Charles Dutoit

Warsaw
Easter 2010
BEETHOVEN
m
Paavo Järvi
from No. 1 to No. 9
p. 8
Charles Dutoit
with Swiss precision
p. 6
Chopin
at the table
p. 12
Eric Le Sage
the lyrical pianist
p. 13
a
g
a
z
i
n
e
No. 7
From the publisher
There is only one challenge
How to make high art force its way through the
hubbub of pop culture? Does classical music
stand a chance of broad reception in a world governed by download charts and the spiritual dilemmas of celebrities? A contemporary festival of
classical music faces numerous challenges that at
times seem to be contradictory: to maintain the
highest level, to present ambitious works, and to
coax wide audiences into intellectual exercise...
The Ludwig van Beethoven Easter Festival has
worked out a number of recipes for this: new cultural realms (a concert of Chinese music), jazz
and multimedia (Chopin ą la Mísia!) projects,
works unjustly forgotten (Euryanthe), and projects whose scope grows beyond the everyday
practice of the world’s concert halls. This year: all
Beethoven’s symphonies as produced by Deutsche
Kammerphilharmonie Bremen under Paavo Järvi.
There is only one challenge, possibly the greatest
of all, that might keep the organisers awake at
night – namely how can they make next year’s,
15th Festival even more exceptional?
The answer will be here soon!
Opening of the 14th Festival: Paweł Potoroczyn, Director of the Adam Mickiewicz Institute, Elżbieta Penderecka,
Hanna Gronkiewicz-Waltz, Mayor of Warsaw.
Andrzej Giza
Director of Ludwig van Beethoven
Association
From the Editor
The phenomenon of playing
together
The second week of the festival. Beethoven’s symphonies will be conducted by Paavo Järvi, an artist
in the full bloom of his potential; Berlioz’s Grande
Messe des morts will be conducted by Charles Dutoit, who – in Bartosz Kamiński’s interview – discloses the recipe for an outstanding orchestra.
Even though the time of the great tyrants of the
baton is gone, and there is democracy that reigns
even in the orchestras, we are still fascinated by
the phenomenon of making music in an ensemble, to a degree no less than we are by the piano
music. This is why we are curious to know what
those who participated in the creation of these
phenomena were like: Beethoven, Schumann, and
Chopin, i.e. the hothead, the poet, and the dandy,
or rather – as Joanna Bojańczyk explains – the sophisticatedly elegant man. This is the interesting
picture that comes into view in our articles, and is
complemented by Wojciech Bońkowski’s discoveries concerning Chopin’s sybaritism.
The man and the work: not everyone is allowed to
play Schumann properly. The French pianist, Eric
Le Sage, who belongs to the few who do, explains
to Kacper Miklaszewski why for over 20 years he
has been intrigued by the music of the author of
the Symphonic Studies.
21st March, the Teatr Wielki – Polish National Opera, Xiaoyong Yang (baritone), Xu Xiao Ying (soprano),
Shanghai Symphony Orchestra.
Anna S. Dębowska
Editor-in-Chief
of Beethoven Magazine
Long Yu and Shanghai Symphony Orchestra, 21st March.
The Festival has just begun
This year’s Ludwig van Beethoven
Easter Festival comes at a very
special time, a time with
additional reasons for celebration:
this is the year of two masters
of the piano, two Romantics, two
poets of music – Robert Schumann
and Fryderyk Chopin.
It was Schumann the visionary
who described Chopin’s works
as “cannon concealed amid
blossoms.” This is an
apt metaphor, conveying
the indomitable spirit of Chopin’s
music, with his fist coming down
on the keyboard when needed,
as well as its poetic charm
and colour.
Ludwig van Beethoven, the author
of piano sonatas and concertos
steered, in his oeuvre, towards
new musical shores, and his
imagination produced his own
abstract of the piano – a piano that
would resound with the power
of an entire orchestra as well as
one that could express the subtlest
and the most beautiful
of emotions.
The stage for the music associated
with the piano will be set, among
other things, by Ludwig
van Beethoven’s complete
symphonies, performed by the
Deutsche Kammerphilharmonie
Bremen under Paavo Järvi,
and, on Good Friday, the very
rarely presented Berlioz Requiem
under Charles Dutoit with soloist
Paul Groves.
Let me wish you an unforgettable
experience.
Elżbieta Penderecka
The auditorium of the Teatr Wielki – Polish National Opera, the inauguration of the festival.
22nd March, Ivan Monighetti (cello) and Pavel Gililov (piano) in the Royal Castle.
General Director
Ludwig van Beethoven Easter Festival
22nd March, Louis Lortie and Sinfonietta Cracovia, Warsaw Philharmonic Hall.
22nd March, the Grand Hall in the Royal Castle
with the festival’s greatest treasure: our audience.
Ewa Braun, stage designer, Oscar winner:
I have been a guest of the Beethoven
Festival since this grand musical event
moved to Warsaw. This is one of the most
beautiful presents that the capital city
received from Kraków. I try not to miss
even a single night. A perfect concept
that differentiates this festival is
presentation of the works
of the great classicist against other musical
events. Thus we have an opportunity
to listen to forgotten operas in concert
versions, chamber music, and pieces that
demand a great performing apparatus.
What could turn into a great event may be
the performance of Berlioz’s Requiem on
Good Friday under the eminent conductor
Charles Dutoit.
Bożena Batycka, designer:
The festival hosts many eminent performers
from all over the world. Gathering all of
them in a single space and time requires
plenty of labours, efforts, and talent.
