April: Chopin's Prelude in B-flat Major

Chopin's Prelude in B-flat Major, Opus 28, Number 21, is dominated by patterns in which two notes in unison or close to each other move farther and farther apart from each other, usually in the bass. It seems like this prelude is continually opening up throughout. When I hear those chords, I imagine a flower blooming in fast motion. So this is the Opening Up Prelude. I call it "April" because "April" means opening up; it is similar to the Spanish word abrir, meaning to open. The prelude is not too hard to play although there are some stretches here and there.

To me this prelude symbolizes the never-ending quest for truth and meaning, the fourth principle of my religious group, Unitarian Universalism. It starts with the opening up portions in the bass. To me this symbolizes Discovery, the things we find out about our existence that we have not known before. It is a never ending quest of constant opening up. Occasionally a discovery comes that is so dramatic that it seems that we found The Answer. This appears in the prelude as the booming, blaring middle part in the key of G-flat. It sounds like the Ultimate Trumpet above saying "This is The Answer!!". It is so perfect in harmony and its chords are so loud and clear that we feel that we have found the answer for everything. But look again. This passage is almost all on black keys. It seems that we have ignored a lot. At best it is only a partial answer. So we look at it again and get doubts about it. In the prelude this comes out as the G-flat 7 part, which comes in like a question mark. That F-flat makes the chord unsettled. It is not even the usual type of flat. People think of flats as being black keys, but this one is a white key, the one normally called E. It makes us wonder. Do we have the answer? We begin to have doubts. The revelation begins to lose some of its sparkle. Then the prelude reverts back to the April part where everything opens up. It concludes with the opening-ups still continuing. To me these musical blooms remind me of a part of The Truth opening up to us. Sometimes they strike us like a G-flat thunderbolt, only to have a 7th note take the wind out of the bolt. So what do we do with these blooms? Treasure them while they last. Take advantage of each one, but remember that there is more to life than just these few blooms.

Sorrow of a Nation: Chopin's Prelude in C Minor

Chopin's Prelude in C Minor, Opus 28, Number 20, is the most famous of Chopin's Opus 28 preludes. It is part of the repertoire of every moderately advanced youthful piano student and is played frequently at public gatherings, especially funerals and memorial services. It has even become part of a popular rock song in the 1980s. It is in the form of a funeral march, starting out loud and then going soft before building up at the end. It features huge chords which descend the depths of the piano and a melody which practically sings. To me, this mournful sorrow expresses the sorrow of one of Chopin's home countries, Poland. So I follow Joseffy's commentary and call it "Sorrow of a Nation".

Poland has not had a happy history. It was a kingdom at one time in the middle of the second millennium, but Germans, Austrians, and Russians subsequently invaded it and caused it to cease to exist for hundreds of years. It finally gained independence in 1918, only to be divided up again between Russia (Soviet Union) and Germany in World War II, followed by two generations of Communist rule. It is now a democracy, but for most of its history it has not been a good place to live, including Chopin's time, when it was occupied mainly by Russia. I believe that Chopin had Poland in mind when he wrote this song, and he aspired desperately for the day when his country could be its own nation again. In playing it, feel the sorrow of Poland and this will give you a good idea of the dynamics that should be used. In the first stanza, a stanza that runs G7, C7, F-minor feels like it should resolve to the C major again, especially since G major follows it. But it goes instead to C minor - make sure to play E flat instead of E. A magnificent tragic prelude.

Puzzle-Piece Syndrome

I ran into a syndrome which is ubiquitous throughout human existence. It occurs when a concept or entity appears in two different forms, and then is regarded by people as being two different objects. An example might be "annual leave" and "PTO". A person knowing what annual leave might be bewildered as to why she loses some annual leave because of something called PTO. Then she finds that PTO is "paid time off", and is the same as annual leave. Another possibility is a transaction between two check accounts. It shows up as $436.74 in one account but as $992.33 in another, because it got included with some other deposits. These don't appear the same, so one records these both into Quicken, and so the $436.74 deposit into the receiving account gets counted twice, resulting in an overdraft. I call it "Puzzle piece syndrome" because it reminds me of the situation in which there are two clumps of put-together puzzle pieces. Then one finds pieces that fit into these that cause them to come together to form one piece.

