I just ended up piano practice with the magical work, Chopin Ballade No. 3, which is very difficult to play for me. So I nearly took much time on it this morning. Everyone who knows me and my interests on piano loves Chopin as much as I do all the time, because I always tell them everything I had known about him, and they usually get addicted into his musical melodies. As all known, Frédéric Chopin is the only one of the world's great composers whose music is entirely devoted to the piano. In everything Chopin wrote, I could clearly hear that elegant and powerful simplicity no matter how complex. His work could never keep to that era of darkness and cruelty and instead betrayed what that history represented, creating 169 works in his tragically short lifetime, most of which were full of moonbeams and longing, sweeping passion and revolutionary outburst.
Ballade No.3 is surely hard for me, I doubt I would spend whole time practicing and talking about it in following month, because I do love this piece, and I am always looking for my deepest soul from it, feeling how Chopin created and played it to depict his sense of return from which he thought he could never kiss and love his motherland; feeling how the dissonance as an architectural device was used; feeling how all those wonderful melodies had been created. That’s so moved and even challenged to me.
No comments:
Post a Comment