The scale of the event commands my great
respect, and the services of Elżbieta
Penderecka simply cannot be overestimated.
I have taken an interest in the festival since
its earliest days, and for a number of the
first years, I very much wished that it was
not held in Kraków, so far away from Gdynia.
I greatly enjoyed the fact that it was moved
to Warsaw. Since that time, I have been
faithful to it and I visit it every year. I try
to arrange my duties in such a way as to be
able to stay at least a few days at the festival,
and not to miss a single concert. This year
I’m going to focus on the Shanghai Symphony
Orchestra, all Beethoven’s symphonies,
and Chopin’s Piano Concerto No. 2
in F minor and Schumann’s Piano Quintet
in E flat major, performed by the so-called
“quartet of talents” and Janusz Olejniczak.
Agnieszka Holland, film director:
The Festival has an authentic, holiday
character; as far as music goes, it seems
to be very carefully thought through, one
can feel Ms Elżbieta Penderecka’s expertise
and energy.
21st March, master classes with Nelson Goerner, Chamber Hall of the Warsaw Philharmonic.
Elżbieta Penderecka and Minister of Defence Bogdan Klich.
Jolanta Fajkowska, journalist
and TV anchor woman:
The festival is full of dignity, solemnity,
and concentration, as required
by the coming Easter. It also carries
elegance and chic, it is slightly snobbish,
sometimes high society On the one hand,
conservative, and on the other,
still young and full of energy.
Warsaw lent momentum to the event,
but also gained from it: now it has
a musical event of European class.
Krzysztof Zanussi, film director:
The Beethoven Festival has the great power
to attract whole throngs of audiences.
Photos by Bruno Fidrych
Wojciech Pszoniak
M A S T E R
P E R F O R M A N C E S
I always found chamber orchestras my role
model, as their musicians carefully listen to
one another. In the mass of sound of the great
symphonic orchestra, there are many details that
simply disappear, and yet they are the ones that
decide on the finery and class of each ensemble.
Few are the symphony orchestras whose
musicians are aware of that. In the United States,
the first such orchestra was the Cleveland
Orchestra conducted by George Szell, who played
Haydn and Mozart as the best chamber orchestras do.
Today you stand at the helm of the Philadelphia
Orchestra. What is characteristic of it?
Its great forte is its powerful and velvety sound,
especially of the strings. Today, when there’s
a change of generations in ensembles of renown,
and many young musicians – especially in
America – are of Asian origin, maintaining
tradition is especially important. This is why
I am always very eager to perform with the
Philadelphia the repertoire that has always
been their hallmark.
With Swiss precision
He won renown with his interpretations of French music.
On Good Friday, Charles Dutoit will conduct Hector Berlioz’s
monumental Grande Messe des morts, with American tenor
Paul Groves and the Sinfonia Varsovia Orchestra.
Bartosz Kamiński: When did you first come
across the music of Berlioz?
Charles Dutoit: As far as I remember, it was
in Paris: Igor Markevitch was conducting
The Damnation of Faust. In Washington, I listened
to the opera Les Troyens in the concert version
conducted by Thomas Beecham. It was nearly
50 years ago.
As far as Berlioz is concerned, I took to heart
a comment by Charles Munch, who was direcotr
of Boston Symphony Orchestra, and under whose
guidance I was studying for a time. Munch
believed Berlioz to be very close to Beethoven,
which many conductors forget today. It is true that
Berlioz’s theoretical treaties on instrumentation
initiated the modern thinking about the
symphonic orchestra, and that it was him – and
not Liszt, as is frequently believed – who wrote
the first symphonic poem, namely the Symphonie
fantastique. Yet he was also faithful to classical
ideals, for example, in the matters of clarity
of sound.
Besides Munch, your teachers also included
Ernest Ansermet and Herbert von Karajan.
Which of them do your owe most to?
I believe it is to Ansermet, who was the head
of the Orchestre de la Suisse Romande (OSR)
when I was studying in Geneva. He impressed
me as a musician and as a person. He was
a philosopher and a humanist with very broad
horizons. In turn, I met Karajan when I was
a musician of the youth orchestra of the Lucerne
festivals. It must have been the only time in his
life that he conducted master classes. Later,
he invited me to the Viennese Opera, so that
I conducted the productions of Manuel de Falla’s
ballet The Three-Cornered Hat, with decorations
by Picasso. At that time, I had the opportunity
to watch Karajan at rehearsals, which was
a marvellous lesson indeed.
A large share of your repertoire is made up
of works by Debussy, Ravel, and Stravinsky,
whose performances made Ernest Ansermet
famous – moreover, he was the first performer
of many of them. What made you conduct them
so often: tradition or personal preference?
When I became director of the Montréal
Symphony Orchestra, Decca suggested that
I record works from Ansermet’s repertoire using
digital technology, which had just made it onto
the market at the time. For a variety of reasons,
they preferred
to record outside of Europe. They knew that
I found that repertoire familiar, and that from the
Montréal people they could expect a similar finery
and sensitivity to the colour of the sound that you
could find in Ansermet. Our recordings were
successful, and became crucial to the image of the
ensemble. Yet my repertoire is more varied than
you could judge by the recordings.
You mentioned finery and sensitivity to the
colour of the sound. That must be the hardest
thing to attain?
Friday, 2nd of April, , 7.30 pm, Teatr Wielki – Polish National Opera
Harold C. Schonberg, the famous music critic
of the New York Times, believed that the
imposing sound of that orchestra resulted also
from the fact that in daily practice they played
in a room with difficult acoustics, and were
forced to make up for the sound.
