quietened down, and a temporary truce was established. But shortly the whole of literary Paris was made aware of Sand?s exasperation withChopin and of her loss of faith in the relationship. Her novel Lucrezia Floriani, published in instalments during 1846, was blatantly autobiographical and far from flattering to Chopin: „He [the central character] would be supercilious, haughty, precious, and distant. He would seem to nibble lightly enough, but would wound deeply, penetrating right to the soul. Or, if he lacked the courage to argue and mock, he would withdraw in lofty silence, sulking in a pathetic manner?. With hindsight it is difficult not to read the novel as a kind of post-mortem of their relationship. Soon the real war began. In autumn 1846 Solange became engaged to a young landowner from Berry, Fernand de Préaulx, and the match was approved by both Sand and Chopin. A few months later, on 26 February 1847, she cancelled the engagement, having succumbed to the advances of a young sculptor, Auguste Clésinger. It was apparent to Chopin (and also to Delacroix, who spent much time with the family at this point) that Clésinger was an unscrupulous character, and specifically a fortune-hunter. In April the young man pursued Solange to Nohant (while Chopin was in Paris), and scenes of considerable confusion resulted, with Solange at one point plunging herself into an icy stream because she feared pregnancy. In the end the marriage was just about forced on Sand, but she proceeded without informing Chopin. Moreover when Clésinger discovered that his financial difficulties were not going to be instantly resolved by George Sand he caused extraordinary and violent scenes at Nohant, culminating in his and Solange?s expulsion from the family home. Chopin?s subsequent contacts with the Clésingers were viewed by Sand as a betrayal, while he in his turn refused to „give up? Solange. Angry letters were written, and the outcome was, as Sand put it, „a strange conclusion to nine years of exclusive friendship?. Chopin never really recovered from this. His teaching round continued, of course, and he was even persuaded to give a public concert at the Salle Pleyel (the last three movements of the Cello Sonata op.65, with his close friend Franchomme). But before any semblance of normality could be restored in his life politics intervened in the shape of the February revolution of 1848. The reality of these events was for Chopin something to be avoided at all costs, and the means to do so were provided by his devoted Scottish pupil Jane Stirling. By April he was in London, where he gave several concerts and made his way (as usual) into the highest strata of society. He was far from at ease there, however. His health was sinking fast, he was making very little money and, above all, he was finding the attentions of Stirling and her relatives wearing in the extreme. „They want me to go and see all their friends, whereas it is as much as I can do to keep body and soul together?. In August he was in Scotland, where the social round was even more tiring, and his consumption tightened its grip. „Often in the mornings I think I will cough myself to death?, he wrote to Grzyma?a. „I am miserable at heart, but I try to deaden my feelings?. Increasingly his thoughts turned to Poland and to absent friends, and only a brief visit from his pupil Princess Marcelina Czartoryska succeeded in leavening a gloomy Scottish autumn. It became increasingly clear that Stirling hoped to replace George Sand in Chopin?s affections, though anything less amenable to Chopin would have been hard to find. He spoke the simple truth when he remarked that he was „closer to a coffin than a marriage bed?. When he returned to London in October he weighed less than 45 kg, and although he managed one final concert for the Friends of Poland, his doctors were well aware that he was in the terminal stages of his illness and recommended that he return to Paris as soon as possible. He was well looked after during those final months in Paris. Friends rallied round, Jane Stirling offered financial help and in August his sister Ludwika arrived with her husband and daughter, providing just the family atmosphere that Chopin craved. As the word quickly spread that he was dying, friends and acquaintances gathered constantly in his new rooms in the Place Vendôme. Pauline Viardot remarked cynically that „all the grand Parisian ladies considered itde rigueur to faint in his room.? Then, on 12 October, Alexander Jelowicki, an acquaintance from Warsaw days, who had since taken orders, persuaded him to partake of the last sacrament. Five days later, in the presence of Solange and his pupil Adolphe Gutmann, Chopin died. 6. Formative influences. Chopin?s earliest compositions, especially his polonaises, variation sets and rondos, clearly register the influence of the „brilliant style? of public pianism associated with composers such as Hummel, Weber, Moscheles and Kalkbrenner, among others. The keyboard polonaise reigned supreme in the salons of early 19th-century Poland, and it was usual for young composers to cut their teeth on it.Chopin?s early „brilliant? polonaises, which have little in common with the later „heroic? works composed in Paris (the only ones the composer himself chose to publish), indicate that in a very short time he managed to assimilate many of the standard materials of bravura pianism. Essentially they are essays in virtuoso figuration and exuberant right-hand ornamentation, complete with hand crossings, wide leaps, trills and double trills, arpeggio-based passage-work, and other stock-in-trade devices of the pianist-composer. Excluding the two earliest, written in his eighth year, there are seven solo polonaises of this kind composed in Warsaw, and we may add the Polonaise brillante op.3 for cello and piano. They are pieces of considerable accomplishment. But they are hardly „Chopinesque?, and they give the lie to any notion that Chopin?s unique sound world was somehow present from the start, that it appeared from nowhere, fully formed. The idiomatic figuration in these works was in fact closely modelled on an extensive repertory of post-Classical concert music, and it reached its zenith in theGrande polonaise brillante op.22 for piano and orchestra, which must rate as one of the peaks of the „brilliant style?. The variation sets, beginning with the Introduction and Variations on a German Air („Der Schweizerbub?), belong to the same world, and again they include orchestral concert pieces, the „Là ci darem? Variations op.2 and the Fantasy on Polish Airs op.13, in both of which we can hear pre-echoes of the mature Chopin. (The four-hand Variations on a Theme of Moore, and the Souvenir de Paganiniare of disputed authenticity.) The final essay in this genre, the Variations brillantes op.12 on a theme of Hérold, was composed in Paris in 1832, but its conception and execution is very much in line with the Warsaw pieces, underlining that for Chopin the genre was inseparably linked to the virtuoso style. And this was also true of his involvement with the independent rondo. Following the Rondo op.1 he composed the Rondo à la mazur op.5 in 1826–7, the Rondo op.73a (later arranged for two pianos) in 1828, and the Rondo à la krakowiak op.14 for piano and orchestra in the same year. Again there was one final essay in the genre (op.16), composed in Paris in 1832 and belonging stylistically with the Warsaw-period music. In all these pieces, including the polonaises, we witness a young musician preparing himself for a career as a pianist-composer, with the expectation of parading his wares in the salons and on the concert platforms of Europe?s cultural capitals. Bravura figuration and ornamental melody, together with a formal process which squares the one off against the other, lie at the heart of this musical style. These were the essential ingredients of the post-Classical repertory, and they represent the starting-point for Chopin?s musical thought. His debt to post-Classical pianist-composers in these early years represents a level of influence which might be characterized as „direct emulation?, a modelling process which is common enough in the formative stages of any composer?s creative evolution. A rather different level of influence is invoked by Italian opera and Polish folk music, both of which were much loved by Chopin during the Warsaw period and beyond. Here the influence was indirect, in that it involved a transference of stylistic features from one medium to another, and thus a greater element of interpretation. Chopin was steeped in Italian (and to a lesser extent French) opera from an early age and, like many pianist-composers, saw a vital link between vocal bel canto and piano lyricism. Much of his ornamentation was transparently vocal in origin, stylizing the portamentos, fioriture and cadenzas which were part of the singer?s art. Likewise his tendency to sweeten the melody with parallel 3rds and 6ths is strongly reminiscent of operatic duet textures. Such features were already prominent in the music of the Warsaw period, culminating in the first of the nocturnes (the E minor, published posthumously as op.72 no.1). Admittedly the operatic influence was partly mediated through existing keyboard repertories, especially that of John Field. But at a deeper level it left its mark on Chopin?s whole approach to melody and melodic development. Characteristically he favoured the decoration, elaboration and variation of melodic „arias? rather than thematic dissection and reintegration on the German model. In his early mazurkas (and also in several of the little-known songs) Chopin turned to yet another musical background, the folk music of the Mazovian plains of central Poland, and especially to the rhythmic and modal patterns, the characteristic melodic intonations and the duda drones of the mazur,kujawiak and oberek. Here again the influence was both direct and indirect. Chopin had some personal contact with Polish folk music, but mostly it would have been mediated through salon dance pieces and songs im Volkston which would have been familiar to him from his earliest years in Warsaw. Either way the early mazurkas clearly evoke the world of the traditional folk ensemble of central Poland, where a melody instrument (violin or fujarka, a high-pitched shepherd?s pipe) would often be accompanied by a drone (duda or gagda, a Polish bagpipe) and/or a rhythmic pulse (basetla or basy, a string bass). At a very early stage, Chopin made this genre his own. Even in youthful pieces, such as the „improvised? mazurkas (the B major and G major C[homiński and] T[ur?o] 100, 101), whose first versions were published in 1826, the unmistakable character of the mature mazurka is discernible. It is all the more marked in the three mazurkas later collected by Julian Fontana as op.68 nos.1–3, and especially in no.2, with its characteristic Lydian 4th, bourdon 5th pedal and iconoclastic harmonies (in the closing section of the trio). There is a further level of influence, already apparent in the Warsaw-period compositions. This involved a radical reworking of forms, procedures and materials drawn from earlier masters, and especially from the Viennese Classical composers and Bach. Chopin?s training at the Warsaw Conservatory involved studies in 18th-century counterpoint (Albrechtsberger and Kirnberger) as well as in the practice of sonata composition. Elsner liked to start his pupils off with polonaises and then to move through independent rondos and variation sets to sonatas, which they would usually begin at the end of the first year. Hence the Sonata op.4, completed in 1828 and dedicated to Elsner. The sonata?s monothematic first movement, with its unusual (possibly Reicha-inspired) formal and tonal organization – the exposition is monotonal – is entirely characteristic of Elsner and his students. Significantly we find an