Mathematics abounds with instances of Puzzle-Piece Syndrome. For example equations such as x² + 2x - 3 = 0 looks like a series of symbols, and a parabola looks like a curve that a home run makes. But when one plots the equation on paper, the equation turns into a parabola. Understanding the Universe may be one giant case of Puzzle-Piece Syndrome. Magnetism enables a piece of metal to pick up nails and tacks. Electricity causes sparks and makes a current flow through a wire. These don't look at all the same. But they are. To demonstrate that, coil an electric wire about a metal core and the core will pick up nails and tacks when the wire is plugged in. Or, move a piece of metal back and forth across a powerful magnet. This will light a light bulb. In other words, electricity and magnetism are the same. In the same way, Einstein finds that gravity, which makes me fall down from a ladder, and inertia, which makes me fall forward when I trip on a badly constructed sidewalk, are the same. Later on, physicists find that gravity and electromagnetism are the same, so it appears as though understanding the Universe is like solving one big jigsaw puzzle. We have many pieces in place but not all, so we continue to find ways of combining things, of finding instances of Puzzle Piece Syndrome. So it is more than just incomprehensible acronyms and overdrawn check accounts that come from Puzzle Piece Syndrome. It's the very understanding of our Universe that comes from it, for Life indeed is One Big Jigsaw Puzzle without End.

Excelsior: Chopin's Prelude in E-flat Major

It took me a long time to figure out what to call Chopin's Opus 28, Number 19 in E-flat. It is a waltz or gavotte of some sort, but it did not seem to have any unusual features. Recently when I played it I noticed that I was having to stretch my hand longer and longer in the treble until eventually I was having to span two octaves with each hand, making this a prelude that is difficult to learn to play. The theme of higher and higher has appeared before, as lower and lower in Opus 28, Number 15 ("Dream") and in Posthumous Etude Number 2 ("Mercury"). I thought of "Higher and Higher" as a name for this prelude but that is the name of a pop song, and I wanted something more interesting. Then I thought of it: Excelsior, which means "ever upward" in Latin and is the motto of my home state, New York. As such it is an inspiring prelude, with its striving to hit loftier and loftier heights, and it fits neatly between the fits of anger of its predecessor and the tragedy of its successor.

Virtuoso: Chopin's Prelude in F Minor

Have you ever wanted to get up on a stage and sing a few broad and loud phrases to a sophisticated audience? That is what this piece suggests to me. Chopin's Prelude in F Minor, Opus 28, Number 18, suggests such virtuosity; hence the name, "Virtuoso". It starts with an angry argument that ends in a harsh, off-balance discord, based on F-G-flat. It repeats this argument and then goes into an arpeggioistic fit, followed by the same arguing line, this time in the sub-dominant key of B-flat minor. It then proceeds through a bunch of quarreling phrases, including some with a banging E double-flat in four octaves, and then it descends into the bass, where it mutters and fades into the final chords. It takes a bit of practice to get the running lines down, but once you do, you get a sort of satisfaction out of playing the phrases and then banging the keys when the downbeat chord occurs, sort of like punching a punching bag. It's a good piece to play if you want to boast about your piano-playing ability, or if you want to get some anger off your chest. Take your frustrations out on this piece instead of on your neighbor for raking onto your lawn, and you will be calmer and better able to deal with the crisis. This is one of his better preludes.

Autumn Idyll: Chopin's Prelude in A-flat Major

This is a magnificent prelude. Opus 28, Number 17 features luscious harmonies and harmonic transitions, a sonorous melody, and a majestic bass that at times reminds me of a huge organ at a cathedral, not to mention the 13 chiming bass A-flats in the last part of the piece that reminds me of a bell tolling out 13 o'clock. To me it reminds me of one of these gorgeous days in the autumn (or in the spring) in the park under the trees, sunny with moderately cool winds, that entice you to spend the entire afternoon out in the park sitting and admiring the nature that is around us. It is one that I learned when I was a child. The most interesting part was that with many of the chords, the left hand overlaps the right, so that if you are not careful, you stumble all over the place on the keyboard when you play it. It starts out with the melody in 6/8 time, or maybe a fast 3/4 waltz. It does have some unexpected transitions, such as E-flat to D-flat instead of the more usual B-flat 7. This tripped me up when I played it for my piano teacher - I kept wanting to play D natural instead of D-flat. It then goes four keys flatwise, and thus into sharps, into the key of E. The harmonies then go from one key to another - C-sharp minor, E7, D-sharp major, C-sharp major and so forth, finally winding up in an alteration between E-flat and A-flat minor. We then return to the main theme, but this time with the volume of an enormous church organ, as the bass hits the lowest keys of the piano. It then goes into a variation of the alternate theme, then goes back into a plain A-flat ending with its bell-like series of A-flats in the bass. This is a piece I want to hear over and over again, and I hope to hear it at a concert sooner or later.