The acoustics of the room where an orchestra
performs regularly have an influence on the
ensemble’s sound. Let us take as examples
Concertgebouw in Amsterdam and the
Philharmonic Hall in Saint Petersburg. Yet this
is also determined by the fixed repertoire. The
Viennese Philharmonics mostly perform classical
and romantic works. When you conduct them
in pieces that they play less often, for example,
Stravinsky and French composers, you need
more work to achieve the right effects.
Also decisive for the sound of the orchestra is its
musical director, as each conductor has his own
preferences in this field. In Philadelphia, you can
still recognise the hallmarks of Stokowski, who
was extremely fond of a powerful, saturated
sound. Thus, as you see, various factors
influenced the tradition of the given ensemble.
Interviewed by Bartosz Kamiński
The Grande Messe des morts
(Requiem) for tenor, choir, and
grand orchestra was composed
in 1837: a shock and a triumph
in its day, the masterpiece causes
major interpretation controversies.
Charles Dutoit was born in 1936, in Lausanne. In 1977
he became the artistic director of the Montréal Symphony Orchestra, which he directed for nearly 30
years, and with whom he made a number of famous
recordings of Russian and French music of the 19th
and 20th centuries on the Decca label. Today, he is the
first conductor and artistic director of the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, and the first director and artistic
adviser of the Philadelphia Orchestra.
Paul Groves, lyrical tenor, made
his La Scala début in 1995.
His most important roles include
Tamino in Mozart’s Magic Flute
and Don Ottavio in his Don
Giovanni, and the title part in
Berlioz’s Damnation of Faust.
He regularly performs at the
Salzburg Festival, and
on the stages of the Royal Opera
House in London’s Covent Garden
and the Metropolitan Opera.
Orchestra
as the universe
The basic composition of the orchestra took shape
in the 18th century, in the symphonies of Haydn
and Mozart. In classicism, the strings dominant
in baroque were joined by the woodwinds: the flute,
oboe, bassoon, and later also the clarinet, as well
as the brass – horns and trumpets – and finally
the timpani.
In his nine symphonies, Ludwig van Beethoven
successively introduced new instruments
– the trombone, the piccolo, and the contrabassoon.
Not until that great precursor of romanticism had
other composers seen how the element of the
orchestra can be exploited to the full. Beethoven’s
compositions, treating each of the instruments
as an integral ingredient of the orchestra, set the
trend for 19th- and 20th-century instrumentation,
that is using the orchestra. All that the following
generations were left with was to develop that idea.
In his Ring Cycle of four operas, Richard Wagner
used – besides a 64-person-strong ensemble
of bow-stringed instruments – a quadruple line-up
for woodwinds, four trumpets, eight French
horns, of which four can be exchanged for the
so-called Wagner tubas, four trombones, six
harps, and a large set of percussion instruments.
Yet probably the largest line-up is featured in the
Symphony No. 8 in E-flat major – Symphony
of a Thousand composed by Gustav Mahler.
Considered a true master of instrumentation,
Richard Strauss made use of machines imitating
the whistling of the wind and thunder in his
Alpine Symphony. In turn, Krzysztof Penderecki,
a classicist of the 20th century, dared to introduce
into the orchestra a circular saw, a typewriter,
Raoul Dufy, The Red Concert, 1946
and tubaphones: instruments he constructed
from PVC tubes, which are played with table-tennis
rackets (to fantastic effect!) All this to broaden
and vary the range of the sound.
Yet, with the 19th-century orchestra as the touchstone, hardly anything has actually changed to
this day. The general composition and the setting
of the instruments on the stage has been preserved.
With time, the arrangement known as German
(the second violin situated opposite the first
violin, on the right hand of the conductor) was
replaced with the American, with both the
sections of the violins situated on the left-hand
side of the stage. Conductors eagerly use both,
as they change the sound relationships between
the instrument groups.
Ada Ginał
From No. 1 to No. 9
All of Beethoven’s symphonies under Paavo Järvi and performed by the Deutsche
Kammerphilharmonie Bremen made an appearance as guest at the Beethovenfest
in Bonn and the Salzburger Festspiele. Now, they arrive in Warsaw.
Paavo Järvi, winner of a Grammy award,
he is the head of the orchestras in Bremen,
the Hessischer Rundfunk symphonic
orchestra in Frankfurt, and the Cincinnati
Symphony Orchestra. In 2010, he will
assume the post held by Christoph
Eschenbach with the Orchestre de Paris.
The chamber orchestra from Bremen with
which he collaborates have recently caused
plenty of clamour with their interpretations
of Beethoven’s symphonies. They have
taken the programme on numerous concert
tours, gathering enthusiastic reviews all
over the world. In 2006, they entered
a recording studio to register the complete
symphonies for Sony Music. Late in 2009,
they closed the five-CD series with the
recording of the Ninth Symphony.
One might ask what another set of the nine
Beethoven masterpieces is for, especially
after the recordings by Toscanini and Solti,
Karajan, Kleiber and Abbado, and in recent
decades also by Norrington, Goodman,
Gardiner and Immerseel. When you listen
to the interpretations by Paavo Järvi,
the answer comes easily: to take delight
in the fresh and surprisingly vital
Beethoven. The individual discs, just like
the concert performances of the symphonies,
greatly deserve words of recognition
and of enthusiastic criticism. A reflection
of this may be awarding the first
of the albums (Eroica and Symphony No. 8)
with the annual Deutsche Schallplattenkritik
award in 2007.