equally unorthodox tonal scheme in the Piano Trio op.8 (1828–9), again a monotonal exposition and a reprise in which the second group modulates to the dominant minor. In other words, the weight of tonal activity is transferred from the early to the later stages of a work. In due course Chopin carried Elsner?s formal and tonal principles through into his mature music, where it changed in radical ways the function of the reprise, and therefore the underlying shape, or „plot?, of sonatas and sonata-influenced works such as ballades. There is already a suggestion of this in the first movements of the two major works of the late Warsaw period, the piano concertos, the first extended compositions of Chopin to have an established place in the repertory. (A third concerto was left incomplete and later found its way into the Allegro de concert op.46.) Although these are „brilliant? concertos in the mould of Hummel, Field and Weber, they also represent something of a reworking of an earlier Mozartian model. Schumann went so far as to claim that „if a genius such as Mozart were to appear today, he would write Chopin concertos rather than Mozart ones?. The concertos, in other words, mediate between the Classical and the post-Classical, between Mozart and the brilliant style. This is apparent in the formal organization of the F minor Concerto op.21, the first to be written. The relation between solo and accompaniment is closer to Hummel than to Mozart. So too is the duality of lyrical and configurative elements (poetry and display) within each tonal region, already at some remove from Mozart?s delicate equilibrium between a ritornello-concertante principle and a developmental-symphonic principle. Yet right from the opening prelude, which embeds its procession of contrasted materials within an apparently seamless flow, this movement owes something to Mozart directly as well as something to Mozart by way of Hummel. And much the same is true of the slow movement. This has been described as Chopin?s first „nocturne?, but the essential point is that, in its internal phrase and sentence structures, it is at least as much a transformation of Mozart as a continuation of Field. Chopin himself paid tribute to Mozart in a famous comparison with Beethoven: „Where [Beethoven] is obscure and seems lacking in unity … the reason is that he turns his back on eternal principles; Mozart never?. Elsewhere he made it plain that these eternal principles included strict counterpoint, and in this respect his teacher was Bach. The influence of Bach, already apparent in the contrapuntal surface of several of the very early works, including the Sonata op.4, came to the fore in two pieces composed right at the end of Chopin?s Warsaw period, the first and second of the op.10 Etudes. Already in themoto perpetuo figuration of these pieces, where linear elements emerge discreetly through the surface pattern without disturbing the underlying harmonic purpose, we see indications of how Chopin would in due course reformulate Bach?s legacy. Moreover in their formal organization – a unitary process of intensification and resolution (achieved through harmony and line) rather than dialectic of tonal contrast and resolution – the études reach back across the Classical era to Baroque antecedents. In the music of his full maturity this debt to Bach gained even greater significance as a direct motivator of Chopin?s creativity, and it will be necessary to return to it shortly. 7. Piano writing. It is worth noting that Chopin had already reached full maturity as a composer before he arrived in Paris in the autumn of 1831. Four of the familiar Chopin genres – the mazurka, nocturne, étude and waltz – were already in place, and in something like their mature formulation, before he left Warsaw. They were consolidated in Vienna and in the early Paris years by the earliest pieces in these genres released for publication by Chopin himself. These included the Mazurkas opp.6 and 7, composed in Vienna, the Nocturnes opp.9 and 15, the remainder of the op.10 Etudes, which were completed in Paris in 1832, and the E major Waltz op.18, composed two years later, somewhat on Weber?s formal model. By presenting his Viennese mazurkas to the publisher in conventional sets of four and five compatible pieces (opp.6 and 7), Chopin crystallized the genre and in a sense defined it, investing the salon dance piece with a complexity and sophistication which immediately transcended habitual meanings. Here, and in the early Paris sets (opp.17 and 24), he established a new model for the stylization of folk idioms, marrying elements of peasant music with the most „advanced? techniques of contemporary art music in a cross-fertilization which would set the tone for Slavonic nationalists generally in the later 19th century. From this point onwards he carved out for the mazurka a special niche in his output, with a singular repertory of technical and expressive devices. It is fitting that his nationalism should have been expressed thus, through the renovation of a simple dance piece rather than through the more usual channels of opera and programmatic reference. In a similar way, Chopin?s engagement with an expressive aesthetic was filtered into the piano nocturne rather than made specific in the art song. When John Field published his first three nocturnes in 1812, neither the title „nocturne? nor the „nocturne style? were in any sense novelties, but they had not yet been drawn together to form a genre. By the 1820s, however, there was some measure of generic consistency in the nocturne, especially among composers associated with Field. Central to the genre was the idea of vocal imitation, whether of French romance or Italian aria, and this was facilitated by the development of the sustaining pedal, enabling those wide-spread arpeggiations supporting an ornamental melody which we recognize today as the archetype of the style. To some extent, then,Chopin?s early E minor Nocturne already belonged to a tradition, but his op.9 set effectively formalized that tradition. If we were to speak of a normative design, it would be one which allows an ornamental aria (subject to cumulative variation) to alternate with a sequentially developing, tension-building theme. In reality, however, no two of the Chopin nocturnes are alike, and already in the op.15 set it became clear that the title „nocturne?, once its connotative values had been established, could attach itself to music of highly varied formal and generic schemes, and even – as in op.15 no.3, which effectively confronts a „mazurka? and a „chorale? – to pieces which seem blatantly to defy the expectations of the genre. The major achievement of this creative period was the set of 12 Etudes op.10, whose composition spanned the Warsaw, Vienna and early Paris years. They have special significance within Chopin?s output as the opus which most clearly signified his transcendence of the brilliant style, confronting virtuosity directly, but conquering it on home ground. The tradition of the étude had developed at the turn of the century as part of a much wider institutionalization of instrumental pedagogy, notably at the Paris Conservatoire; indeed there is a real sense in which the étude was a creation of the Conservatoire. By the 1830s it had already emerged as the principal channel for artistic virtuosity, joining forces with emergent „lyric? and „character? pieces to challenge the sonata as the archetypal keyboard genre. Unlike the virtuoso études of Liszt and Thalberg, Chopin?s op.10 retains a link with the „school étude?, addressing one principal technical problem in each piece and crystallizing that problem in a single shape or figure. But it goes without saying that he achieved a balance between technical and artistic aims which was unprecedented in the earlier history of the genre. As Schumann remarked, „imagination and technique share dominion side by side?. The études are a workshop in Chopin?s piano technique, which was by common consent strikingly individual, predicated on a „natural? hand shape (with B major as the paradigmatic scale), and on an acceptance, controversial at the time, of the imbalance and functional independence of the fingers. The third of the op.10 Etudes, a study in the control of legato melody and in its appropriate phrasing, perfectly exemplifies this, and an adequate performance of it would heed Chopin?s caution that „the goal is not to play everything with an equal sound, [but rather] it seems to me, a well-formed technique that can control and vary a beautiful sound quality?. He believed in a flexible wrist and supple hand, so that the wrist and not the arm is in movement. The first of the études, with its massive, striding arpeggios, would have been performed by him in just this way, and of course it further cultivates a capacity to use the pedal to best effect (as does the third étude in a rather different way). „The correct employment [of the pedals] remains a study for life?. Moreover, in the interests of fluidity of movement and evenness of tone he was prepared to sanction unorthodox fingerings, as in the detailed autograph fingerings in the second étude. He was happy, for instance, to use the thumb on the black keys not only in the fifth („black key?) étude, where we would of course expect it, but also in the sixth, where it helps the performer maintain the legato of the countermelody alongside the sustained bass notes. Chopin?s mature piano style was defined above all in these works, bridging the final year in Warsaw and the early years in Paris. It remains essentially distinct from that of other bravura pianist-composers of the early 19th century, as it does from the lyrical character pieces of a Prague–Vienna axis (Tomášek, Vo?íšek, Schubert) and the „symphonic? piano style of Beethoven, Schumann and Brahms. Drawing together aspects of Viennese bravura writing (Mozart, Hummel) and a lyrical manner derived from French and English schools (Adam, Clementi, Field), it achieved a unique synthesis which in turn laid the foundations for later piano styles, notably in French and Russian music of the late 19th century. More directly than any of his predecessors, Chopin derived his piano writing from the instrument itself (its uniformity of sound, its diminuendo on every note, its capacity for dynamic shading and its sustaining pedal), and from the physical properties of the two hands (the limitations of compass within each of them, and the absence of any such limitation between them). Hence the idiomatic counterpoint which characterizes his textures, and their separation into two layers, collaborating in many different ways, but above all functioning as „sonoristic counterweights?. Within that global approach we can identify three very broad categories of piano texture in these early works. The mazurkas and waltzes represent the first and most straightforward category, where the basic texture is derived from the functional dance, though Chopin achieved a remarkable diversity of keyboard layout even in apparently simple textures such as these. The nocturnes form a second category, comprising an ornamental cantilena with widespread broken chord accompaniment. Characteristically there is a delicate balance here between „vocal? substance and „pianistic? ornament, and often a blurring of distinction between the two, as parallel extracts from the F major Nocturne op.15 no.2 demonstrate (ex.1). Fundamental to this texture is a rhythmically stable accompaniment layer which promotes continuity, filling the „gaps? in the melody and thus helping to simulate vocal legato, supporting it when it takes off in flights of ornamental fancy, and binding together its impulsive contrasts of register and dynamics. The characteristic role of the accompaniment layer is interactive rather than supportive (there is on occasion a motivic relationship between the two layers), emphasizing