timeless
Ignaz Friedman (1882-1948), piano, 1936: Frederic Chopin (1810-1849), Nocturne No. 16 (E-flat major, Op. 55, No. 2)
never enough
Frederic Chopin (1810-1849), Prelude No. 15 (“Raindrop”); Daniil Trifonov (1991-), piano
never enough
Frederic Chopin (1810-1849), Preludes, Op. 28 (1835-1839); Alfred Cortot (1877-1962, piano), 1933
He is the one pianist who equally satisfies my mind, my senses, and my emotions…three-dimensional playing.
A good performance is complex. Cortot’s recording of Chopin’s 24 preludes (1933), I listened to that recording very early on, not each week but a few times a year. And even today it has lost none of its overwhelming freshness and surprising variety. It’s a mixture of spontaneity and exact calculation, actually a calculated spontaneity which nonetheless seems utterly spontaneous. Perhaps only Cortot, in his best performances, could achieve that. You have 24 pieces, sounding like 24 different characters. Character for me is always a very important factor. It’s not just a question of keys and tempi, but of 24 different individuals expressed in miniature form. Which is precisely what Cortot achieves in this recording. He has the control to give each piece its character at once; you have, as it were, the impression that each first note is already a signal for what is to follow.
—Alfred Brendel (1931-), pianist, writer
alone
No matter how often I hear these tiny pieces, no matter how many pianists I hear play them, they remain perpetually fresh.
Frederic Chopin (1810-1849), Preludes, Op. 28 (1835-1839); Seong-Jin Cho (1994-, piano), live, 2017
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lagniappe
art beat: more
William Klein (1926–2022), Candy Store, Amsterdam Avenue, New York, 1955
spellbinding
Daniil Trifonov (1991-, piano), live, Verbier (Switzerland), 2012: Frédéric Chopin (1810–1849), Eight Études (Op. 10, No. 11; Op. 10, No. 6; Op. 25, No. 1; Op. 25, No. 5; Op. 10, No. 5; Op. 25, No. 6; Op. 25, No. 7; Op. 25, No. 11)
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lagniappe
reading table
Look, look greedily,
when dusk approaches,
look insatiably,
look without fear.—Adam Zagajewski (1945–2021), from “Mountains” (translated from the Polish by Clare Cavanagh)