Paavo Järvi and the Deutsche Kammerphilharmonie Bremen went for simple
and transparent interpretations, purifying
the music of Beethoven from the centuries
of residue. The effect is dazzling: finely
tuned nuances, and perfected detail.
The greatest pleasure is experienced
30th March – 3rd April, Warsaw Philharmonic – Concert Hall
by those who can entertain the luxury
of listening to these records with the score
in hand. The arches and the articulation,
the degrees of the dynamic scale,
and changes in the intensity of sound
and accents – everything just as Beethoven
marked it. The tempos are steadfast yet
highly convincing. A deep bow here to the
faithfulness to the metronomic timing.
Little wonder that these performances
surprise with a whole range of exposed solo
parts, and that they reveal detail which has
frequently been omitted lightheartedly.
For example, so far in the performing
tradition it has been difficult to find
a precedent for such a “realistic quality”
to the fluency of the whispering stream in
the second part of the “Pastoral” Symphony.
Marcin Majchrowski (Polskie Radio), asd
Last September, during
the Beethovenfest
in Bonn, Kammerphilharmonie
Bremen performed
all nine of the composer’s
symphonies.
Around Beethoven House
The Eight and the Ninth – in the finale of the cycle
– were listened to not only by the elegant
audience gathered in the Beethovenhalle, but also
by the crowd of thousands in the city’s market
square, where a gigantic TV screen was placed
by the rococo town hall.
Since 2005, Deutsche Kammerphilharmonie has
been the resident orchestra of the festival
organised in Bonn. It was invited by its general
director, Ilona Schmiel. “We owe a lot to her,”
admits Paavo Järvi, who will conduct a series of
Robert Schumann’s symphonies in Bonn this year.
The so-called Public Viewing, i.e. live transmissions
of the concerts in the market square, is also
the idea of Ilona Schmiel, who has a clear vision
of the festival that she has directed for six years,
and which she brought out from collapse. Today,
the budget of the festival amounts to nearly €5
million. Two thirds of the funds come from private businesses, that have established their bases
in the former capital of Germany and believed the
Beethovenfest Bonn brand to be worth developing.
Ilona Schmiel wants to go beyond the circle
of elitist music lovers. She seeks a young
audience, yet not at the cost of an ambitious
programme. Her festival is interdisciplinary in
character, as it includes the Look at Beethoven
competition for young filmmakers, jazz evenings,
and even hip-hop projects organised by students.
For a month, the small city lives the festival,
bedecked with banners, from which the passers
by are watched by the eyes of the stars: John Eliot
Gardiner, Kent Nagano, Valery Gergiev, Viktoria
Mullova, Maurizio Pollini, and Andreas Staier.
Also the Venezuelan conductor, Gustavo
Dudamel, today the 29-year-old head of the
Los Angeles Philharmonic, who Ilona Schmiel
invited to Bonn at the threshold of his career.
Following the initiative of the director of the
festival, it is possible that an ultra-modern version
of Beethovenhalle will be built by the Rhine,
with German companies eager to invest in excess
of €75 million. Zaha Hadid stands a good chance
of winning the competition for its architectural
form. Whether this will be the case will
be decided by a local referendum.
Wardrobe scattered on the floor,
or Beethoven anecdotes
Always late, a jealous, suspicious madcap,
and a scatterbrain to boot. A “politically incorrect”
portrait of the author of the Fifth Symphony.
Horrible as Beethoven
“Difficult character, unbridled personality”
– this is what Goethe said about Beethoven.
The composer’s character is imbalanced,
he may be fickle. He can be ungrateful,
and without a reason explode with anger
at anything. In fury, he breaks friendships,
shouting for example: “May he not visit me
any more! He’s a false dog, and these are
best dealt with by the dogcatcher.”
During one of his restaurant visits,
“he threw a full plate at the waiter, sauce
pouring all over the poor man’s eyes”.
And when, at dinner at a court, he realised
that he would not be seated next
to the Prince, “he snatched his hat,
and – offended – ostentatiously left”.
When one of the theatres dared criticise his
Fidelio, he claimed the score back, and with
a burning face slammed the door behind
him. His fury passes as quickly as it has set
in, and he frequently passes from anger
to tenderness and gentleness.
Pencil in hand
The composer does not part with his
pencil. He drafts music, writes down
expenditure. Pedantic in this matter,
he records: the purchase of wine, wigs,
piano rentals, spending on house servants,
teachers, and presents for friends.
His books include notes to the like
of “22 Kreutzers for chocolate for Haydn
and for myself”.
Well-groomed and handsome...
He regularly visited the wigmaker,
and purchased expensive tights. He had
a particular penchant for “thin underwear,
silken handkerchiefs, elegant frock coats”.
Yet there is plenty of contradiction even
here: frequently, having returned home,
he would throw these clothes on the
floorboards. Consequently, he frequently
put on his clothes having picked them
up from the floor.
Servants
Beethoven’s servants do not have an easy
life with the master. He changes them
as a rule every two years. He does not trust
them and hates the way they pester him
with everyday problems. “Tramps”,
and “devious people” are among the names
he gives to servants. The cook may cook
well, but she “is certainly scheming
and plots against Beethoven”. He charges
others with “breaking into the rooms
with a skeleton key” and having “murderous tendencies”. He is stingy. After a meal
he will lock up the cutlery, just in case.
Unpunctuality
He brings publishers, students and others
to the brink of despair with his failure
to keep time. He frequently finishes scores
a day before the works premiered. Asked
to look through Christian Schreiber’s
Polymnia and express his opinion about
the work, he initially extends the deadline
from eight days to three weeks, and later
still claims additional time, while Haydn
waits his turn.