that the „Chopin melody? is first and foremost a texture and not just a line. Ex.1 Nocturne in F major op.15 no.2 The études make up a third category of texture, one whose main component is figuration of numerous kinds. The first two études set the terms for the main categories of figuration, generated respectively by harmony (a widespread arpeggiation) and melody (an intricate chromatic scalar movement), and these categories are replicated elsewhere in the op.10 collection. At the same time Chopin?s textures in op.10 often blur the boundaries between melody, harmony and figuration, and even between principal voice and accompaniment. This interpenetration of functions tends in two opposing directions, towards a differentiated pianistic counterpoint on the one hand, and an undifferentiated sonority on the other. These tendencies can be illustrated by the sixth and third études respectively. Superficially the texture in op.10 no.6 is a „melody? and „accompaniment?, but in reality the four „voices? balance each other in a counterpoint which is perfectly moulded to the piano, where independent lines can be added or lost with no threat to the contrapuntal flow nor to the illusion of a homogeneous texture (ex.2). Conversely, in the middle section of op.10 no.3 the music splinters into symmetrically mirrored figurations which threaten (but only threaten) to lose touch with an underlying harmonic foundation (ex.3). In such passages we sense harmony dissolving into „colour?, to use a common metaphor. Ex.2 Etude in E minor op.10 no.6 Ex.3 Etude in E major op.10 no.3 8. Musical style. It was through these mazurkas, nocturnes and études that Chopin?s piano music acquired its unmistakable sound. While that sound may be explained on one level as a transformation of early 19th-century models, it can also be viewed as a recreation, in terms entirely idiomatic for piano, of Bach?s ornamental melody, figuration and counterpoint. All three textural types had receded somewhat in the era of the Classical sonata, and they were in a sense reinvented by Chopin during his early maturity. The next stage of his creative journey was to find ways of harnessing the acquisitions of the early Paris years – in melody, figuration and harmony – to the needs of (relatively) more extended forms, and this he achieved with the Two Polonaises op.26, the first Scherzo op.20 and the first Ballade op.23. These were all composed around the same time (1834–5), and for each of the three genres there were to be three further opuses, culminating in the A major Polonaise op.53, the E major Scherzo op.54 and the F minor Ballade op.52, all composed during 1842–3. In other words the entire corpus of mature polonaises, scherzos and ballades was composed between 1834 and 1843. (Intriguingly, a similar chronology applies to the impromptus, which again consist of four opuses). By the time of his first visit to Nohant in June 1839 Chopin was about halfway through this sequence, having completed the op.40 Polonaises, the second and third Scherzos and the second Ballade. Paradoxically his interest in the epic during the late 1830s was matched by an interest in the epigrammatic. His 24 Preludes op.28 must count as one of his most radical conceptions, giving a quite new meaning to a genre title mainly associated in the early 19th century with the contemporary practice of „preluding? in extempore performance. Chopin?s pieces, however aphoristic, transcend such associations and demand rather to be regarded as works of substance and weight. Like each volume of Bach?s „48? (which Chopin brought to Majorca, where he completed the Preludes), Chopin?s pieces form a complete cycle of the major and minor keys, though the pairing is through tonal relatives (C major/A minor) rather than Bach?s tonal parallels (C major/C minor). They are the first preludes to be presented as a cycle of self-contained pieces, where each can stand alone – issuing a challenge (as Jeffrey Kallberg puts it) to „the conservative notion that small forms were artistically suspect or negligible? – while at the same time contributing to a single overriding whole, a „cycle? enriched by the complementary generic characters of its components and integrated by the tonal logic of their ordering (Kallberg, R1992). During these pre-Nohant years (1834–9) Chopin also consolidated some of the genres already established during the Vienna and early Paris years, including songs (four of those posthumously published as op.74), impromptus (op.29 in A major, the second to be composed and first to be released for publication), nocturnes (the op.27 and op.32 sets, and the first of the two op.37 pieces), waltzes (op.34), mazurkas (opp.30 and 33) and études (the twelve of op.25). It was, in short, an immensely productive period, and the music produced during it can form the basis for useful generalizations about Chopin?s musical style. We may begin by returning briefly to texture and figuration. The Etudes op.25 and Preludes op.28 extend some of the subtleties of figuration already found in op.10, and especially the tendency to inject an unprecedented density of information into apparently standard melodic and harmonic figurations from the Classical and post-Classical traditions. The blurring of function between melody and figure in the right hand and between broken chord and contrapuntal line in op.25 no.2 is characteristic (ex.4). So too is the interplay of functions within a single figuration – effectively a compound of discrete though interactive particles – in op.28 nos.1 and 8 (ex.5). The potent pairing of intricate, variegated figurations and a strong underlying harmonic structure, characteristic of these examples, amounts to a basic ingredient of the style. It is by no means unique to the études and preludes, informing even the apparently transparent, but in reality highly differentiated, melody and accompaniment textures found in the nocturnes. Ex.4 Etude in F minor op.25 no.2 Ex.5 Prelude in C major op.28 no.1; Prelude in F minor op.28 no.8 Chopin?s melodies fall into one of two general categories. The most common is the stanzaic melody, whose internal repetitions are modelled on variants of a well-established archetype, the eight-bar classical sentence (consider the second theme of op.27 no.2 (bars 10–17), with its two-bar phrase, varied repetition and four-bar liquidation). In broad stylistic terms, such melodies are often similar to, and were on occasion influenced by, those of the early 19th-century operatic aria. The second category is a freer, non-repetitive melody, unfolding continuously in the manner of operatic arioso or even recitative (as in op.25 no.7), or through a process of developing variation such as the familiar opening of op.27 no.2 (ex.6), where the expressive character of the melody results from an unpredictable placing and weighting of the kinds of appoggiaturas which were common currency for Mozart. Characteristically, the underlying regularity of the eight-bar sentence is mitigated by the internal asymmetry of its two unequal phrases, a feature often found in the morphology of Chopin?s music. The treatment (as opposed to the structure) of the Chopin melody is characterized above all by a process of cumulative variation and transformation (see the restatement of ex.6), where the melody is enriched by ornamentation, textural amplification, contrapuntal intensification, or elaboration of its accompaniment layer. This supports a general tendency to end-weighted structures, involving the enlargement or apotheosis of materials (as in the climactic re-scoring of the second theme of the G minor Ballade, or the evolutionary, goal-directed melodic extensions of the C minor Etude op.25). Ex.6 Nocturne in D major op.27 no.2 Much of the innovatory quality of Chopin?s harmonic practice amounts to either the foreground chromatic elaboration of familiar diatonic progressions or an extension (and speeding up) of the chromatic symmetries commonly found in Classical development sections. Two examples from the polonaises will serve (exx.7 and 8). In both cases the combination of an „organic? chromaticism and the local attraction of the dominant 7th harmony poses no serious threat to the security of a stable underlying diatonic anchor. In slower pieces such organic chromaticism can be powerfully expressive, as in the well-known E minor Prelude (op.28 no.4) where the opening surface chromatic succession (bars 1–13) elaborates a simple diatonic progression in the depths. In all these cases the 5th relationship is all-important on the foreground of the harmony, where it is largely without tonal significance. Intriguingly, it is used only sparingly at deeper levels of harmonic structure. The major extended works, for example, conspicuously avoid the dominant as a means of articulating larger formal divisions. Thus the first and third Scherzos, both in a minor key, move to the tonic major for their trios, while the second reverses the procedure in that the D major moves to C minor for the trio (the „tandem? of B minor and D major in this work is another feature of style in Chopin). Likewise the polonaises of opp.26 and 40 explore tonic, subdominant and submediant relationships rather than dominant, while in the first two ballades, it is 3rd-related regions which dominate the tonal organization. Ex.7 Polonaise in C minor op.40 no.2 Ex.8 Polonaise in C minor op.26 no.1 The underlying strategy in all these cases was to reserve the 5th relationship for the latest possible stage of the tonal argument, where it could function as a powerful structural dominant at the background level. And very much the same thinking informs a general tendency for Chopin to begin outside the tonic. Occasionally this means no more than opening with chord IV or V rather than I (giving an impression of starting in mid-thought), but in numerous works the overall tonal scheme is „emergent? or „directional? in character, as in the second of the op.30 Mazurkas or the A minor Prelude op.28 no.2. Usually such pieces can be described as monotonal with a non-tonic opening. But in some extended works, notably the second Scherzo and op.49 Fantasy, the structural tension between two tonal regions (admittedly tonal „relatives? in each case) is enough to suggest a two-key scheme. In the second Ballade Chopin went further. Here the alternation of F major and A minor refuses to permit a monotonal analysis, and as such the work represents a significant departure from early 19th-century structural norms. We can identify two contrasted formal tendencies in Chopin?s music, the one towards a continuous, strongly directional form, the other towards a sectionalized ternary design, an expansion of the classical three-part song form. In continuous forms the subtlety often lies in Chopin?s control of the „intensity curve? of the piece, which may well be counterpointed against its formal design – a counterpoint of dynamic shape and „spatial? pattern. This is true of miniatures such as the G minor Prelude op.28 no.12, but also applies to more extended works such as the first Ballade, where there is a calculated non-congruence between a strongly directional intensity curve and a „static? symmetrical design (in both cases it is strategies of closure which bridge the gap between shape and pattern). In sectionalized ternary designs Chopin?s concern is to achieve a balance between contrasted elements and to soften formal divisions through common motivic substance, voice-leading connections across the caesura, or (in larger works) transitional materials which mediate the contrast, as in the approach to the central „hymn? of the third scherzo. In later works, such as the Polonaise-Fantasy op.61, he demonstrates incomparable skill in sustaining a level of intensity across the extended time-span of a large ternary design, not least by strategies of concealment, where the formal functions become clear to us only after the event. 