Waiting for Chopin

Reflections on the film “Pianists: Defining Chopin” in the context of the 18th International Fryderyk Chopin Piano Competition
Bożena U. Zaremba

Every five years, my world comes to a halt as I completely immerse myself in the beautiful music of Fryderyk Chopin and let myself be swept away to a magical realm, where emotions, reflections, and spiritual ventures range from a soft zephyr to a powerful hurricane. For the 18th International Fryderyk Chopin Piano Competition, we had to wait a little bit longer than usual. Still, the thrill experienced during this one-of-a-kind event was worth the wait—the level exceeded everyone’s expectations, even that of the distinguished members of the jury. The many stages of this music marathon attracted a great deal of interest. The number of views and observations about the participants, the Competition itself, and, of course, the jury decisions—by experts and regular classical music lovers—surpassed the time needed to read or watch them all. The comments were passionate and often contradictory:

The tempo of those waltzes was way too slow! His Funeral March was painful to listen to; I almost fell asleep! I absolutely disagree—this was a profound and mature interpretation. What happened to the brilliante style? Where is Chopin’s cantilena? It’s preposterous that he did not advance to the final round! Pianists should not be on the jury. How come she did not get any award? The Competition should, first of all, identify superb pianists. No, it should select the best interpreters of Chopin’s music. Just look at who the winners and their teachers are.

These dilemmas have been part of the Chopin Competition since its very beginnings, which is evident in Tomasz Magierski’s film “Pianists: Defining Chopin” from 2005. It shows four American pianists, winners of top prizes at the National Fryderyk Chopin Piano Competition in Miami, and their participation in the 15th International Fryderyk Chopin Piano Competition in Warsaw, Poland. We get a chance to watch them perform at subsequent stages of the Competition, practice in the Music Academy in Warsaw, and choose the instrument for their auditions. Moreover, we witness their stress and disappointments associated with the race to the next stage. Rachel Kudo, Sean Kennard, Esther Park, and Mei-Ting Sun also reveal their personal stories—how they fell in love with classical music and the piano playing, how their professional choices affected their lives and often the lives of their families; they talk about their understanding of Chopin’s music and the expectations about the Competition and their future career. Even though each of them has a unique personality, it is apparent that the pianists who participated in this year’s Competition often had similar experiences and beliefs.

The universality of the world of piano playing is also apparent in the comments by several renowned American pianists, piano teachers, and music experts (including the teachers of the four pianists), which are incorporated into the story. They share their insightful observations about the uniqueness and charm of Chopin’s music, the technical challenges of playing his compositions, their emotional impact, and the difficulty of reaching a balance between virtuosity and musicality. Are pianists just tools for the composer’s intentions, or should they express their personality through the music? Does an ideal interpretation exist? Why do pianists even want to participate in a competition? What qualities does a pianist have to demonstrate to win a competition? Do music competitions make sense at all? What is the merit of the Chopin Competition for the audience? The opinions conveyed by these specialists are not final by any means. Nor do we have to agree with them. However, their expertise, sensitivity, and deep understanding of the subject are incredibly inspiring. In my case, I was enthused to go back to the Competition’s YouTube channel to listen to some of the wonderful participants. One of the most energizing was Aimi Kobayashi’s fantastic rendition of Chopin’s 24 Preludes, op. 28. She played this cycle without losing the intensity for a single moment as if they were one continuous piece of music. At the same time, she was telling a fascinating story with an impressive rich palette of sound, dynamics, and emotions. I am also refreshing my vinyl collection to listen to the masters—Rubinstein and, most of all, Kristian Zimerman, whose rendition of Mazurkas, op. 24 during the Chopin Competition in 1975 was a turning point for me—the music I thought I knew became pure magic. While listening to those classics, I will turn off the comments, thinking: Are they important or just interesting?

One scene in the film was quite amusing—an overcontrolling mother gives her son a shoulder massage and wipes his mouth with a handkerchief before he enters the stage. It was funny but reminded me that the Chopin Competition participants are still young. Some are teenagers, and their careers are only starting, even though they may have won top prizes at other events. After watching the movie, one cannot help searching the internet to see what happened to those four pianists, whose world came to a halt in 2005. Some of them may have even felt this was the end of the world.