Reluctance to teach
Beethoven is unwilling to give lessons.
He cancels them at the last moment, when
already standing in the door of his student,
and promises that the next time he comes
he will certainly teach two lessons, yet this
time he simply cannot do it.
Based on George R. Marek, Beethoven.
Biografia geniusza, translated by Ewa Życieńska,
W.A.B., 2009;
selection by Eliza Orzechowska.
... but quite untidy
He does not care for tidiness. His manuscripts are arranged in any way they can be:
on the floor, bed, furniture. Looking
for the right work “he tosses the papers
all over the room, bitterly moaning that
somebody has touched his property,
and that people cannot leave anything
in peace”.
He has also been known to pour ink
from the inkwell... straight into the piano.
Moving homes
Unable to gather moss anywhere, he
changes his addresses as frequently as his
servants. While in Vienna in 1792–1827,
Beethoven moves 33 times. Every season,
he goes to Baden or Heiligenstadt
for a summer holiday.
Anna S. Dębowska
www.beethovenfest.de
Beethoven’s studio, 1827, based on the drawing of Johann Nepomuk Hoechle.
B E E T H O V E N MAGAZINE
9
Warsaw, 21st March 2010, presentation of fashion inspired by the days of Chopin during
the inauguration of the Easter Festival at the Teatr Wielki – Polish National Opera.
Costumes were designed by
Dorota Krynicka,
Viola Śpiechowicz,
Izabela Łapińska,
Paprocki&Brzozowski,
Hexeline,
Ewelina Wróblewska,
Teresa Rosati.
Our
fashionable
Chopin
10
Silhouette of Chopin – the elegant
In Chopin’s day, the ideal of male good looks and handsome charm
differed extremely from today’s. The figure of the ideal man resembled
rather the contours of a woman: sloping arms, slender waist, and hips
standing out. Chopin – of slight build, thin, with little feet – fit the model
perfectly.
From head to toe
Chopin wore plenty of greys, light pearl, and marengo, i.e. dark grey.
Waistcoats of white silk, a black tailcoat with buttons in the same colour
for the evening, and a redingote, that is a double-breasted coat
or greatcoat for the day. The materials were wools and silks. Cambric
shirts were bought by the dozen in the passage by the Palais Royal
that exists to this day; they had collars and cuffs attached.
Trousers were plain, never pin-striped, very tight; they could not crease.
They were stretched tight on the body, thanks to the stirrup fastened
under the shoe (metal threads were woven into the material, to reinforce
the effect). Shoes? Well, in Paris Chopin’s patent leather shoes were
admired by the whole city. A decoration of an elegant man was a bamboo
walking stick with a golden orb, finished with ivory mother of pearl.
Fryderyk Chopin, Daguerrotype by L.-A. Bisson, before 1847
Became a dandy
Wilhelm Lenz: “Chopin was a young man of average height, lean, thin,
with a countenance of marked paleness – highly expressive,
and exceptionally exquisite in his manner. I have not yet had the chance
to meet an equally elegant person.”
Franz Liszt: “In his attitude there was so much distinction, and his manners
bore the mark of such a good upbringing that Paris treated him like a prince.”
“In Paris, he became a dandy. He always had his tailor, shoemaker
and glover; changed his hats every year, wore his Oxfords shiny,
and gloves of immaculate whiteness.”
Ryszard Przybylski, Cień jaskółki. Esej o myślach Chopina, Znak 2009
“In Chopin’s day – even in France – the true ideal of chic was the English attire,”
says Joanna Bojańczyk, fashion commentator of Rzeczpospolita national daily.
Anna S. Dębowska: Was Chopin a dandy?
Joanna Bojańczyk: from the accounts of his friends
we know what great significance he attached to his
appearance. His elegance was an element of a highly
thought through strategy; let us remember that he
aspired to the upper class, being of modest origin
himself. A dandy, he was beyond doubt.
Yet he dressed in a very subdued manner,
avoiding bright colours and eccentric cuts,
which was what the Parisian dandies tried
to shock with. Those florid waistcoats of theirs,
those coats in feline spots...
This was the type of dandified appearance which
first Balzac and later Baudelaire described as eager
to please and causing displeasure – plaire en
déplaisant in French. This was the extravagant
dandyism which opposed the prevailing rules
and was an attribute of the artists, of the boheme.
It was what Chopin was wary of. He had an inborn
sense of aesthetic measure in everything.
Perhaps he was just a gentleman...
An Englishman, George Brummel, the legislator
of dandyism, who earned himself the nickname
of Beau, i.e. beautiful, believed that true elegance
cannot make itself conspicuous, and should be
based on simplicity. He who makes it visible how
much work and money he has put into his appearance
is not a gentleman. And was not Brummel himself
rumoured to spend five hours getting ready,
and to clean his shoes in champagne?
Yet apparently that effort did not show. Chopin was
a dandy in Brummel’s understanding. He would
never have put on a tailcoat with golden buttons,
as his competitor, the piano virtuoso Kalkbrenner, did.
He stood out, moreover, he stood out in Paris,
the capital of fashion and elegance. It must have
been something special...
One of his students wrote that he was a person
dignified in a natural manner, which found its
expression in his graceful manner of being,
an inborn elegance. Paris society admired him
for that. He would, for example, order a waistcoat
and emphasise that it needed modest elegance,
and to be made of white silk. He held great store
by good soaps and scented waters. He surrounded
himself with beautiful objects. In Paris, he had his
own shoemaker and glover, and ordered his hats
from Dupont and tailcoats from Dautremont:
the best tailors in the capital.
