*Beethoven’s birthday is unknown; December 17th, 1770 is his baptismal date

The Other Prodigy and His Childhood Polonaise

When one thinks about musical prodigies, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart may come to mind. A composer, pianist, and overall musical genius from as early as age four, Mozart came packaged with an eccentric personality typical of prodigies: unnervingly stoic as a child and whimsically erratic as an adult. With that in mind, it is easy to overlook another prodigy in the world of classical music: Fryderyk Chopin.

Though Chopin, melancholic and delicate, lacks the eccentricities typical of geniuses, he is undoubtedly one. Like Mozart, the pianist and composer was talented in music from a young age. At the age of seven he wrote a Polonaise in G Minor that was published by his father. Around that time he was also already giving concerts and winning the attention and gifts of aristocrats.

Though Chopin’s childhood polonaise lacks the sophistication and refinement typical of his adult self, it is a rare peek into his child mind and the musical gears that were undoubtedly already turning in it. The piece has an innocent quality that is absent from Chopin’s mature works. Whenever I play any of Fryderyk Chopin’s music, I always feel as if he is a dear friend and I am speaking with him. When I play Chopin’s childhood polonaise, unlike our normal conversations he is seven years old.

Chopin vs. Schumann's Kreisleriana

As much as I enjoy Robert Schumann’s music, I understand why it rubbed Fryderyk Chopin the wrong way. Case in point, Schumann dedicated his Kreisleriana, Op. 16 to Chopin, who commented unfavorably on it. Even though this assessment likely discouraged Schumann, as he was an admirer of Chopin’s genius, it is hardly surprising. By this time, both composers had already struck out and developed their own unique styles, and Schumann’s Kreisleriana in particular strikes me as very anti-Chopin.

Though Schumann and Chopin were born in the same year, they are different as night and day, with Schumann’s wildly bipolar nature contrasting against Chopin’s delicate melancholy. They hardly met, as Chopin was in the French school of Romanticism and Schumann was in the German school, but their fleeting conversations were fraught with tension. To someone like Fryderyk Chopin, who favored grounded refinement and thematic unity in his music, Robert Schumann’s Kreisleriana may have come across as confused and jarring in its wild themes and dramatic dynamic changes.

I personally enjoy both composers, though I prefer Chopin due to mostly personal reasons. Nevertheless, I find it fascinating how Chopin and Schumann both represent the evolving world of Romanticism, one that is elegant and sophisticated as well as stormy and untameable.

A Curious Dedication

The romantic Romantic in me still gets emotional over Fryderyk Chopin dedicating his Op. 10 Etudes to Franz Liszt. It’s a very touching gesture when you consider that Chopin and Liszt were opposites in so many ways, their friendship fraught with jealousy and tension from the beginning. Liszt was as extroverted and gregarious as Chopin was introverted and intimate, so they were bound to clash even as they respected each other. Chopin could’ve dedicated his Op. 10 to anyone but he dedicated it to Liszt, which speaks volumes on their relationship.

One of the Etudes in the Opus, No. 12 in C Minor, is nicknamed “Revolutionary” because its composition coincides with Poland’s failed 1831 November Uprising against Russian rule. We don’t know whether the revolution was on Chopin’s mind as he composed this piece, but if it was, it must have been very personal given Chopin’s deep love for his home country.

Chopin dedicating his Op. 10 Etudes to Liszt, therefore, may have gone something like this: “Franz, I don’t know why I’m your friend and I can’t stand you, but these Etudes are very personal to me and I want you to know how I feel. I don’t know why I’m doing this, but I’m trusting you with my heart and soul.”

I think that’s beautiful.

Debunking Myths About Classical Composers

Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky was not poisoned, nor was he forced to commit suicide because he was gay. He died of cholera from an epidemic that hit St. Petersburg.

Felix Mendelssohn was not exactly a nice man. He was very volatile and savage at times and most likely threatened to commit suicide if the singer Jenny Lind did not return his affections and agree to start an affair with him (this was when Lind was already married).

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was not poisoned by Antonio Salieri out of jealousy. That comes from the movie Amadeus. Mozart and Salieri respected each other, and even though the cause of Mozart’s death is still debated it is almost certain that he died of illness.

Johannes Brahms was not forced as a teenager to play the piano in brothels in order to provide for his family. This is almost certainly just a rumor because minors were not allowed in brothels, and Brahms was from a reasonably well-off family. He played in taverns for extra cash, but not brothels.

It’s less dramatic and romantic this way, but it’s the truth.

Beethoven's Shadow

One of the most interesting things to me about Romanticism as a musical movement was the different ways different composers lived under Beethoven’s legacy. Ludwig van Beethoven, probably the greatest composer the world has ever saw and will ever see, was the most instrumental figure in the transition between Classicism and Romanticism. He cast a long shadow that composers of the Romantic Era worked to come to terms with.

The Schumann Ballade

 

Chopin’s second Ballade is less well-known than his first and has often been criticized as “less ingenious”. I can see where this sentiment is coming from because I too prefer Chopin’s Ballade No. 1, but I find his Ballade No. 2 – which I fondly call the “Schumann Ballade” – to be a hidden gem.