The Four Ballades

According to Robert Schumann, to whom the Ballade No.2 in F major is dedicated, both it and its predecessor in G minor were “inspired by poems of Mickiewicz.” That, he clearly states, is what Chopin told him when the Polish composer played it (or part of it) in his presence in Leipzig in 1836. So, in the absence of any evidence to the contrary, we can safely accept that the keyboard ballade has its origins in a form of narrative poetry. The internal evidence of the four Ballades, which combine a narrative element with sonata form and make a special feature of the storyteller, surely confirms as much.

No.1 in G minor Op.23 (c1835)

The First Ballade begins with a short harp-like prelude which establishes the bardic personality destined to reappear in the other Ballades. The narrator introduces the first thematic character, the melancholy but excitable first subject, in G minor. The second subject is happier and more relaxed in E flat major. Goaded by the first theme, however, the second is compelled to change its mood during the course of the development, achieving full-scale eloquence in A major and, at the end of a scherzando episode based on the narrator’s theme, urgently asserting itself in E flat again. The first subject is recapitulated in the tonic but without the second subject: all conventional expectations are swept away in a presto con fuoco coda.

No.2 in F major Op.38 (1839)

When Schumann heard Chopin play the Second Ballade in 1836 he declared it “the best of all his works.” Chopin, who agreed with him, performed it frequently but never, apparently, in its entirety. He is said to have played only the first part, in an extended version. Obviously, this is the most attractive part, and it is particularly inspired in the way its gentle pastoral theme grows so naturally out of the repeated harp notes in the first few bars. The parts Chopin did not play are the two stormy presto con fuoco episodes, the second of which definitively drowns that idyll.

No.3 in A flat major Op.47 (1841)

In the the Third Ballade, which is so much more subtle in construction than the its predecessors, it is impossible to say for certain whether the first section is introduction or exposition. The opening bars return, are converted into a low echo of the narrator’s theme from the First Ballade and pause on a chord of A flat major. A delightful new theme enters, preceded by an outline of its lilting rhythm in the right hand. This could be a second subject or it could easily be the first main theme. Whatever it is, it dominates the piece from this point on in an apparently spontaneous series of variations, passing dramatically through C sharp minor into a climax of keyboard brilliance and acoustic magnitude.

Ballade No.4 in F minor Op.52 (1842-3)

The F minor Ballade is even more liberated in form than the A flat major and is on a larger scale. The main theme, introduced after the short prelude with the characteristic repeated notes, sounds like a fragile stray from one of the nocturnes. Although it at first gives no hint of the epic trials it is about to withstand, it proves to be an adaptable melody, capable of carrying a weight of passionate expression, before it is relieved by the entry of a happier, less complicated theme in B flat major. The burden of the main climax is borne by this more robust second subject, now in D flat major. But the brilliant coda, beginning after the quiet chords which bring the music temporarily to rest on C major, is yet another transformation of the mercurial main theme.

No.1 in G minor Op.23 (c1835)

No.2 in F major Op.38 (1839)

No.3 in A flat major Op.47 (1841)

No.4 in F minor Op.52 (1842-3)

According to Robert Schumann, to whom the Ballade No.2 in F major is dedicated, both it and its predecessor in G minor were “inspired by poems of Mickiewicz.” That, he clearly states, is what Chopin told him when the Polish composer played it (or part of it) in his presence in Leipzig. So, in the absence of any evidence to the contrary, we can safely accept that the keyboard ballade has its origins in a form of narrative poetry. The internal evidence of the four Ballades, which combine a narrative element with sonata form and make a special feature of the storyteller, surely confirms as much.

The First Ballade begins with a short harp-like prelude which establishes the bardic personality destined to reappear in the other Ballades. The narrator introduces the first thematic character, the melancholy but excitable first subject, in G minor. The second subject is happier and more relaxed in E flat major. Goaded by the first theme, however, the second is compelled to change its mood during the course of the development, achieving full-scale eloquence in A major and, at the end of a scherzando episode based on the narrator’s theme, urgently asserting itself in E flat again. The first subject is recapitulated in the tonic but without the second subject: all conventional expectations are swept away in a presto con fuoco coda.

When Schumann heard Chopin play the Second Ballade he declared it “the best of all his works.” Chopin, who agreed with him, performed it frequently but never, apparently, in its entirety. He is said to have played only the first part, in an extended version. Obviously, this is the most attractive part, and it is particularly inspired in the way its gentle pastoral theme grows so naturally out of the repeated harp notes in the first few bars. The parts Chopin did not play are the two stormy presto con fuoco episodes, the second of which definitively drowns that idyll.

In the the Third Ballade, which is so much more subtle in construction than the its predecessors, it is impossible to say for certain whether the first section is introduction or exposition. The opening bars return, are converted into a low echo of the narrator’s theme from the First Ballade and pause on a chord of A flat major. A delightful new theme enters, preceded by an outline of its lilting rhythm in the right hand. This could be a second subject or it could easily be the first main theme. Whatever it is, it dominates the piece from this point on in an apparently spontaneous series of variations, passing dramatically through C sharp minor into a climax of keyboard brilliance and acoustic magnitude

The F minor Ballade is even more liberated in form than the A flat major and is on a larger scale. The main theme, introduced after the short prelude with the characteristic repeated notes, sounds like a fragile stray from one of the nocturnes. Although it at first gives no hint of the epic trials it is about to withstand, it proves to be an adaptable melody, capable of carrying a weight of passionate expression, before it is relieved by the entry of a happier, less complicated theme in B flat major. The burden of the main climax is borne by this more robust second subject, now in D flat major. But the brilliant coda, beginning after the quiet chords which bring the music temporarily to rest on C major, is yet another transformation of the mercurial main theme.