Was such a particularity about clothing not
a type of effeminacy?
At that time, elegance was not perceived
as effeminacy. It was considered an attribute
of the gentleman. Mickiewicz was not let into
a casino as his tailcoat was dirty and his shirt
creased.
In the France of the 19th century, political views
were expressed by clothing and choice
of colours. Was dandyism something more
than just dressing up?
It was a way of perceiving the world as something
highly refined, artistic, and, at the same time,
opposition against the unified, drab, and cheerless
fashion of the bourgeois, and their pragmatic
ideology. Such an attitude was reinforced further
by Romanticism, and found reflection
in literature and art.
So was a dandy a gentleman, or an eccentric?
It depended on the country. In England, a true
dandy was a sophisticated man, even though it was
there that the word “dandy” acquired pejorative
connotations, as dandyism degenerated later.
In France, one was a provocateur, an eccentric.
And even though some – for example Stendhal or
Balzac – considered eccentricity something vulgar,
particularity about one’s appearance was itself
nothing bad.
Do we still meet dandies today?
Today, it has become diluted in the diverse
definitions of fashion. After all, in our day, attire
does not symbolise so unanimously social status
as it used to. The system of signs has changed: they
are more covert than they used to be. People in fact
dress the same way, it is only a question of the
brand and quality. Today, dandyism would simply
be illegible, it is already a historic notion.
Who dresses elegantly among famous musicians?
Krystian Zimerman is elegant in the good old
sense, yet he also introduces a more loose style;
he is rumoured to design his own jackets.
In a way, Piotr Anderszewski, a young rebel,
is also stylish. Yet Nigel Kennedy, in his Issey
Miyake clothes could – why not – be an equivalent
of a boheme dandy.
Yet I believe that all the people mentioned here
could feel rather put out by the term “dandy”,
as with time it has acquired such negative
connotations.
Interviewed by Anna S. Dębowska
Chopin at the table
He was very particular about refined attire and luxurious furnishing in his apartments.
Moreover, his sense of taste led him into sophisticated registers... The year of Chopin
provides a chance for a look at the composer from aspects that are not very well-known,
and one was selected by Wojciech Bońkowski.
Chopin left very few mentions of the subject, yet
resorting to historical sources, we can generally
reconstruct his “realm of taste”.
He spent his youth in the days when traditional
old Polish cuisine was still very much alive.
It abounded with meat, venison, aromatic spices,
and also with a variety of groats and buckwheat,
beetroots, celeriac, and carrot. It was quite partial
to the combinations of sweet and sour, peppery
and sour, and hotness that are alien to today’s
Polish cooking. Moreover, it absorbed the influences
of cuisines from different parts of Europe.
Did he go for midnight feasts?
The leading centres of old Polish cuisine were the
Magnate palaces and noblemen’s mansions.
It was there that culinary traditions were cherished.
Plenty of prominent space was taken by the vast
kitchen with an open hearth, on which meat – the
staple part of the menu at the time – was roasted.
There was also an oven for baking, where breads
and cakes were made all day long, and many
other dishes were baked. Feasting was the main
activity, which the plan of the day was subordinated
to. Five meals a day were eaten as a rule.
At the end of the day, it happened – especially
for the gentleman – that the so-called podkurek,
i.e. the late-night, was consumed.
Fryderyk Chopin must have become acquainted
with this familiar, homely cuisine during his days
in Żelazowa Wola, Antonin, Szafarnia, Sanniki,
and Poturzyn.
In Warsaw, where the Chopins resided from the
autumn of 1810, the elements of old Polish cuisine
were yielding to increasingly strong foreign
influences. Besides the roasts, groats and freshwater
fish, imported and colonial products readily
available in the city were reached for: oil, pasta,
parmesan, chestnuts, pineapples. The classics
of Polish bourgeois cuisine were taking shape:
the borscht, bullion, beef roulades, boiled beef.
There was plenty to choose from in the wine
12
cellars. Fryderyk’s father, Mikołaj Chopin, stocked
up on wines from Chablis and Sauternes with
Milewski in Długa street.
Appetising consumption of strudels
The letters of the young Chopin, who travelled
a lot, mention his gourmet adventures and preferences. In 1825, he wrote the famous letter to Jan
Matuszyński about gingerbread cakes from Toruń,
and reported from Prague and Vienna on the most
fashionable restaurants, including Zur Böhmischen
Köchin and Zum wilden Mann. This is what he
wrote to his family in 1830: “‘The Wild Man’,
which is the name of the perfect inn where
we eat, charged for the appetising consumption
of strudels a whole Vereinsthaler plus a handful
of Kreutzers.”
In Paris
At the time, the capital of France was going
through rapid gastronomic transformations.
The prodigal feasts of the ancien régime, described
by Brillat-Savarin in The Physiology of Taste, were
yielding to the cuisine of the bourgeoisie.
The gastronomic centre of Paris was shifting from
the princely palaces to the fashionable restaurants.
Chopin lived in rue Tronchet and by Square
d’Orléans, that is in districts abundant with
restaurants. He must have known the famous spots:
Stohrer’s confectionery standing to this day in rue
Montorgueil, and the Le Grand Véfour restaurant, too.
The patrons of the latter included George Sand,
the partner of the Polish composer, who – while in
Nohant – had the habit of entertaining guests with
dishes of her own design (gathered in the recently
published book entitled À la table de George Sand).
