Maria Szymanowska: Etudes and Nocturnes

Born in 1789, in Warsaw, Poland, Maria Szymanowska became an accomplished pianist in the early 19th century, starting with her 1810 debut. Within the year, she travelled to Paris where it is believed she performed privately in salons. Five years later, she began performing professionally, and in 1822 began touring. Szymanowska quickly became internationally acclaimed, admired by celebrities of the day such as Goethe and Rossini. She also found time to compose, writing over 100 pieces, almost all for piano.

First off, I was excited to see my choice was on vinyl at the library. I had not played a vinyl since high school, sitting for hours in my parent’s loft and listening to old Beatles and Elton John records that belonged to my mom. This "blast from the past" experience fit well with what Maria had in store for me. Her works described and discussed here show her brilliant style and love for the emerging techniques of her time, as well as her love with the traditions of the past. The best example of this is found in her Nocturne found on this album.

At first the Nocturne reminded me of the light, pleasant style of Mozart and other classical piano virtuosos, but that impression changed as it suddenly began moving faster and making a large crescendo, then sighing back, then modulating into a minor key. The interest and sound grew and ebbed throughout the work, giving almost a kaleidoscope view of the classical and romantic genres. When the album’s sleeve described her music as “transitional between the classical and romantic styles,” I did not realize it was going to happen so literally in one piece!

Szymanowska’s works are simply wonderful! They have a beautiful mix of Classical and Romantic styles in a pleasurable way. According to the record sleeve, Goethe agreed, as she had inspired some of his poems. Something, however, became unsettling to me as I read a review on her by Robert Schumann, also on the album’s sleeve:

We often heard this feminine Field, and to judge by these studies, not without reason… if we detect the vacillating woman in form and harmony, we also find the woman full of feeling, who has much more to say, if only she knew how.

Robert Schumann’s descriptions are blindingly clear that he dare not forget to mention Maria’s sex, first, in comparing her to Field in dubbing her the “feminine Field,” and then ending with a comment that sounds as if he wanted to say, “She’s pretty good… for a girl.” This I found to be insulting at first, but then decided to first put more research into what the statement could mean before drawing the conclusion that he was being blatantly sexist. I first listened to the John Field Sonatas suggested in the syllabus, and found the pieces to be quite beautiful as well, but comparatively dry in emotion and interest to the works of Szymanowska. This could be in part because of the performer’s interpretations, or because I was especially fond of Szymanowska’s style. I then found evidence that she was in fact a pupil of John Field, and was also dubbed the “Polish Field” for it. (Dawes, 1971) I was then able to excuse Schumann’s calling her the “feminine Field,” but to mention then twice more about her gender seems unnecessary. The only reason I could find for this was as discussed in class: the romantic views of women’s work being inferior to men’s.

Whether some of her works should be included in the canon is debatable. There is not doubt that I believe these works to be superb, but I believe that the canon should be a little more limited than it has been. After all, if we keep adding to it, then being named a canon is no longer outstanding.

But regardless, Maria Szymanowska deserves celebration.