9. Genres. From 1839 until the break with George Sand, Chopin composed mainly during the summer months at Nohant. Much of the music from this period was produced in the tranquility of this setting, and it is no doubt significant that for the one year he stayed in Paris (1840) his output was exiguous – really only the Waltz op.42 and the Trois nouvelles études, commissioned by Moscheles for the second volume of his (and Fétis?s) Méthode des méthodes. In general Chopin worked more slowly during these years, a measure of his growing self-doubt and increasingly self-critical approach to composition. The early 1840s have often been described as a turning-point in his creative evolution, marked by a renewed interest in counterpoint, by a more sparing and structurally focussed ornamentation and by a strengthening command of structure. This is apparent in the very much more expansive and ambitious mazurkas dating from this period (opp.50 and 56), as well as in the nocturnes (opp.48 and 55). The last of the op.50 mazurkas, for example, is a powerful rhapsody whose contrapuntal intricacy and intensity of expression are only lightly earthed by folkloristic elements. This is a very considerable distance from the tone of the early mazurkas composed in Warsaw and Vienna. Likewise the „dissonant counterpoint? in the second of the op.55 nocturnes (ex.9) places the familiar melody and accompaniment layout of the nocturne style in a quite new light, characterized by a stratification of rhythmically differentiated lines which is far removed from the relative textural simplicity of the early nocturnes. Ex.9 Nocturne in E major op.55 no.2 A similar ambition attends the major extended works composed during these Nohant years. They include two polonaises (opp.44 and 53), two ballades (opp.47 and 52) and a scherzo op.54, as well as the second and third piano sonatas (opp.35 and 58), the Fantasy (op.49) and the Berceuse (op.57). The B minor Sonata op.35 was completed during that first summer in Nohant (the slow movement had been drafted at least two years earlier). Here Chopin effectively used the sonata genre as a framework within which the achievements of his earlier music – the figurative patterns of the études and preludes, the cantilenas of the nocturnes, and even the periodicity of the dance pieces – might be drawn together. In this sense the work might be seen as a kind of dialogue between the public pianism of the brilliant style and the German sonata principle, though it should be noted that, as in his earlier essays in sonata form, the first movement?s reprise is distinctly unorthodox. The later B minor Sonata op.58 takes a step closer to the German tradition, achieving in its first movement in particular a process of continuous development and transformation of motifs, a close integration of melody and accompaniment, and a density of contrapuntal working which are in every way worthy of Brahms. HereChopin tackled the historical archetype of the most celebrated and prestigious of classical forms on its own terms, so to speak, and emerged victorious. Significantly the earlier sets of two polonaises (opp.26 and 40) were replaced at this time by single, more extended works (opp.44 and 53), in which Chopin achieved an epic quality through a kind of essentialism, an elemental reduction of the musical materials to dance archetypes – rhythmic and melodic – stripped of all „inessentials?. The op.53 Polonaise is one of a group of three major works dating from 1842–3, all of them sharply contrasted in character. Thus the fourth scherzo (op.54) is as calm, benign and untroubled as the Polonaise is fierce and heroic. In particular it is concerned with balance and proportion, laying out spacious, relatively self-contained paragraphs which maintain interest over a lengthy time span through a delicate juxtaposition of contrasts. Different again is the fourth Ballade (op.52), by common consent one of Chopin?s masterpieces, and one of the masterpieces of 19th-century piano music in general. Few of his other extended works can match it in formal sophistication and in the powerful goal-directed sweep of its musical ideas. Here Chopinbrought to summation the narrative techniques associated above all with the ballades, involving an interplay of strongly characterized generic themes, a transformation of conventional (sonata-based) formal successions and a powerful drama of large-scale tonal relationships. These were seminal, culminating compositions in Chopin?s development, triumphantly confirming the essential elements of their respective genres, as he understood and (re)defined them. In each case his transformation of the existing generic associations was radical, though it still retained some contact with original meanings. At the same time the transformation resulted in new, relatively clearly defined and consistent generic definitions. Thus at the heart of all four Chopin scherzos lies a reinterpretation of the element of contrast essential to the conventional genre, such that the central formal contrast is built into the detailed substance of the work. Likewise all four ballades transform the sonata-form archetype in such a way that the resolution of tonal tension is delayed until the latest possible moment. This in turn helps to condition the larger „plots? of these works, which may well have been inspired by the tradition of the literary ballad. In a word, the ballades take on the character of a story by invoking and then modifying conventional schemata, and by focussing the events through a distinctive (generic) characterization of themes, the „personae? of the drama. And in most cases the story culminates in that „whirlwind of musical reckoning? so characteristic of the poetic ballad. Even miniatures such as the four impromptus exhibit a measure of generic stability, reinforced by obvious commonalities in their musical material. A comparable stability might be demonstrated for the other Chopin genres, and again the connotative values of the titles echo themes in the wider repertory: improvisation in the prelude and fantasy, vocal transcription and imitation in the nocturne. In short, Chopin?s achievement was to give generic authority to the free-ranging devices of an emergent, early 19th-century piano repertory, and that at a time of considerable permissiveness, when titles were used casually and interchangeably, and often emanated from the publisher rather than the composer. Where such stability exists, genre can take on a powerfully communicative role, functioning somewhat as a contract between composer and listener, a contract which may be purposefully broken. Genres „consist of orienting frameworks, interpretative procedures, and sets of expectations?, as William Hanks has argued, and as such they may be manipulated for a wide variety of communicative ends („Discourse Genres in a Theory of Practice?,American Ethnologist, xiv, 1987, pp.666–92). One of the ways in which Chopin commonly activated this communicative code was through allusions to genres other than the main controlling genre of a piece. Thus his music draws frequently upon vocal genres, especially from opera, and upon such popular genres as march, funeral march, waltz, mazurka, barcarolle and chorale. Of these, the most common referent is the waltz, which constantly slides in and out of more ambitious contexts, as in the first ballade (bar 138ff) or the second scherzo (bar 334ff). There is often a similar role for the mazurka, the nocturne and even the prelude. Thus the A minor Mazurka op.17 no.4 plays host to the nocturne, while the G minor Nocturne op.15 no.3 plays host to the mazurka – and also to the chorale. Perhaps it is not far-fetched to claim that in this sense the first of the 24 Preludes plays host to the prelude. It was partly through such generic referents that 19th-century critics arrived at the descriptive and programmatic interpretations which we tend to dismiss today. A comparison between the central march of the F major Impromptu op.36 and contemporary operatic choruses, for instance, would provide some rationale for Niecks?s description of a „procession? (H3/1902, ii, p.260), and even for Huneker?s reference to a „cavalcade? (H1900, p.134). Viewed in this way, genre allows us to cut across the boundaries of individual works, forging links with other moments in Chopin and beyond. The infusion of popular genres into the introduction of the Fantasy op.49, for instance, enables us to make connections with the march from op.36 as well as with the improvisatory prelude of op.28 no.3 (ex.10). These connections would in turn lead us beyond Chopin to (respectively) the choruses of grand opéra and the common practice of contemporary improvisation. And it is from this base that an additional layer of meaning – one which involves some reference to extra-musical designates – might be adduced in an interpretation of the Fantasy. 10. Sources and editions. During his final years Chopin reached a new plateau of creative achievement, marked by an eloquent simplicity which severely excludes the extraneous and the gratuitously ornamental. Even his late songs, Nie ma czego trzeba („There is no Need?) and Melodya („Melody?), come within sight of a lied aesthetic, unlike those of his earlier years, which remain closer to late 18th-century popular traditions. A new-found simplicity is also discernible in the mazurkas composed during these final years, the three of op.63 (the last published during his lifetime), the second and fourth of the posthumously published op.67, and the sketched mazurka which was reconstructed and published as op.68 no.4 (this latter, for many years considered Chopin?s last work, was almost certainly drafted in 1846 and abandoned in favour of op.63 no.2). The late waltzes, a single piece of relatively traditional cast (the A minor, CT 224), and a complete set, op.64, composed in 1847, continue the theme of inspired simplicity, with op.64 in particular drawing the familiar gestures of the earlier waltzes into a miniature compendium of all the grace, elegance and spontaneity we associate with the Chopin waltz. With such pieces Chopinredefined the category „salon music?. Like the waltzes, the late nocturnes consist of a posthumously published piece (the C minor, CT 128) and a set, the Two Nocturnes op.62. These latter, composed in 1846, represent the pinnacle ofChopin?s achievement in the genre. In the B major he finds once more an inspired simplicity of utterance, where a melody of exquisite restraint conceals subtleties of phrase structure (a kind of musical prose, with metrical dislocations of the melodic repetitions) and of counterpoint (an accompaniment whose motivic fragments interact delicately with the principal melodic layer). Throughout the opening and middle sections, Chopin exercises the greatest possible restraint in the ornamentation of his basic material, so that the reprise, presented in trilled notes which open out into magnificent fioriture, can make its effect – truly one of the supreme achievements of Chopin?s ornamental melody. In the E major Nocturne, he approaches a kind of unendliche Melodie, where exact repetition is kept to a minimum, in favour of a process of discreet variation. The middle section here employs a form of differentiated counterpoint of a kind commonly found in the later music, where tension–release patterns arise as much from dissonance–consonance relationships within a contrapuntal texture as from underlying harmonic progressions. It is striking that in these very late works Chopin arrived – within the constraints of his own highly individual stylistic world – at something akin to both the „developing variation? of Brahms and Schoenberg and the „dissonant counterpoint? of Mahler. Three major extended works were composed during these final years, the Barcarolle op.60, Polonaise-Fantasy op.61 and Cello Sonata