Chopin wrote about his love of chocolate, but we
know that he did not stay away from wines while
in Paris. With Józef Brzowski, he treated himself
to Rüdesheimer and Rhine Riesling; he also drank
champagne, which was experiencing a renaissance
and was served in society on virtually any occasion.
In 1849, in a bar in the Champs-Élysées, Chopin,
together with Delacroix, drained a bottle – most
probably of Bordeaux – the heart of the wine diet
of the Parisians.
Oysters, asparagus, cigars
The best description of Chopin’s gourmet
preferences we owe to a friend of his, Józef
Brzowski, who thus accounted for an evening
in the summer of 1837: “when the clocks showed
six, myself, Chopin, and one of his friends
[Matuszyński] reached Montorgueil Street,
famous for the countless number of places to eat,
and the capital city’s prime fish stores. Situated
there for a long time had been the famous
first-class restaurant under the name of Rocher
de Cancal [...]. Thus we had a studio for three.
We could make ourselves very comfortable in it.
Standing on the table in the centre was a book
with the menu, a quarter sheet of blank paper,
ink and pen. [...] Chopin wrote down what we
expected to be served, and the garçon awaiting
the orders soon received appropriate instructions
in writing. Before long we were served...
We began with oysters – delicious! The soup
followed: purée de gibier – exquisite! Then we were
served matlot. In its perfect make and exquisite
taste, the dish – matching ambrosia itself –
proudly challenged us to remember that it was
at Rocher de Cancal that we were dining. Then
we were served the asparagus – beyond praise.
Other delicacies followed, and true champagne
sumptuously accompanied everything. With
cigars in mouths, we ventured to Tortoni
for a coffee.” The restaurant Au Rocher de Cancale
is still situated in rue Montorgeuil in the second
district of Paris, offering oysters and similar
dishes. With a bottle of champagne, why
shouldn’t we feel like Chopin and Brzowski?
Wojciech Bońkowski
An extended version of this article is to be published in Chopin Magazine.
In the photo: Martin Drölling, Kitchen Interior, 1815, Louvre, Paris
200th anniversary
of birth of Robert Schumann
The lyrical
pianist
“For every pianist, Schumann is a unique
experience: it is about following upon his
character, artistic path, and wit,”
says Eric Le Sage, who will perform two
recitals based on music of Carnaval’s author.
The French pianist belongs to a peculiar group
of artists. Possessing very high fluency and virtuoso
skills, he does not try to amaze his audience
with the speed of playing and overcoming
difficulties in a brilliant manner.
At every moment, he is a poet seeking for lyricism
and the song sources of instrumental music
in the greatest of musical dramas.
He will be the first pianist in the history of recording
to release Schumann’s complete piano works – solo
and accompanied (for the French label Alpha).
Kacper Miklaszewski: The programmes of today’s
recitals more rarely feature Schumann and
Mendelssohn than Chopin and Liszt. Why?
Eric Le Sage: Schumann is more risky. The work
needs to be given a flawless sound form, otherwise
the reaction of the listeners is far weaker.
Where did you get the idea of recording the piano
works from?
I fell in love with Schumann’s music listening
to my professor, Maria Curcio, explaining
the Davidsbündlertänze (Dances of the League
of David). I was 18 at the time, and played quite a few
of his works – but not as many as Chopin’s or Liszt’s,
which are more useful for developing your piano
competence. Maria Curcio had the gift of examining
the world of the composers she loved.
What is the place that Schumann holds
among his contemporary composers?
He was a critic, a poet, in search of learning the essence
of what was happening around him. He wrote three
beautiful texts about Chopin, Brahms, Mendelssohn,
Berlioz. Very quickly he found his space, his language.
Beginning with the Papillons op.2, his world is poetic
without exceptions. Schumann was a master who never
fell into an empty bathos or simple sentimentalism;
was far removed from romantic kitsch, which had
to be fought against.
Why are some cycles performed often – for example
Fantasiestücke Op. 12 and Kinderszenen Op. 15 – and
others more rarely – for example Nachtstücke Op. 23,
Drei Phantasiestücke Op. 111, and Gesänge der Frühe
Op. 133?
Some works are earmarked to something like a personal
interpretation, not for use in the grand concert halls.
They are capable of surprising and stimulating.
At times, they are capable even of shocking the listeners;
yet this is not the reason why they find their way into
concert programmes more rarely. It is the beautiful
fragments of the Opp. 23, 111, and 133 that Roland
Barthes had in mind when he said that Schumann’s
music acquires its meaning when it is played for oneself.
The performer must build his own bridge to the world
of Schumann, establish contact with him – like with
another human. This is the secret of that music,
and the task of a concert pianist is to let the listener
into that secret.
Schumann’s piano music is not “to hand”, like
the works of Chopin and Liszt. It seems harder...
It is not often comfortable, yet it sounds fine when
one knows what one wants to achieve! You cannot
let yourself be unsaddled from the keyboard by a flow
of emotion. At times, the score may in this sense
overburden the performer, for which reason you
need to be watchful at all times, and not let yourself
be beguiled by the often repeated, near mesmerising
rhythms.
For every pianist, Schumann is a unique experience:
one can surrender more to the drama, greater energy
or heroism, introspection and melancholy. The great
cycles – as does every masterpiece – carry a number
of levels of meanings: they can be read in various ways.
I am sometimes shocked by the variety of emotions
that are inspired in me for example by Humoreske
and Kreisleriana.
Do you perform this music on historical instruments?
