Chopin: A Hero and an Overrated Genius
Who abused Chopin’s masterpieces?
Ah, Chopin. I will never forget what you did to me. When I first listened to “Heroic” Polonaise, I was so overwhelmed I couldn’t put myself together. A chill shivered down my spine, my palms wet with sweat — you enthralled me with your magnum opus.
But, over the next two decades, my admiration faded. As I leaned towards more “classical” composers, Chopin’s music felt shallow and limited. Although I am still fond of his music, my view of Chopin is a bit more complicated than it was before.
Today, Chopin is regarded as one of the most prominent classical composers of the Romantic era. His music is so popular that many of his pieces, such as Nocturnes Op.9–2 and Waltz Op. 64–2, are recognized by non-classical listeners. My wife, who does not know Bach from Rachmaninoff, can distinguish a couple of Chopin pieces. She says she has heard that stuff somewhere, sometime.
But is that great? The fact his music appeals to a broad spectrum of human demographics? Yes, obviously — popularity is the only metric that can directly measure the greatness of an artwork. After all, the worst art pieces are those that have never been seen or heard before.
So, the subject matter is the disproportion of Chopin’s popularity. I perceive that in recent years, Chopin has become overrated, and this trend is likely to continue so long as the way we approach music remains unchanged. It is as if Chopin’s popularity were perpetuated: the high usability of his oeuvre earns him a place everywhere — yes, Chopin lives long in the consumer culture we have constructed.
Since Beethoven ushered in the Romantic Period, classical music became more than music. It came to speak of philosophy, express emotion and evoke imagery. There were even composers like Camille Saint-Saëns, who strove to express music through music. Hardcore, right?
For the first time in history, music was subject to criticism. Each piece of music had to be unique and meaningful. Some composers were political, which has resulted in marring their reputations.
Chopin was peculiar. He rarely expressed his ideological views, let alone in his oeuvre. His preoccupation was to write good music, not politics. Unlike his contemporaries, he composed out of his sentimentality. As a result, his music is typically associated with love and mortality: the two qualities humans are naturally drawn towards.
“Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.”
John Donne
For many, Chopin’s music is like a cry from the heart. It appeals more to our primitive mind than our intellectual one: it loses its appeal when one reaches intellectual maturity.
Unlike other theatrical composers, Chopin mainly played at salons. He relied heavily on his intellectual peers, who aided him in achieving eminence by reporting his concerts in newspapers.
This explains the digestibility of Chopin’s music. Many of his compositions have a clear leitmotif and generally play for less than five minutes. In a sense, Chopin’s music had to be easy to understand.
Due to these qualities, Chopin’s music goes well with films and, in fact, almost any visual products — from video advertisements to personal “vlogs” — that seek to highlight their sentimental moments.
Chopin’s music is also technically demanding. Yes, some of his pieces are pretty difficult to play, and they are more so if one tries to play them well.
This makes the International Chopin Piano Competition one of the highest piano competitions. It is also one of the most televised ones. Chopin players like Rubinstein, Horowitz and Zimerman are among the most renowned names of our generation.
The thing is that challenging performances are more impressive to watch. I remember that when I used to play the piano for my friends, I always played La Campanella to draw attention.
In short, the appeal of Chopin’s music is to be appealing. It sticks well to the kind of narrative we as human beings crave.
Of all forms of art, music is a special kind. It has a lot in common with science, but unlike science, it intoxicates people on a kinetic level: it makes people move, cry and even sleep.
On the contrary, literature nourishes our reason. It even makes us doubt our feelings. Only words can counteract the violent force of music.
In other words, music and literature are in a complementary relationship. They are like each side of a magnet: one is always seeking the other. When they reunite, they give birth to what Nietzsche calls the highest form of art.
And we want to see and experience it. The culture we have constructed precipitates this miraculous reunion. In the twentieth-first century, it happens everywhere: music is now necessary to communicate information.
Music that is high in demand prevails. While this is merely a statement of fact, I believe this “natural selection of music” has its downside as it buries the more profound but less profitable pieces into oblivion.
This, obviously, is not Chopin’s fault. It is just that it’s too facile to use his music in the WW2 context. No other art but music can be abused in this way. I resent that this repeated abuse has already created an imbalance between classical composers and, worse, reduced many compositions into mere “memes”.
I digress. In my future article, I will discuss Chopin’s “heroic” contribution to classical music. Until next time.