op.65. All three are strikingly original, departing significantly fromChopin?s own „tradition? to tackle novel problems of form, genre and even (in the case of op.65) medium. This is entirely symptomatic of the renovative approach to composition he adopted in his final years, and it is perhaps not surprising that the late works caused him endless difficulties. This is shown not only by his correspondence but by the manuscript sources. What few sketches we have tend to be for the later music, including illuminating worksheets for the Berceuse, the Polonaise-Fantasy and the Cello Sonata. Chopin?s more usual practice was to bypass this sketching process and to proceed directly from the piano to an engraver?s manuscript (Stichvorlage). In numerous cases, however, these would have to be abandoned, and such „rejected public manuscripts? often form a valuable category of source. (We learn much, for instance, from abandoned manuscripts of the C minor Polonaise op.40 no.2, the F Impromptu op.36, the fourth Ballade and the op.59 Mazurkas.) Even those fair copies which were sent to the publisher often contain evidence of several „layers? of compositional process, something Saint-Saëns pointed out long ago in a path-breaking study of the autograph of the second Ballade. If we add the presentation autographs (some of them written many years after the piece had been composed), scribal copies, often with autograph glosses, and first editions with autograph corrections, we begin to sense something of the complexity of the manuscript tradition in Chopin. Nor are things much easier when we come to the early printed sources. Most of Chopin?s music was published simultaneously in France, Germany and England. While Schlesinger in Paris characteristically worked from an autograph, the German and English publishers followed several options (autograph, scribal copy or proof sheets). This, combined with the fact that Chopin could exercise little control over the publishing process outside Paris, resulted in numerous discrepancies of text between the three first editions. Moreover the print runs were usually small, and it was common for later „impressions? (tirages) to appear with the same plate numbers, but with changes to the text; in the case of the French edition, this evolution of text may, at least in some cases, have been condoned or even instigated by Chopin himself. It is hardly surprising, given the multiplicity of sources and the textual discrepancies between them, that the subsequent publication history of Chopin?s music has been fraught with problems. Following the posthumous publications of 1855 and 1859 (opp.66–74, prepared by Julian Fontana for Meissonier and A.M. Schlesinger), the earliest collected editions were French, the Schonenberger, edited by Fétis (1860), and the Richault, edited by Chopin?s Norwegian pupil Tellefsen (also 1860). Both were permissive with the text by present-day standards, but for entirely different reasons. The first assumed an editorial licence, an implicit belief that the editor knows best, while the second attempted to recover a living Chopin performance tradition, even if this involved departing from the sources. These two opposed philosophies continued to inform later 19th- and early 20th-century editions. Tending towards the former approach were the Stellovsky and Jürgenson (later Augener) editions, as also the Litolff and Biehl. Among those which tried to maintain a living link with Chopin were the Gebethner & Wolff, Heugel and Kistner editions, the latter produced by Chopin?s pupil Karol Mikuli, based on annotated French and German first editions supplemented by copious notes made fromChopin?s lessons. This approach was adopted too in the second Gebethner & Wolff edition (1882), which referred to „variants supplied both by the author himself and as passed on by his most celebrated pupils?, and it reached its culmination in Edouard Ganche?s Oxford Original Edition, based almost entirely on the seven-volume annotated collection of Jane Stirling. Of the „source? or „Urtext? editions produced following World War II, the most popular today is the Polish Complete Edition („Paderewski Edition?), based mainly on the work of Ludwik Bronarski. Yet whatever its pioneering significance, this is a deeply flawed text, selecting permissively from different sources, mistaking copies for autographs and basing orthography and phrasing not on legitimate sources but on unidentified recent editions and even personal judgments made in the light of particular harmonic theories. The jury is still out on more recent collected editions. At the end of the 20th century, the Wiener Urtext had been at a standstill for several years; moreover the volumes which have been produced have no clear or consistent editorial policy. Closer to completion is the Henle Urtext, edited mainly by Ewald Zimmerman; and after many years of gestation the Polish National Edition, under Jan Ekier, also seems to be making some headway (albeit only by sacrificing for subsequent volumes the remarkably detailed commentary which accompanied the first volume, the ballades; Ekier has subsequently replaced this volume by a new edition of the ballades). Of these two, the Polish National is by far the more satisfactory, but despite its declared intention to present an edition of a single („best?) source, it continues to import from other versions, resulting in the kind of conflation (though to a lesser degree) which has marred Chopin editions in the past. It is easy to see why this has occurred; it requires a particular kind of editorial courage to relegate a preferred reading of a passage to the status of a variant. Nevertheless, a Chopin edition which did remain faithful to a single source, presenting us with a text which did actually once exist, would be as valuable as it would be unique; that is the objective of the latest in the field, Peters Edition?s The Complete Chopin: a New Critical Edition. 11. Reception. The afterlife of Chopin?s music well illustrates the many different ways in which musical works – the products of singular creative acts – can achieve a social existence in the world. By revealing the constantly changing reception of his music, we light up the ideology concealed in the corners of music history, and in the process we expose some of the vested interests at work in the promotion, dissemination, influence and evaluation of musical works. By the late 19th century it was clear that there were several different images of Chopin, as his music responded to the particular needs of particular cultural communities. Different modes of reception serve to focus these images. Thus French critics highlighted the notion of expression. Chopin was the poet of the piano, „disclosing his suffering? through music. Moreover his preference for intimate performance contexts, for an art of nuance, sophistication and refinement was viewed as a model to be followed, a bulwark against encroaching German influence. Chopin, in short, was portrayed as a kind of vital missing link connecting the clavecinistes to the great pianist-composers of the fin-de-siècle, Fauré, Debussy and Ravel. German publishers told a different story. The publication of the Breitkopf & Härtel collected edition (1875–80) was a landmark in Chopin reception, and not just because it enabled a wider dissemination of the music. The Breitkopf complete editions of the late 19th century played a large part in the formation of a musical canon, an exercise with strong nationalist overtones. By admitting Chopinto this (largely German) pantheon, they helped translate his music from salon compositions to „classical music? within the German world, and that status was secured by major biographies (Weissmann and Scharlitt) and by a remarkable analytical study from Hugo Leichtentritt, subjecting virtually every work of the published music to a detailed scrutiny. Conflicting images of Chopin were also registered through compositional influence – itself a mode of reception – in the late 19th century. Russian composers proved especially susceptible, and from Balakirev onwards their inclination was to view Chopin as a Slavonic composer first and foremost. For Balakirev, Chopin presented a fusion of nationalism and modernism, and it was just such a fusion that he himself tried to promote at the Free School of Music in St Petersburg. Not surprisingly, then,Chopin?s stylistic influence on progressive tendencies in Russian music was a decisive one. But it should be noted that Russian composers selected carefully from the fused whole of Chopin?s musical style, favouring those elements which appeared to offer an alternative to the forms and methods of an already established Austro-German tradition. In contrast, Chopin was largely domesticated in England. Victorian composers were happy to purloin the external features of his nocturnes and mazurkas, reducing his closely woven textures and delicately shaped phrases to a handful of easy gestures. And in due course his own music was lumped together with this progeny. We find the nocturnes published in collections called „drawing-room trifles?, the preludes described as „pearls? and the études paraded as „tuneful gems?. We even encounter publications of simplified and shortened versions of some of the tougher, more technically demanding works, including the G minor Ballade. Chopin?s unique features, in short, were smoothed out by association with surrounding lowlands of mediocrity In the late 19th century, then, Chopin?s music was an intimate communication, an icon, an agent of cultural and even political propaganda, and a commodity. And in this respect it held a mirror to the conflicting ideologies attending a critical period in music history, right on the cusp between classical and modernist notions of art. In the 20th century there was something of a closure of meaning inChopin reception, and this stands in a polarized relation to the perceptions of his own era. Present-day views of Chopin have been marked above all by a separation of performance and text. These had been inextricably tied together during Chopin?s lifetime, and their later separation can be traced through performance histories, editions and of course a tradition of music criticism which swerved abruptly into analysis in the early years of the century. It was common practice for Chopin?s contemporaries to relate his music to real or imagined contexts. The work was understood to mediate larger realities, and of several kinds: it expressed an emotion; it told a story; it exemplified a genre; it articulated a style; it confirmed an institution. In contrast, the 20th century sought to de-contextualize the music, which became rather a world in and to itself, claiming an ideal relationship of part to whole. The work became a structure, and in that lay its value. It is worth trying to make concrete this contrast between an „active present? and a „recovered past?. In the reprise of the fourth Ballade we may hear a triumphant synthesis of strict canon and ornamental bel canto, Bach and Italian opera. Chopin?s world might have related this sequence to a conventional succession of contemporary improvisation, and it might even have heard in the bravura coda a distant echo of the applause-seeking perorations of popular concert pieces. In the second Ballade we may hear a dramatic confrontation of contrasted materials, heightened by a two-key scheme. Chopin?s world might have related this to the classic formal ingredients of the brilliant style – bravura figuration squared off against popular melody, étude against siciliano. In the introduction to the F minor Fantasy we may hear a multi-sectional upbeat to the first tonal and thematic cycle. Chopin?s world might rather have heard the stylization of an operatic scena, slow march, recitative, grand chorus. Likewise, we signally fail to notice those generic features which would have struck Chopin?s contemporaries: those gestures in the A minor Prelude which signal a funeral march; those features of the G minor Ballade which identify it as a lament; and of course the waltzes and barcarolles which infuse extended works such as the scherzos and ballades. It goes without saying that Chopin?s music will not be confined by the vagaries and fashions of scholarship. It will always remain larger than any of our attempts to describe it. But that will not stop us trying. Bibliography A: Catalogues Thematisches Verzeichniss der im Druck erschienenen Compositionen von Friedrich Chopin (Leipzig,1852, 2/1888) M.J.E. Brown : Chopin: an Index of his Works in Chronological Order (London, 1960, 2/1972) Towarzystwo imienia Fryderyka Chopina: katalog zbiorów [The Chopin Society in Warsaw: a catalogue of its collections], (Warsaw, 1969–71) K. Kobylańska : R?kopisy utworów Chopina: katalog [Manuscripts of Chopin?s works: catalogue] (Kraków,1977) K. Kobylańska : Frédéric Chopin: thematisch-bibliographisches Werkverzeichnis (Munich, 1979) J.M. Chomiński and T.D. Tur?o: Katalog dzie? Fryderyka Chopina [Catalogue of the works of Fryderyk Chopin] (Kraków 1990) B: Bibliographies B.E. Sydow : Bibliografia F.F. Chopina (Warsaw, 1949; suppl. 