I recorded the Trio, Quartet and Quintet on a Steinway
D of the first generation, from 1875. I believe this
instrument to be ideal for these compositions,
as it allows the clarity of the play to be maintained
without the risk of covering the cello parts,
and the legato to be conducted in a very clear tone.
I did not imagine skipping the exceedingly rich
chamber music of Schumann, which is a part
of his pianist world.
Interviewed by Kacper Miklaszewski
Schumann: episode eight
Eric Le Sage is growing to be the leading
ambassador of the works of Robert Schumann.
The gigantic cycle which he has recorded since
2006 for the French label Alpha (to include
20 pieces) unveils an unknown face of the
great romanticist. The details, very meticulously
fished out by Le Sage, prove that Schumann’s
heritage is more than just Papillons
and Carnaval Op. 9. In the eighth stage
of the series, Le Sage reaches for the rarely
played Allegro in B flat minor, Faschingsschwank
aus Wien Op. 26, and Etudes After Paganini
Caprices Opp. 3 and 10. The first of the pieces
captivates primarily with Le Sage’s profound
understanding of the composer’s intent. In the
Allegro dedicated to Ernestine von Fricken,
Schumann’s first fiancée, bathos is an easy trap
to fall into. Yet the Frenchman spreads
the accents in a masterly manner, much like
in the Faschingsschwank aus Wien. Visible
in the stylistically different parts is a spectrum
of juxtapositions, so characteristic of Schumann’s
idiom. Again, Le Sage proves his ability to findi
himself perfectly within the labyrinth
and thickets of the articulational and dynamic
uncertainties. Yet the true gem on the record
is the Etudes After Paganini Caprices. This third
opus was published in 1832. In a letter to his
mother, Schumann wrote that all the miniatures
should be interpreted as exercises. And yet,
in Le Sage’s manner of performance there is
plenty of room for fluency and ease. How
different is that Paganini from Brahms’s
monumental Paganini Variations.
Marta Nadzieja
Robert Schumann, Klavierwerke & Kammermusik
– VIII,, Eric Le Sage (Alpha)
Eric Le Sage (1964) graduated from the Paris
Conservatory at the age of 17, then honed his skills
in London under Maria Curcio. In 1989, he won the
First Prize in the Schumann Competition in Zwickau,
and a year later Third Prize at the Competition in Leeds.
Le Sage is keen on works that are not performed often,
and holds in his repertoire over 20 piano concertos
by Dvořák, Schönberg, Stravinsky, Britten, and others.
He has recorded all the piano works of Francis Poulenc,
and was invited by Alexandre Tharaud to record
Eric Sati’s works for four hands together with him.
Monday, 29th and Tuesday, 30th March, 5 pm, Warsaw Philharmonic – Concert Hall
B E E T H O V E N MAGAZINE
13
The programme of the 15th Ludwig van Beethoven Easter Festival will make reference
to the two great jubilees observed next year: the 200th anniversary of the birth of Franz Liszt,
and the 100th anniversary of the death of Gustav Mahler.
2011: Jubilee of the Festival
Two great works by Mahler will be produced: Symphony No. 2: “Resurrection” conducted
by Antoni Wit, and Des Knaben Wunderhorn under Hubert Soudant. Liszt will be present
in piano and symphonic works produced by Stephen Hough, Muza Rubackyte (recitals)
and the National Polish Radio Symphony Orchestra Katowice conducted by Soudant
(Faust Symphony and other works).
As many as three passions will be performed: first, Johann Sebastian Bach’s St. John Passion
conducted by Rolf Beck, and the Passion Der Tod Jesu, composed by Carl Heinrich Graun
30 years later, performed by Akademie für Alte Musik Berlin together with Collegium
Vocale Gent. In the final concert of the festival, we will hear Krzysztof Penderecki’s St Luke
Passion, conducted by the composer himself: a work that has not been performed live
for quite some time.
As always, the festival will host established symphonic ensembles. This time their number
will include the Dresden Philharmonic under John Axelrod, Lahti Symphony Orchestra,
Wurttemberg Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Ola Rudner, and Berlin Radio
Symphony Orchestra, who will perform Richard Wagner’s Wesendonk Lieder with Petra
Lang as soloist, under the baton of Marek Janowski.
Plans include two operatic productions. The first is Beethoven’s Fidelio conducted by Marco
Guidarini (with the part of Leonore performed probably by Bettine Kampp or Elisabete
Matos). Łukasz Borowicz will revive an early Gaetano Donizetti opera entitled Maria Padilla.
Enthusiasts of Rudolf Buchbinder will be satisfied, as he will complete the series of all
Beethoven sonatas, and perform – with Sinfonietta Cracovia – all his piano concertos
in a single day.
“Master classes for vocalists will be conducted by Kiri Te Kanawa, and for chamber
musicians by Fine Arts Quartet,” Elżbieta Penderecka, the General Director of the Easter
Festival, has announced.
Plans also include jubilee events of the festival held in Warsaw’s Zachęta Gallery. “We are
organising an exhibition of five artists who have designed the festival posters in recent
years; with Bartek Materka, Marcin Maciejowski, and probably Wilhelm Sasnal.
In collaboration with the Director of Zachęta, Agnieszka Morawińska, we will lend the space
of the gallery so that they manage it and fill it with their works inspired by music, also new
ones,” discloses Andrzej Giza, Director of the Ludwig van Beethoven Association.
The work of Jakub Julian Ziółkowski (born 1980) which will become the visual
identifier of the 15th Easter Festival.