According to Robert Schumann, to whom the Ballade No.2 in F major is dedicated, both it and its predecessor in G minor were “inspired by poems of Mickiewicz.” That, he clearly states, is what Chopin told him when he played it (or part of it) in Schumann’s presence in Leipzig in 1836. So, in the absence of any evidence to the contrary, we can safely accept that the keyboard ballade has its origins - Chopin’s were the first of their kind - in a form of narrative poetry. And it is not at all unlikely that a Polish nationalist poet exiled in Paris, where he and Chopin were certainly known to each other, would have influenced the composer in one way or another. The problem is whether Chopin merely borrowed a title and the general idea of a poetic narrative from Adam Mickiewicz’s Ballady i romanse or whether, in spite of his avowed disapproval of programme music, he based the ballades on specific Mickiewicz poems.

The First Ballade is traditionally linked with Mickiewicz’s poetic novel Konrad Wallenrod, which was first published in 1828. Chronologically, in that Chopin sketched the work in Vienna in 1831 [but see js2 93] and completed it in Paris in 1835, some such association is clearly not impossible. Historically, although the tradition allegedly derives from Schumann, there is not a shred of evidence to support it. Aesthetically, it is scarcely possible to reconcile Mickiewicz’s bloodthirsty epic with Chopin’s romantic lyricism, dramatically articulated though it is. The Ballade in G minor is, it is true, a narrative poem - the narrator is almost as prominent as the principal characters - but, like its three successors, it is a story of vividly characterised thematic protagonists involved in harmonic adventures against a distant sonata-form background.

The one literary association to which any kind of credence can be attached is that of No.2 in F with Mickiewicz’s Switez: a mysterious woman rises slowly from the lake to tell the story of the struggle of the Lithuanians against the tsars and to describe how the inhabitants of Switez were engulfed by the waters and transformed into aquatic flowers. It is a very unlikely scenario but it is more credible at least than the Ondine story associated with the Third Ballade. As for the Fourth, it is uniquely fortunate in having had no literary likeness attributed to it.

Ballade No.1 in G minor, Op.23

The First Ballade begins with a short harp-like prelude which establishes the bardic personality destined to reappear in the other Ballades. The narrator introduces the first thematic character, the melancholy but excitable first subject, in G minor. The second subject is happier and more relaxed in E flat major. Goaded by the first theme, however, the second is compelled to change its mood during the course of the development, achieving full-scale eloquence in A major and, at the end of a scherzando episode based on the narrator’s theme, urgently asserting itself in E flat again. The first subject is recapitulated in the tonic but without the second subject: all conventional expectations are swept away in a presto con fuoco coda. The narrator adds a dramatically expressive epilogue, where funereal allusions in G minor to a characteristic rhythmic feature of the second subject confirm the unhappy ending .

Ballade No.2 in F major, Op.38

When Schumann heard Chopin play the First Ballade in 1836 he declared it “the best of all his works.” Chopin agreed with him. In 1839, when he had finished the second Ballade in F major, he dedicated the new work to Robert Schumann (crossing out the description, “my friend,” incidentally, and spelling the dedicatee’s name wrong in his instructions to his publisher). This work quickly became a favourite too. Chopin performed it frequently but never, apparently, in its entirety. He is said to have played only the first part, in an extended version. Obviously, this is the most attractive part, and it is particularly inspired in the way its gentle pastoral theme grows so naturally out of the repeated harp notes in the first few bars. The parts Chopin did not play are the two stormy presto con fuoco episodes, with the narrator’s voice from the First Ballade rising in an impassioned cry in the left hand. The idyll is definitively drowned by the second episode, which leads not into F major again but to an agitato coda ending in a desolate A minor

Ballade No.3 in A flat major, Op.47

The third Ballade was completed two years after the second and is already more subtle in construction than the its predecessors. It is impossible to say for certain whether the first section, which is so elusive and so changeable in colour, is introduction or exposition. The opening bars return, are converted into a low echo of the narrator’s theme from the First Ballade and pause on a chord of A flat major. A delightful new theme enters, preceded by an outline of its lilting rhythm in the right hand. This could be a second subject or it could easily be the first main theme. Whatever it is, it is closely related to the earlier material. It dominates the piece from this point on in an apparently spontaneous series of variations, passing dramatically through C sharp minor and into a climax of keyboard brilliance and acoustic magnitude.

Ballade No.4 in F minor, Op.52

The ballade conventions - the 6/8 metre, the narrative style, the bardic prelude - are retained in the fourth and last in the set, written in 1842. The F minor Ballade is, however, even more liberated in form than the A flat major and is on a larger scale. One of Chopin’s greatest works, it is a structural masterpiece and, like all the best examples of story-telling, never predictable. The main theme, introduced after the short prelude with the characteristic repeated notes, sounds like a fragile stray from one of the nocturnes. Although it at first gives no hint of the epic trials it is about to withstand, it proves to be an adaptable melody, capable of carrying a weight of passionate expression, before it is relieved by the entry of a happier, less complicated theme in B flat major. The burden of the main climax is borne by this more robust second subject, now in D flat major. But the brilliant coda, beginning after the slow and quiet chords which bring the music temporarily to rest on C major, is yet another transformation of the mercurial main theme.

Gerald Larner©