1954) K. Micha?owski : Bibliografia chopinowska 1849–1969 / A Chopin Bibliography 1849–1969 (Kraków,1970) K. Micha?owski : Cumulative bibliography, Rocznik chopinowski, ix–xx (1975–88); Chopin Studies, iv–v (1994–5) C: Discographies A. Panigel and M. Beaufils : L’oeuvre de Frédéric Chopin: discographie générale (Paris, 1949) H.C. Schonberg : The Collector’s Chopin and Schumann (Philadelphia, 1959/R) D. Melville : Chopin: a Biography, with a Survey of Books, Editions and Recordings (London, 1977) G. Mannoni : „Discographie comparée: les 24 études de Frédéric Chopin?, Harmonie, cxlv (1979), 96 J. Methuen-Campbell : Chopin Playing from the Composer to the Present Day (London, 1981) J. Kański : Dyskografia Chopinowska: historyczny katalog nagrań p?ytowych [Chopin discography: catalogue of recordings] (Kraków, 1986) J. Methuen-Campbell : „A Historical Survey of Chopin on Disc?, The Cambridge Companion to Chopin, ed.J. Samson (Cambridge, 1992), 284–94 D: Iconographies L. Binental : Chopin: dokumenty i pami?tki [Chopin: documents and souvenirs] (Warsaw, 1930; Ger. trans., 1932) R. Bory : La vie de Frédéric Chopin par l’image (Geneva, 1951) M. Idzikowski and B.E. Sydow : Portret Fryderyka Chopina [Portraits of Chopin] (Kraków, 1952, enlarged 2/1963; Fr. trans., 1953) K. Kobylańska, ed. : Chopin w kraju: dokumenty i pami?tki [Chopin in his homeland: documents and souvenirs] (Kraków, 1955; Eng. trans., 1955) A. Boucourechliev : Chopin: a Pictorial Biography (London, 1963) M. Mirska and W. Hordyński : Chopin na obczy?nie: dokumenty i pami?tki [Chopin abroad: documents and souvenirs] (Kraków, 1965) W. Dul?ba : Chopin (Kraków, 1975) A. Zborski and J. Kański : Chopin i jego ziemia/Chopin and the Land of his Birth (Warsaw, 1975, 2/1979) H. Burger : Frédéric Chopin: eine Lebenschronik in Bildern und Dokumenten (Munich, 1990) M. Tomaszewski and B. Weber : Chopin: a Diary in Images (Warsaw, 1990; Pol. orig., Fryderyk Chopin: diariusz par image, Warsaw, 1990) E: Letters M. Kar?owicz, ed.: Nie wydane dotychczas pami?tki po Chopinie [New unpublished souvenirs of Chopin] (Warsaw, 1904; Fr. trans., 1904) B. Scharlitt, ed. and trans.: Friedrich Chopins gesammelte Briefe (Leipzig, 1911) H. Opieński, ed.: Chopin’s Letters (New York, 1931/R; Pol. orig., 1937) B.E. Sydow, ed.: Korespondencja Fryderyka Chopina (Warsaw, 1955; Eng. trans., abridged, 1962) M. Gliński, ed.: Chopin’s Letters to Delfina (Windsor, ON, 1961) Z. Lissa : „Chopins Briefe an Delfine Potocka?, Mf, xv (1962), 341–53 J.M. Smoter : Spór o ‘listy’ Chopina do Delfiny Potockiej [The controversy over Chopin?s „letters? to Delfina Potocka] (Kraków, 1967, 2/1976) K. Kobylańska, ed.: Korespondencja Fryderyka Chopina z rodzin? [Chopin?s correspondence with his family] (Warsaw, 1972) K. Kobylańska, ed.: Korespondencja Fryderyka Chopina z rodzin? George Sand i z jej dzie?mi [Chopin?s correspondence with George Sand and her children] (Warsaw, 1981) F: Collected essays, collective publications R. Schumann : Gesammelte Schriften über Musik und Musiker (Leipzig, 1854/R, rev. 5/1914/R by M. Kreisig; Eng. trans., 1877–80; new Eng. trans., abridged, 1946/R) E. Ganche : Dans le souvenir de Frédéric Chopin (Paris, 1925) ReM, no.121 (1931) [Chopin issue] B. Wójcik-Keuprulian : Chopin: studia, krytyki, szkice [Chopin: studies, criticisms, sketches] (Warsaw,1933) E. Ganche : Voyages avec Frédéric Chopin (Paris, 1934) L. Bronarski : Etudes sur Chopin (Lausanne, 1944–6) L. Bronarski : Chopin et l’Italie (Lausanne, 1946) A. Gide : Notes sur Chopin (Paris, 1948; Eng. trans., 1949/R) Chopin-Almanach (Potsdam, 1949) A. Cortot : Aspects de Chopin (Paris, 1949/R; Eng. trans., 1951/R as In Search of Chopin) M. Mirska : Szlakiem Chopina [Along Chopin?s paths] (Warsaw, 1949) „Autour de Frédéric Chopin, sa correspondance, ses portraits?, ReM, no.229 (1955) [whole issue] Rocznik chopinowski/Annales Chopin (Warsaw, 1956–) Chopin-Jb, 1956, 1963, 1970 M. Tomaszewski, ed.: Kompozytorzy polscy o Fryderyku Chopinie [Polish composers on Chopin] (Kraków, 1959, 2/1964) G. Edel′man, ed.: Friderik Shopen: stat’i i issledovaniya sovetskikh muzïkovedov [Articles and research by Soviet musicologists] (Moscow, 1960) Z. Lissa, ed.: F.F. Chopin (Warsaw, 1960) L. Bronarski : Szkice chopinowskie [Sketches of Chopin] (Kraków, 1961) The Works of Frederick Chopin: Warsaw 1960 M. Beaufils and others: Chopin: catalogue commenté et discographie critique (Paris, 1965, 3/1973) A. Walker, ed.: Frédéric Chopin: Profiles of the Man and the Musician (London, 1966, 2/1973 as The Chopin Companion) A. Harasowski : The Skein of Legends around Chopin (Glasgow, 1967/R) S.M. Chentova, ed.: Shopen, kakim mï evo slïshim (Moscow, 1970) Z. Lissa : Studia nad twórczo?ci? Fryderyka Chopina [Studies on the works of Chopin] (Kraków, 1970) L.A. Mazel : Issledovaniya o Shopene [Research on Chopin] (Moscow, 1971) D. ?ebrowski, ed.: Studies in Chopin (Warsaw, 1973) J. Samson, ed.: Chopin Studies (Cambridge, 1988) J. Samson, ed.: The Cambridge Companion to Chopin (Cambridge, 1992) J. Rink and J. Samson, eds.: Chopin Studies 2 (Cambridge, 1994) G: Biography, memoirs, life E. Delacroix : Journal, MS, 1822–63); ed P. Flat and R. Piot (Paris, 1893–5) ed. A. Joubin (Paris, 1932, rev. 1981 by R. Labourdette); Eng. trans. (New York, 1937/R) G. Sand : Un hiver à Majorque (Paris, 1842, 5/1929; Eng. trans., 1956/R ed. J. Mallion and P. Salomon, Meylan, 1985, 2/1993) G. Sand : Histoire de ma vie (Paris, 1854–5, many later edns) W. von Lenz : Die grossen Pianoforte-Virtuosen unserer Zeit aus persönlicher Bekanntschaft: Liszt, Chopin, Tausig, Henselt (Berlin, 1872; Eng. trans., 1899/R), 19–50 G. Sand : Impressions et souvenirs (Paris, 3/1873/R) C.E. and M. Hallé, eds.: Life and Letters of Charles Hallé (London, 1896, abridged 1972 by M. Kennedy as The Autobiography of Charles Hallé) G. de Pourtalès : Chopin ou le poète (Paris, 1927, 10/1963: Eng. trans., 1927, as Frederick Chopin: a Man of Solitude, 2/1933 as Polonaise: the Life of Chopin) W.D. Murdoch : Chopin: his Life (London, 1934/R) N. Salvaneschi : Il tormento di Chopin (Milan, 1934, 9/1946) K. Stromenger : „Kronika ?ycia? [Chronicle of his life], Almanach chopinowski (Warsaw, 1949), 7–79 K. Wierzyński : The Life and Death of Chopin (New York, 1949, 2/1972; Pol. orig., 1953) J. Iwaszkiewicz : Chopin (Kraków, 1955, 3/1965; Ger. trans., 1958, 2/1964; Fr. trans., 1966) C. Bourniquel : Chopin (Paris, 1957, Eng. trans., 1960) J. Rousselot : La vie passionnée de Frédéric Chopin (Paris, 1957) A. Czartkowski and Z. Je?ewska : Fryderyk Chopin (Warsaw, 1958, 5/1975) L. Fábián : Wenn Chopin ein Tagebuch geführt hätte … (Budapest, 1964, 3/1967) V. Seroff : Frederic Chopin (New York, 1964) G. Lubin, ed.: George Sand: correspondence (Paris, 1964–76) G. Belotti : F. Chopin, l’uomo (Milan, 1974) B. Gavoty : Frédéric Chopin (Paris, 1974; Eng. trans., 1977) J.M. Smoter, ed.: Album Chopina/L’album de Chopin, 1829–1831 (Kraków, 1975) A. Orga : Chopin: his Life and Times (Tunbridge Wells, 1976, 2/ 1978) R. Jordan : Nocturne: a Life of Chopin (London, 1978) G.R. Marek and M. Gordon-Smith : Chopin (New York, 1978) A. Zamoyski : Chopin (London, 1979) J. Samson : „Myth and Reality: a Biographical Introduction?, The Cambridge Companion to Chopin(Cambridge, 1992), 1–8 J. Siepmann : Chopin, the Reluctant Romantic (London, 1995) H: Life and works J.W. Davison : Essay on the Works of Frederick Chopin (London, 1843) J. Sikorski : „Wspomnienie Chopina? [In memory of Chopin], Biblioteka Warszawska (1849), no.4, 510–59 F. Liszt : F. Chopin (Paris, 1852, new edn 1879/R; several Eng. trans., incl. 1863, 1877 and 1899 as Life of Chopin, 1963 as Frederic Chopin) H. Barbedette : Chopin (Paris, 1861, enlarged 2/1869) M.A. Szulc : Fryderyk Chopin i utwory jego muzyczne [Chopin and his musical works] (Poznań, 1873) M. Karasowski : Friedrich Chopin: sein Leben, seine Werke und Briefe, i-ii (Dresden, 1877/R, 3/1881; Eng. trans., 1879, 3/1938/R) F. Niecks : Frederick Chopin as a Man and Musician (London, 1888, 3/1902/R) J. Huneker : Chopin: the Man and his Music (New York, 1900/R) J.G. Huneker : „The Greater Chopin?, Mezzotints in Modern Music (New York, 1899, 3/1905/R, 6/1922) J.C. Hadden : Chopin (London and New York, 1903, 2/1934/R) E. Ganche : Frédéric Chopin: sa vie et ses oeuvres (Paris, 1909/R, 3/1949) H. Opienski : Chopin (Lemberg, 1909) F. Hoesick : Chopin: ?ycie i twórczo?? [Chopin: life and work] (Warsaw, 1910–11, 2/1965–8) A. Weissmann : Chopin (Berlin, 1912, 2/1914) B. Scharlitt : Chopin (Leipzig, 1919) Z. Jachimecki : Fryderyk Chopin (Kraków, 1927, enlarged 4/1957; Fr. trans., 1930) G. de Pourtalès : Chopin, ou Le poète (Paris, 1927/R, 10/1963; Eng. trans., 1927, as Frederick Chopin: Man of Solitude, 2/1933 as Polonaise: the Life of Chopin) L. Binental : Chopin (Paris, 1934) A. Hedley : Chopin (London, 1947, rev. 3/1974 by M.J.E. Brown) H. Weinstock : Chopin: the Man and his Music (New York, 1949/R) C. Bourniquel : Chopin (Paris, 1957; Eng. trans., 1960) I.F. Belza : Friderik Frantsishek Shopen (Moscow, 1960, rev 2/1968 by O.K. Loginova; Pol. trans., 1969) J.M. Chominski : Fryderyk Chopin (London, 1980) T. Zieliński : Chopin: ?ycie i droga twórcza (Kraków, 1993) J. Samson : Chopin (Oxford and New York, 1996) I: Special biographical studies H. Volkmann : Chopin in Dresden (Dresden, 1933, suppl., 1936) B. Ferra : Chopin and George Sand in Majorca (Palma de Mallorca, 1936/R) S. Brookshaw : Concerning Chopin in Manchester (Manchester, 1937, enlarged 2/1951) J. Prosnak : „Srodowisko warszawskie w?yciu Fryderyka Chopina? [The Warsaw society in Chopin?s life],KM, no.28 (1949), 7–126 B.E. Sydow : „Um Chopins Geburtsdatum?, Mf, iii (1950), 246–53 S. and D. Chainaye : De quoi vivait Chopin? (Paris, 1951) J. Procházka : Fryderyk Chopin v Karlových Varech (Karlovy Vary, 1951) F. Zagiba : Chopin und Wien (Vienna, 1951) J. Miketta : „Aus der Genealogie der lothringischen bäuerlichen Vorfahren Frédéric Chopins?, Chopin-Jb 1956, 156–76 M. Godeau : Le voyage à Majorque de George Sand et Frédéric Chopin (Paris, 1959) F. German : Chopin i literaci warszawscy [Chopin and Warsaw?s men of letters] (Kraków, 1960) A. Molnár : „Die Persönlichkeit Chopins?, The Works of Frederick Chopin: Warsaw 1960, 701–6 T. Fr?czyk : Warszawa m?odo?ci Chopina [Warsaw in Chopin?s youth] (Kraków, 1961) M. Gliński : Chopin the Unknown (Windsor, ON, 1963) A. Hedley : „Chopin: the Man?, Frédéric Chopin: Profiles of the Man and the Musician, ed. A. Walker(London, 1966, 2/1973 as The Chopin Companion), 1–23 J. Procházka : Chopin and Bohemia (Prague, 1969) J.M. Smoter, ed.: Album Chopina/L’album de Chopin 1829–1831 (Kraków, 1975) F. Ziejka : „Chopin w Marsylii? [Chopin in Marseilles], Kultura