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There is a romantic image connected with the piano music of Chopin, and especially with his nocturnes. A candlelit, elegant salon filled with ladies of all ages, fashionably dressed. Many are swooning or about to. Chopin, his delicate features lit by some inner vision as his lean, aesthetic fingers draw from the keys the most ephemeral tracery, while George Sand stands nearby puffing on a cigar.
The scene may be somewhat fanciful and overdrawn, but it is part of the Chopin legend, and it has rubbed off on a number of pianists since the composer’s time who have sought to rekindle his image in the concert hall. There is a great temptation to turn this wonderful music into a kind of romantic mush, to linger languidly over every turn of phrase until the music falls apart into a series of fleeting wisps of pink clouds.
Artur Rubinstein was one of the great figures on putting that portion of the legend to rest. His playing of Chopin was a revelation. Most of all, it revealed the strength, the richness of imagination, the sheer genius that lies embedded in the music itself. He gave Chopin stature, made him not merely the beloved panderer to the romantic tastes of the salon, but a composer whose every measure was full of daring and powerful musical thrust. — Alan Rich
Here is Artur Rubenstein playing Chopin Nocturne Op. 72 – No. 1 in E Minor
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