Chopin & Konstanza, Piano Concerto No 2

Chopin, a timorous lover

In October 1829, a year before leaving Warsaw on the way to Vienna for the second time, Frédéric Chopin wrote his dear friend Tytus a long letter. Part of it reads:

"Perhaps to my misfortune I have found my ideal, which I worship faithfully and sincerely. Six months have now passed and I have not yet exchanged a word with her of whom I nightly dream. Whilst thinking of her I composed the Adagio of my concerto [...] It is bitter to have no one with whom one can share joy or sorrow, to feel one's heart oppressed, and to be unable to express one's complaints to any human soul,"

Konstanza Gladkowska (1810 - 1889)

The ideal to which Frédéric refers – the object of his love, if it could be said – responded to the beautiful name of Konstancja Gladkowska, a graceful girl who wanted to become a soprano, and who, like Frédéric, took hours off to meet the high demands of the Warsaw Conservatoire.

On countless occasions, they ran into each other in the hallways and their gazes met, but the young Chopin, about to finish his studies, either did not have time, or was not in the mood, or simply did not dare to approach her. Although the pretexts for doing so were not lacking, as they had to attend some classes together and on more than one occasion, Frédérick played before her or even had to accompany her on the piano. But, as far as we know, the occasion for a conversation alone never came.

Our beloved Chopin is afraid to declare his love and suffers for it. Already at the age of nineteen, he has made the decision to cultivate that state of soul to keep love at bay and thereby turn it into music, in this specific case, in the Adagio of his first piano concerto. But more than a few words must have crossed, because otherwise it is not explained that Constance, shortly before Chopin left Warsaw, has written down, although as one more of those who stamp a farewell on Frédéric's album, a couple of verses, of which we transcribe here the last stanza.

"So that the laurel wreath never fades,
you leave your dear friends, your beloved family.
Strangers will be able to appreciate you better, reward you,
but of course they can't love you more than us! "

Chopin, in love with love, has no other impulse than to write down, at the end of the verses: "Yes, they can."

Concerto No. 2 in F minor
Maestoso - Larghetto (14:14) - Allegro vivace (22:25)
L'Orchestre philharmonique de Radio France conducted by Mikko Franck. At the piano, the master Nelson Freire,

Frédéric Chopin's concerto in F minor bears the number two but was the first he composed, at age 19. (A few months later the second will appear, in E minor, which bears No. 1.) With a classical structure in three movements, its premiere was held on March 17, 1830. Chopin rented the Warsaw National Theater. Three days before the premiere he was flooded by joy when he found out that all the seats were sold.

The reception was warm, from audience and critics to the point that five days later he was forced to offer a second concert, with the room packed again. The second movement, larghetto, produced a great effect, for the second time. But Chopin has not got bigheaded. He writes to a friend:

"...Finally, I improvised, which greatly pleased the first tier boxes. ... I did not improvise as I should have wished to do; it would have been not for that public. Nevertheless, I am surprised that the Adagio was so generally admired; wherever I turn, I hear only about the Adagio. [An attendant] asked me for my portrait, but I could not allow that, as it would be too much at once, and I don't want anyone to wrap up butter in me..."

Clara Schumann, Nocturne No 2, Op 6

A pianist, composer and mother of eight children

Although it may seem strange in our day, Clara Schumann was one of the few pianists of her time who performed in public playing from memory. Born in Leipzig in 1819, she made her formal debut at the age of eleven, in the famous Gewandhaus Hall, and by eighteen she had already toured Germany, France and Austria. On the death of her husband Robert, she had to assume the role of "family provider" and thus became one of the very few women – if not the only one – who could develop a successful international career as a concert pianist in the mid-19th century.

Clara was the daughter of Friedrich Wieck, a talented piano teacher from Leipzig. To Wieck's house the future composer Robert Schumann came to stay, as was the custom, to attend daily classes with the teacher. Clara was eleven years old, Robert twenty. Ten years later they will marry, after overcoming the countless pitfalls arranged by Friedrich. Afterwards, as a result of a self-inflicted injury to a finger of his right hand, Robert abandoned his career as an interpreter forever. So, Clara had to take the task of publicizing the work of her husband in Europe, along with her own, in addition to that of Bach, Doménico Scarlatti, Beethoven, Schubert and, of course, Johannes Brahms.

Despite both developing an intense musical career, the couple had eight children who, upon returning from their tours – which could last several months – had to care for and, simultaneously, resume their piano lessons and sit down to compose. These circumstances, which could have weakened the partner relations, were nevertheless beneficial for both: Robert urged Clara to compose, and she transcribed Robert's orchestral works on the piano to make them known on tour. In return for such dedication, Robert included in his own work several quotes from passages born from Clara's inventiveness.

Six of the eight children of Clara
and Robert Schumann

With Robert's passing in 1856, the composer-pianist was widowed at age 37. She resumed her tours, which she had suspended as a result of her husband's long and painful mental illness, reconquering her audience and becoming the most brilliant concert player of the 19th century. But she stopped composing. Since then, her aim was the disclosure of her husband's work, focusing on the publication and reissue of his music. Clara's last public performance was in 1891, although she continued to teach at the Hoch Conservatory in Frankfurt until her death on May 20, 1896.

Clara Schumann's work is not fully known to us. We know that it contains pieces for solo piano, songs for voice and piano, chamber music, orchestra and choral music. The piece we are listening to, made up by 15-year-old Clara, bears the number 2 of her opus 6, a set of short pieces titled Soirees Musicales.
The rendition is by the Danish pianist Bart von Oort.

Generally speaking, Clara's output remained practically unknown during her life, although after 1870 some interest arose in publishing her works. It was not until the second half of the twentieth century that part of her work was published, but much of it is not yet public knowledge because it belongs to private collections. Inexplicably, too, the Encyclopedia Britannica, 1984 edition, does not contain an exclusive entry for Clara in its macropedia.