i spo?eczeństwo, xix/4 (1975), 113–24 W.G. Atwood : The Lioness and the Little One: the Liaison of George Sand and Frédéric Chopin (New York, 1980) J: Health K. Barry : Chopin and his Fourteen Doctors (Sydney, 1934) E. Ganche : Souffrances de Frédéric Chopin: essai de médicine et de psychologie (Paris, 1935) E.R. Long : A History of the Therapy of Tuberculosis and the Case of Frederic Chopin (Lawrence, KS,1956) S. Szpilczyński : „War Frédéric Chopin Allergiker??, Mickiewicz-Blätter, no.26 (1964), 102–8 C. Sielu?ycki : „Czy Chopin mógl ?y? d?u?ej? rozwa?ania lekarza? [Could Chopin have lived longer? Considerations of a doctor], RM, xix/1 (1975), 15–16 C. Sielu?ycki : „W sprawie “alergicznego pod?o?a” chorób Chopina? [The „allergic basis? of Chopin?s diseases], Polski tygodnik lekarski, xxx (1975), 229 C. Sielu?ycki : „Lekarze Chopina? [Chopin?s doctors], Archiwum historii medycyny, xxxix (1976), 305–23 G. Böhme : Medizinische Porträts berühmter Komponisten: Mozart, Beethoven, Weber, Chopin, Tschaikowski, Bartók (Stuttgart, 1979) C. Sielu?ycki : „O zdrowiu Chopina: prawdy, domniemania, legendy? [On Chopin?s health: truth, conjecture and myths], Rocznik chopinowski, xv (1983), 69–116 K: Contemporaries M. Doüel : „Chopin and Jenny Lind?, MQ, xviii (1932), 423–7 C. Chamfray : Musset–Chopin: Confrontation (Paris, 1934) M. Wöss : „Chopin-Lenau-Schumann?, ÖMz, iv (1949), 279–82 S. Pugliatti : Chopin e Bellini (Messina, 1952) F. German : „Chopin i Mickiewicz? [Chopin and Mickiewicz], Rocznik chopinowski, i (1956), 227 M.J.E. Brown : „Chopin and his English Publisher?, ML, xxxix (1958), 363–71 A.E. Bone : Jane Wilhelmina Stirling 1804–1859: the First Study of the Life of Chopin’s Pupil and Friend(Chipstead, 1960) W. Eggert : „Chopins Lieblingsschüler Adolf Gutmann?, Mickiewicz-Blätter, nos. 13–15 (1960), 221–34 Z. Lissa : „Chopin im Lichte des Briefwechsels von Verlegern seiner Zeit?, FAM, vii (1960), 46–57 D.V. Zhitomirsky : „Shopen i Shuman? [Chopin and Schumann], Friderik Shopen, ed. G. Edel′man(Moscow, 1960), 296 J. Starzyński : Delacroix et Chopin (Warsaw, 1962) P.A. Gaillard : „Jugements portés sur Chopin par Mickiewicz?, SMz, ciii (1963), 289–92 S.A. Semenovsky : „Russkiye druz′ya i znakomïye Shopena? [Russian friends and acquaintances of Chopin], Russko-polskiye muzïkal′nïye svyazi, ed. I. Belza (Moscow, 1963), 119–37 C. Colombati : „Chopin a Bellini?, RM, xix/21 (1975), 3–5 M. Kubień-Uszokowa, ed.: Chopin a muzyka europejska/Chopin and the European Music (Katowice,1977) F. German : „Fryderyk Chopin i Aleksander Hofman?, Rocznik chopinowski, xiii (1981), 37–48 J.-J. Eigeldinger : „Carl Filtsch, miroir de Chopin?, La fortune de Frédéric Chopin: Dijon 1991, 127–50 L: Pianist and teacher W. von Lenz : Die grossen Piano-Virtuosen unserer Zeit (Berlin, 1872; Eng. trans., 1983) O. Bie : Das Klavier und seine Meister (Munich, 1898, 3/1921, Eng. trans., rev., 1899/R as A History of the Pianoforte and Pianoforte Players) W. Landowska : „How Chopin Played Chopin?, Musical Standard (8 March 1913) E.J. Hipkins : How Chopin Played (London, 1937) L. Bronarski : „Les élèves de Chopin?, Annales Chopin, vi (1965), 7 J.-J. Eigeldinger : Chopin vu par ses élèves (Neuchâtel, 1970; Eng. trans., 1986 as Chopin: Pianist and Teacher) J. Holland : Chopin’s Teaching and his Students (diss., U. of North Carolina, 1972) J.-J. Eigeldinger, ed.: Frédéric Chopin: Esquisses pour une méthode de piano (Paris, 1993) D. Rowland : „Chopin?s tempo rubato in Context?, Chopin Studies 2, ed. J. Rink and J. Samson(Cambridge, 1994), 199–213 M: Works: Musical elements J.P. Dunn : Ornamentation in the Works of Frederick Chopin (London, 1921/R) H. Leichtentritt : Analyse der Chopin’schen Klavierwerke (Berlin, 1921–2) B. Wójcik-Keuprulian : Melodyka Chopina (Lwów, 1930) L. Bronarski : Harmonika Chopina (Warsaw, 1935) M. Ottich : Die Bedeutung des Ornaments im Schaffen Friedrich Chopins (Berlin, 1937) J. Miketta : „Ze studiów nad melodyk? Chopina? [Studies on Chopin?s melody], KM, nos. 26–7 (1949),289–359 F. Eibner : „Chopins kontrapunktisches Denken?, Chopin-Jb 1956, 103–22 H. Zelzer : „Zur Satztechnik Chopins: eine musiktheoretische Untersuchung ihrer Kriterien?, Chopin-Jb 1956, 85–102 Z. Lissa : „Die Chopinsche Harmonik aus der Perspektive der Klangtechnik des 20. Jahrhunderts?, DJbM,ii (1957), 68–84; iii (1958), 74–91 K. H?awiczka : „Reihende polymetrische Erscheinungen in Chopins Musik?, Annales Chopin, iii (1958), 68–99 J.M. Chomiński : „Harmonika a faktura fortepianowa Chopina? [Chopin?s harmony and piano texture],Muzyka, iv/4 (1959), 3–25 J. Chailley : „L?importance de Chopin dans l?évolution du langage harmonique?, The Works of Frederick Chopin: Warsaw 1960, 30–43 J.M. Chomiński : „Z zagadnień faktury fortepianowej Chopina? [Problems of Chopin?s piano texture], F.F. Chopin, ed. Z. Lissa (Warsaw, 1960), 150–69 V.A. Cukkerman : „De l?emploi des genres et des formes dans l?oeuvre de Chopin?, The Works of Frederick Chopin: Warsaw 1960, 114–21 E.J. Dreyer : „Melodisches Formelgut bei Chopin?, The Works of Frederick Chopin: Warsaw 1960, 132–44 K. H?awiczka : „Chopin, Meister der rhythmischen Gestaltung?, Annales Chopin, v (1960), 31–81 K. H?awiczka : „Eigentümliche Merkmale von Chopins Rhythmik?, The Works of Frederick Chopin: Warsaw 1960, 185–95 Z. Lissa : „Die Formenkreuzung bei Chopin?, The Works of Frederick Chopin: Warsaw 1960, 207–12 L.A. Mazel′ : „Nekotorïye chertï kompozitsii v svobodnïkh formakh Shopena? [Some patterns of composition in the free forms of Chopin], Friderik Shopen, ed. G. Edel′man (Moscow, 1960), 182–231 W.W. Protopopow : „Variacionnyi metod razvitiya tematizma v muzyke Shopena? [The variational method of thematic process in Chopin?s works], Friderik Shopen, ed. G. Edel′man (Moscow, 1960), 232–95 K. Reinhardt : „Zur Frage des Tempos bei Chopin?, The Works of Frederick Chopin: Warsaw 1960, 449–54 D.T. Tur?o : „Formotwórcza rola dynamiki w utworach Chopina? [The formal role of dynamics in Chopin?s works], Muzyka, vi (1961), no.2, pp.3–25; no.3, pp.29–54 L. Mazel: Studia Chopinowskie (Kraków, 1965) J. Scherpereel : „Chopin et l?élargissement de la tonalité?, Revue d’esthétique, xviii (1965), 73–86 D.T. Tur?o : „The Evolution of Dynamics as an Element of Construction in Chopin?s Works?, Annales Chopin, vi (1965), 90 A. Walker : „Chopin and Musical Structure: an Analytical Approach?, Frédéric Chopin: Profiles of the Man and the Musician (London, 1966, 2/1973 as The Chopin Companion), 225–57 R. Klein : „Chopins Sonatentechnik?, ÖMz, xxii (1967), 389–99 G. Abraham : „Chopin and the Orchestra?, Slavonic and Romantic Music (London, 1968), 23–7 Z. Chechlińska : „Rodzaje tempa w utworach Chopina? [Types of tempo in Chopin?s compositions],Muzyka, xiv/2 (1969), 45–52 F. Eibner : „Über die Akkorde im Satz Chopins?, Chopin-Jb 1970, 3–24 Z. Lissa : Studia nad twórczo?cia Fryderyka Chopina [Studies on the works of Chopin] (Kraków, 1970) Z. Chechlińska : „Studies on the Chopin Melodic Design?, Studies in Chopin: Warsaw 1972, 62–76 Z. Helman : „Chopin?s Harmonic Devices in 20th-Century Theoretical Thought?, Studies in Chopin: Warsaw 1972, 49–61 U. Dammeier-Kirpal : Der Sonatensatz bei Frédéric Chopin (Wiesbaden, 1973) T. Higgins : „Tempo and Character in Chopin?, MQ, lix (1973), 106–20 R.S. Parks : „Voice Leading and Chromatic Harmony in the Music of Chopin?, JMT, xx (1976), 189–214 Z. Chechlińska : „Italianismi e caratteri vocale della melodia di Chopin?, Pagine, iv (1980), 181 J. Kallberg : „Compatibility in Chopin?s Multipartite Publications?, JM, ii (1983), 391–417 J. Samson : The Music of Chopin (London, 1985/R) W. Kinderman : „Directional Tonality in Chopin?, Chopin Studies, ed. J. Samson (Cambridge, 1988), 59–76 E. Narmour : „Melodic Structuring of Harmonic Dissonance: a Method for Analysing Chopin?s Contribution to the Development of Harmony?, ibid., 77–114 J. Rink : The Evolution of Chopin’s Structural Style and its Relation to Improvisation (diss., U. of Cambridge, 1989) M. Go??b : Chromatyka i tonalno?? w muzyce Chopina (Kraków, 1991) J. Rink : „Tonal Architecture in the Early Music?, The Cambridge Companion to Chopin, ed. J. Samson(Cambridge, 1992), 78–98 Z. Chechlińska : Wariacje i technika wariacyjna w twórczo?ci Chopina (Kraków, 1995) J. Samson : „Chopin?s Alternatives to Monotonality: a Historical Perspective?, The Second Practice of Nineteenth-Century Tonality, ed. W. Kinderman and H. Krebs (Lincoln, NE, 1996), 34–44 N: Works: Style, influence, relationships K. Szymanowski : „Frédéric Chopin et la musique polonaise moderne?, ReM, no.121 (1931), 30–34 G. Abraham: Chopin’s Musical Style (London, 1939/R) V.V. Pashchalov : Shopen i pol′skaya narodnaya muzïka [Chopin and Polish folk music] (Moscow, 1941, 2/1949) W.-L. Landowski : Frédéric Chopin et Gabriel Fauré (Paris, 1946) F. Zagiba : „Chopin als Mozart-Verehrer?, Chopin-Jb 1956, 177–207 J.M. Chomiński : „La maîtrise de Chopin compositeur?, Annales Chopin, ii (1957), 179–237 Z. Lissa : „Le style national des oeuvres de Chopin?, Annales Chopin, ii (1957), 100–78 S. ?obaczewska : „L?apport de Chopin au romantisme européen?, Annales Chopin, ii (1957), 7–99 A. Basso : „Chopin et l?esprit de la musique instrumentale baroque?, The Works of Frederick Chopin: Warsaw 1960, 271–4 K. Biegánski : „Evolution de l?attitude de Chopin à l?égard du folklore (suivant ses mazurkas)?, The Works of Frederick Chopin: Warsaw 1960, 95–9 J.M. Chomiński : „Die Evolution des Chopinschen Stils?, The Works of Frederick Chopin: Warsaw 1960,44–52 S. ?obaczewska : „La culture musicale en Pologne au début du XIXe siècle et ses relations avec la musique de Chopin?, The Works of Frederick Chopin: Warsaw 1960, 63–72 W. Siegmund-Schultze : „Chopin und Brahms?, The Works of Frederick Chopin: Warsaw 1960, 388–95 V.A. Tsukkerman: „Zametki o muzïkal′nom yazïke Shopena? [Remarks on Chopin?s musical language],Friderik Shopen, ed. G. Edel′man (Moscow, 1960), 44–181 W. Wiora: „Chopins Préludes und Etudes und Bachs Wohltemperiertes Klavier?, The Works of Frederick Chopin: Warsaw 1960, 73–81 P. Badura-Skoda : „Chopin und Liszt?, ÖMz, xvii (1962), 60–64 Z. Lissa : „Shopen i Skyrabin?, Russko-polskiye muzïkal’nïye svyazi, ed. I. Belza (Moscow, 1963), 293–374 I.F. Belza : „Problemï izucheniya stilya Shopena? [Problems of examining Chopin?s style], Annales Chopin,vi (1965), 39–72 J. Starzyński : O romantycznej syntezie sztuk: Delacroix, Chopin, Baudelaire [The Romantic synthesis of the arts: Delacroix, Chopin, Baudelaire] (Warsaw, 1965) Z. Lissa : „Max Regers Metamorphosen der Berceuse op.57 von Frédéric Chopin?, FAM, xiii (1966), 79–84; repr. in Mf, xxiii (1970), 277–96 Z. Lissa : „Über den Einfluss Chopins auf A.K. Ljadow?, DJbM, xiii (1968), 5–42 J.M. Chomiński : „Szymanowski a Chopin?, Rocznik chopinowski, vii (1968), 52–66 S. ?azarov : „Chopin – Wagner – Mahler?, Rocznik chopinowski, vii (1968), 100–108 Z. Lissa : „Beethovens Stilelemente im Schaffen Fryderyk Chopins?, Beethoven Bicentenary Conference: Pieš?any and Moravany 1970, 75–99 D. Branson : John Field and Chopin (London, 1972) Z. Chechlińska : „Chopin a impresjonizm? [Chopin and Impressionism], Szkice o kulturze muzycznej XIX wieku, ii (Warsaw, 1973), 21–34 E. Dzi?bowska : „Chopin: romantyk, klasyk, modernista?, Szkice o kulturze muzycznej XIX wieku, ed. Z.Chechlińska, ii (Warsaw, 1973), 7–20 C. Colombati : „Chopin, Scarlatti i muzyka w?oska? [Chopin, Scarlatti and Italian music], RM, xx/4 (1976),3–5 J.