Scurrying: Chopin's Prelude in B-flat Minor

Chopin's Prelude Opus 28, Number 16 runs all over the place and is not the easiest to master. It features jumpy triples of notes in the bass, and a scurrying around in the treble going up and down the black keys of the piano, with an occasional breakout to the white keys to provide the F7 dominants. I tried playing it and although I could get the general action of the running up and down the keyboard, I could not get it perfect, and coordinating it with the jumpy left hand is even harder yet. The entire piece reminds me of someone running around and scurrying all over the place, sort of like a mouse running all about the floor looking for cheese or for a place to hide from the cat. So I call this one "Scurrying". It continues for four pages of printed music scurrying almost non-stop until it drifts down into the bass, sort of like the mouse finding the hole in the wall, and then pum! pum! it's all over; he's in his hole. Chopin does not break any ground with this one with the usual standard harmonies of B-flat minor, E-flat minor, and F7th. But it still is an interesting one to listen to, and it will get your heart pumping.

By the way, I have now posted a web page consisting entirely of Chopin's Opus 28. Not all the links work on it yet, because this page will not go ahead of this blog. After I blog a prelude, I will also put it on the web page.

Storm: Chopin's Prelude in D-flat Major

This, along with Number 17 (A-flat) and Number 20 (C minor) is one of the more well-known pieces in Chopin's Opus 28. This one, Number 15, is usually called the Raindrop Prelude because of the constant A-flat eighth notes pitter-pattering in the bass like a light rain shower. The beginning and end of this piece are tranquil, something like the F-sharp or A major preludes, like a pretty day out in the garden. But that is not what makes this piece notable. To me the most characteristic part of this prelude is the middle part, a troubled C-sharp minor passage that reminds me either of a bad dream, or of the tranquil day represented by the rest of the piece interrupted by a storm, replete with thunder. I therefore call this one "Storm". It is the longest C-sharp minor passage in the Preludes of Opus 28, even longer than the C-sharp minor (Opus 10) Prelude itself. The song starts tranquilly, with a constant series of A-flat eighth notes, but then all of a sudden during a resolution from an E-flat 7 chord, it not only changes mood but name as well: the A-flats become G-sharps as the piece enters the C-sharp storm. The G-sharps keep pattering away, while an ominous series of chords accumulate in the bass. These eventually resolve into bangs, symbolizing thunder. The storm continues to rage, featuring a strange resolution from G-sharp minor to B augmented and back to G-sharp minor again. After the thunder reaches a climax, the rest of the C-sharp minor part develops melody, perhaps symbolizing the rainstorm and finally calming down and going back to the tranquil part as the G-sharps become A-flats again. The piece naturally has to flip-flop from flats to sharps when it goes into minor; else we have a passage in C-sharp Major (rare) or in D-flat minor (impossible). But to me this transition from flats to sharps also symbolizes the subtle and sudden change of moods from happy to sullen and back again.

It is not too hard to learn; the main problem is that many of the chords have overlapping hands - the highest left hand note is higher than the lowest right hand one. This can cause a good deal of stumbling while playing it for the first few times. This prelude is a good one to put into a program such as Cakewalk - I would insert audio thunderclaps to coincide with the musical ones in the middle part. Although I have found stronger storms in Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony Number 6, in Ferde Grofé's Grand Canyon Suite, in Igor Stravinsky's Le Sacre du Printemps or in Andreas Vollenweider's recording from an actual thunderstorm in his album Behind the Garden, I regard this as one of the better preludes of this opus.