-J. Eigeldinger : „Placing Chopin: Reflections on a Compositional Aesthetic?, Chopin Studies 2, ed. J.Rink and J. Samson (Cambridge, 1994), 102–39 O: Editorial questions, interpretation J. Kleczyński : O wykonywaniu dzie? Chopina [On the performance of Chopin?s works] (Warsaw, 1879; Eng. trans., 1896, 6/1913, 7/1970 as How to Play Chopin) J. Kleczyński : Chopin w celniejszych swoich utworach (Warsaw, 1886; Eng. trans., 1896, as Chopin’s Greater Works …: how they Should Be Understood) G.C. Ashton Jonson : A Handbook to Chopin’s Works (London, 1905, 2/1908/R) R. Koczalski : Chopin-Zyklus: vier Klaviervorträge (Leipzig, 1909) L. Kamieński : „Zum “Tempo rubato”?, AMw, i (1918–19), 108–26 J.B. McEwen : Tempo Rubato or Time Variation in Musical Performance (London, 1928) J.F. Porte : Chopin, the Composer and his Music: an Analytical Critique of Famous Traditions and Interpretations (London, 1935) R. Koczalski : Frédéric Chopin: Betrachtungen, Skizzen, Analysen (Cologne, 1936) R. Caporali : „La scrittura pianistica chopiniana e la sua interpretazione?, RaM, xix (1949), 286–95 B. von Po?niak : Chopin: praktische Anweisungen für das Studium der Chopin-Werke (Halle, 1949) D.N. Ferguson : Piano Interpretation: Studies in the Music of Six Great Composers (London, 1950), 183–249 M.J.E. Brown : „The Posthumous Publication of Chopin?s Songs?, MQ, xlii (1956), 51–65 O. Jonas : „On the Study of Chopin?s Manuscripts?, Chopin-Jb 1956, 142–55 Z. Drzewiecki : „Der zeitgenössische polnische Aufführungsstil der Werke von Fryderyk Chopin?, Annales Chopin, ii (1957), 243–53 P. Badura-Skoda : „Um den Chopinschen Urtext: Betrachtungen anlässlich des Erscheinens der Paderewski-Ausgabe?, NZM, Jg.121 (1960), 82–8 M.J.E. Brown : „First Editions of Chopin in Periodicals and Serial Publications?, Annales Chopin, v (1960),7–12 W. Heinitz : „Essentielle Erkenntnisse zur Werk-Ästhetik Frédéric Chopins?, Annales Chopin, v (1960),13–30 J. Sobieska and M. Sobieski : „Das Tempo rubato bei Chopin und in der polnischen Volksmusik?, The Works of Frederick Chopin: Warsaw 1960, 247–54 E. Zimmermann : „Probleme der Chopin-Edition?, Mf, xiv (1961), 155–65 Z. Drzewiecki : „How to Play Chopin?, Polish Perspectives, viii/2 (1965), 14–22 T. Higgins : Chopin Interpretation: a Study of Performance Directions in Selected Autographs and other Sources (diss., U. of Iowa, 1966) Ya.I. Mil?shteyn: Sovetï Shopena pianistam [Chopin?s advice to pianists] (Moscow, 1967) G. Belotti : Le origini italiane del ‘rubato’ chopiniano (Wroc?aw, 1968) K. Kobylańska : „Prace Chopina nad zbiorowym wydaniem dzie? w?asnych? [Chopin?s work on the collected edition of his own works], RM, xii/14 (1968), 3–6 D.T. Tur?o : „Dziedzictwo formy artystycznej Chopina? [The heritage of Chopin?s artistic manner of interpretation], Annales Chopin, viii (1969), 7–43 J. Ekier : Wydanie narodowe dzie? Fryderyka Chopina: komentarze ?ród?owe: ballady [Source commentary to the (Polish) national edition of Chopin?s ballades] (Kraków, 1970) J. Ekier : Wst?p do Wydania narodowego dzie? Fryderyka Chopina, i: Zagadnienia edytorskie[Introduction to the (Polish) national edition of Chopin?s works: editorial problems] (Warsaw, 1974) J.-J. Eigeldinger : „Un autographe musical inédit de Chopin?, SMz, cxv (1975), 18–23 J. Kallberg : „Are Variants a Problem? “Composer?s Intentions” in Editing Chopin?, Chopin Studies, iii(1990), 257–68 J. Methuen-Campbell : „Chopin in Performance?, The Cambridge Companion to Chopin, ed. J. Samson(Cambridge, 1992), 191–205 J. Rink : „Authentic Chopin: History, Analysis and Intuition in Performance?, Chopin Studies 2, ed. J. Rinkand J. Samson (Cambridge, 1994), 214–44 C. Grabowski : „Les editions originales françaises des oeuvres de Frédéric Chopin?, RdM, lxxxii (1996),213–43 P: Ballades C. Saint-Saëns : „A Chopin M.S.: the F major Ballade in the Making?, Outspoken Essays on Music, trans. F. Rothwell (London and New York, 1922/R), 97–105 K. Wilkowska : „?rodki wyrazu emocjonalnego w balladach Chopina? [Methods of emotional expression in Chopin?s ballades], KM, no.28 (1949), 167–239 F. Eibner : „Über die Form der Ballade op.23 von Fr. Chopin?, Annales Chopin, iii (1958), 107–12 W.W. Protopopow : „Polifonia w Balladzie f-moll Chopina? [Polyphony in Chopin?s F minor Ballade],Rocznik chopinowski, vii (1969), 34–44 W. Lisecki : „Die Ballade von Frederic Chopin: literarische oder musikalische Inspirationen?, Chopin Studies, iii (1990), 305–18 G. Anselm : „Ballade und Drama?, AMw, xlviii (1991), 110–25 J. Parakilas : Ballads Without Words: Chopin and the Tradition of the Instrumental Ballade (Portland, OR, 1992) J. Samson : Chopin: the Four Ballades (Cambridge, 1992) J. Samson : „Extended Forms: the Ballades, Scherzos and Fantasies?, The Cambridge Companion to Chopin (Cambridge, 1992), 101–23 K. Berger : „Chopin?s Ballade op.23 and the Revolution of the Intellectuals?, Chopin Studies 2, ed. J. Rinkand J. Samson (Cambridge, 1994), 72–83 J. Rink : „Chopin?s Ballades and the Dialectic: Analysis in Historical Perspective?, MAn, xiii (1994), 99–115 Q: Mazurkas J. Miketta : Mazurki (Kraków, 1949) G. Belotti : „L?assimetria ritmica nella mazurca chopiniana?, NRMI, v (1971), 657–68, 827–47 W. Nowik : „Chopin?s Mazurka F-moll, op.68, Nr.4: “die letzte Inspiration des Meisters”?, AMw, xxx (1973),109–27 J. Kallberg : „The Problem of Repetition and Return in Chopin?s Mazurkas?, Chopin Studies, ed. J.Samson (Cambridge, 1988), 1–24 W. Rothstein : „Phrase Rhythm in Chopin?s Nocturnes and Mazurkas?, ibid., 115–42 A. Thomas : „Beyond the Dance?, The Cambridge Companion to Chopin, ed. J. Samson (Cambridge,1992), 145–59 R: Preludes J.M. Chomiński : „Problem formy w preludiach Chopina? [Problems of form in Chopin?s Préludes], KM,nos.26–7 (1949), 183–288; no.28 (1949), 240–395 J.M. Chomiński : Preludia (Kraków, 1950) G. Belotti : „Il problema delle date dei preludi di Chopin?, RIM, v (1970), 159–215 T. Higgins : Frederic Chopin: Preludes, opus 28: an Authoritative Score, Historical Background, Analysis, Views and Comments (New York, 1973) J.-J. Eigeldinger : „Twenty-Four Preludes op.28: Genre, Structure, Significance?, Chopin Studies, ed. J.Samson (Cambridge, 1988), 167–94 J. Kallberg : „Small “Forms”: in Defence of the Prelude?, The Cambridge Companion to Chopin, ed. J.Samson (Cambridge, 1992), 124–44 C. Schachter : „The Prelude in E minor op.28 no.4: Autograph Sources and Interpretation?, Chopin Studies 2, ed. J. Rink and J. Samson (Cambridge, 1994), 161–82 L.H. Shaffer : „Performing the F minor Prelude op.28 no.8?, ibid., 183–98 J.-J. Eigeldinger : „Chopin and “La note bleue”: an Interpretation of the Prelude op.45?, ML, lxxviii (1997),233–53 S: Songs S. Barbag : Studium o pie?niach Chopina [A study on Chopin?s songs] (Lwów, 1927) S. Stookes : „Chopin, the Song-Writer?, MMR, lxxx (1950), 96–101 R. Prilisauer : „Frederic Chopins “Polnische Lieder”?, Chopin-Jb 1963, 117–32 T: Waltzes A. Koszewski : „Melodyka walców Chopina? [Melody in Chopin?s waltzes], Studia muzykologiczne, ii(1953), 276–341 A. Koszewski : „Problemy rytmiczne i agogiczne w walcach Chopina? [Problems of rhythm and tempo in Chopin?s waltzes], Annales Chopin, iii (1958), 113–32 [with Ger. summary] A. Koszewski : „Das Walzerelement im Schaffen Chopins?, DJbM, v (1960), 58–66 A. Koszewski : „Das Wienerische in Chopins Walzern?, Chopin-Jb 1963, 27–42 U: Other works L.A. Mazel′ : Fantaziya f-moll Shopena: opït analiza [Towards an analysis of Chopin?s F minor Fantasia] (Moscow, 1937; repr. in Issledovaniya o Shopene (Moscow, 1971), 5–141 D.F. Tovey : „Observations on Chopin?s Etudes?; „Impromptu in F sharp Major?, Essays in Musical Analysis: Chamber Music (London, 1944/R), 155–63; 163–6 H. Feicht : „Ronda Fr. Chopina? [Chopin?s rondos], KM, nos.21–2 (1948), 39–59; no.23 (1948), 23–62; no.24 (1948), 7–54 K. Wilkowska : „Impromptus Chopina?, KM, nos.26–7 (1949), pp.102–82 J. Prosnak : „Wariacje fletowe Chopina? [Chopin?s Variations for flute and piano], Studia muzykologiczne,i (1953), 267–307 M.J.E. Brown : „Chopin?s Lento con gran espressione?, MMR, lxxxvi (1956), 207–30 A. Fr?czkiewicz : „Faktura fortepianowa koncertów Fryderyka Chopina? [Piano texture in Chopin?s concertos], Annales Chopin, iii (1958), 133–58 [with Ger. summary] J.M. Chomiński : „Structure à motifs des études de Chopin en tant que problème d?éxécution?, Annales Chopin, iv (1959), 75–122 Z. Chechlińska : „Ze studiów nad ?ród?ami do Scherz F. Chopina? [A source study of Chopin?s scherzos],Annales Chopin, v (1960). 82–199 J.M. Chomiński : Sonaty Chopina [Chopin?s sonatas] (Kraków, 1960) I. Barbag-Drexler : „Die Impromptus von Fryderyk Chopin?, Chopin-Jb 1970, 25–108 G. Belotti : „Le prime composizioni di Chopin: problemi e osservazioni?, RIM, vii (1972), 230–91 J. Samson : „An Unknown Chopin Autograph?, MT, cxxvii (1986), 376–8 J. Kallberg : „The Rhetoric of Genre: Chopin?s Nocturne in G minor?, 19CM, xi (1987–8), 238–61 Z. Chechlińska : „The Nocturnes and Studies: Selected Problems of Piano Texture?, Chopin Studies, ed.J. Samson (Cambridge, 1988), 143–66 J. Gajewski : The Worksheets to Chopin’s Violoncello Sonata (New York, 1988) W. Nowik : „Fryderyk Chopin?s Op.57: from Variantes to Berceuse?, Chopin Studies, ed. J. Samson(Cambridge, 1988), 25–40 J. Samson : „The Composition-Draft of the Polonaise-Fantasy: the Issue of Tonality?, ibid., 41–58 J. Rink : „The Barcarolle: Auskomponierung and Apotheosis?, ibid., 195–220 C. Schachter : „Chopin?s Fantasy op.49” the Two-Key Scheme?, ibid., 221–53 J. Samson : „Chopin?s F sharp Impromptu: Notes on Genre, Style and Structure?, Chopin Studies, iii(1990), 297–304 S. Finlow : „The Twenty-Seven Etudes and their Antecedents?, The Cambridge Companion to Chopin, ed.J. Samson (Cambridge, 1992), 50–77 A. Leikin : „The Sonatas?, ibid., 160–87 D. Rowland : „The Nocturne: Development of a New Style?, ibid., 32–49 A. Newcomb : „The Polonaise-Fantasy and Issues of Musical Narrative?, Chopin Studies 2, ed. J. Rink andJ. Samson (Cambridge, 1994), 84–101 J. Rink : Chopin: the Piano Concertos (Cambridge, 1997) J. Rink : “„Structural Momentum” and Closure in Chopin?s Nocturne, op.9, no.2?, Schenker Studies 2, ed.C. Schachter and H. Siegel (forthcoming) V: Other studies I.J. Paderewski : Chopin: a Discourse (London, 1911) K. Szymanowski : Fryderyk Chopin (Warsaw, 1925, 2/1949) J.C. Romero : Chopin en México (Mexico City, 1950) J. Holcman : The Legacy of Chopin (New York, 1954) I.F. Belza : „Shopen i russkaya muzykal?naya kul?tura? [Chopin and the Russian musical culture], Annales Chopin, ii (1957), 254–73 G.B. Bernandt : „Shopen v Rossii? [Chopin in Russia], SovM (1960), no.2, pp.29–38 B. Johnsson : „Chopin og Danmark?, DMt, xxxv (1960), 33–41 A. Zakin : „Chopin and the Organ?, MT, ci (1960), 780–81 R. Steglich : „Chopins Klaviere?, Chopin-Jb 1963, 139–60 J. Prosnak : The Frederic Chopin International Piano Competitions, Warsaw 1927–1970 (Warsaw, 1970) K. Kobylańska : „Chopin?s Biography: Contemporary Research and History?, Studies in Chopin: Warsaw, 1972, 116–41 W. Nowik : „The Receptive-Informational Role of Chopin?s Musical Autographs?, Studies in Chopin: Warsaw 1972, 77–89 O. Pisarenko : „Chopin and his Contemporaries: Paris, 1832–1860?, Studies in Chopin: Warsaw 1972,30–48 Chopin na ?l?sku: Katowice 1973 [with Eng. summaries] (Katowice, 1974) J. Kallberg : „Chopin?s Last Style?, JAMS, xxxviii (1985), 264–315 J. Samson : „Chopin and Genre?, MAn, viii (1989), 213–31 D. Carew : „Victorian Attitudes to Chopin?, The Cambridge Companion to Chopin, ed. J. Samson(Cambridge, 1992), 222–45 Z. Chechlińska : „Chopin Reception in Nineteenth-Century Poland?, ibid., 206–21 R. Howat : „Chopin?s influence on the fin de siècle and beyond?, ibid., 246–83 J. Rink : „Schenker and Improvisation?, JMT, xxxvii (1993), 1–54 A. Ballstaedt : „Chopin as “Salon Composer” in Nineteenth-Century German Criticism?, Chopin Studies 2, ed. J. Rink and J. Samson (Cambridge, 1994), 18–34 E.T. Cone : „Ambiguity and Reinterpretation in Chopin?, ibid., 140–60 J. Kallberg : „Small Fairy Voices: Sex, History and Meaning in Chopin?, ibid., 50–71 J. Samson : „Chopin Reception: Theory, History, Analysis?, ibid., 1–17 A. Swartz : „Chopin as modernist in nineteenth-century Russia?, ibid., 35–49 J. Kallberg : Chopin at the Boundaries: Sex, History and Musical Genre (Cambridge, MA and London,1996) J. Rink : „Interpreting Performance: Chopin Playing in Perspective?, IMSCR XVI: London 1997(forthcoming) Kornel Micha?owski/Jim Samson