The Story of the Polonaise
by Edward Baxter Perry
[Editors note: Mr. Perry herewith
gives the second of his interesting and valuable series of talks upon the great
dance forms. His "Story of the Valse" appeared in The Etude for last
April, and in a forthcoming issue our readers will have the pleasure of perusing
his "The Story of the March". Mr. Perry gives more than a description
of the dance; he gives the spirit and historical conditions which led to its
creation, and follows this with a description of some of the great compositions
in this form. The Polonaise (Italian, "Polocca") is a dance in three
quarter note time, and the tempo, which is similar to that of the march, may be
between andante and allegro. The main characteristics of the rhythm are in
eighth note falling upon the first beat of the measure and followed by either
two sixteenths are a triplet and three sixteenths on the second half of the
first beat. The remainder of the measure is made up of either two quarter notes,
four eighths or eight sixteenths. this form is slightly varied by different
composers. The last measure of each movement of the polonaise usually consists
of four sixteenths coming on the first beat of the measure, followed by a
quarter note falling on the second beat, then by an eighth note on the third
beat. This characteristic of ending with a short note on the third beat is very
marked.]
This distinctively Polish musical
form which has been so closely identified with Poland's history through all her
manifold vicissitudes, during more than three centuries, originated in 1573 in
Cracow, then the Polish capital, on the occasion of the coronation of the young
French prince, Henri d'Anjou, as king of Poland.
The great nobles, always,
unfortunately, at feud among themselves, which was ultimately the cause of
Poland's downfall, were wholly unable to agree upon one of their own number to
fill the throne left vacant by the death of the last of the Jagiellos, and
finally united in electing the young prince to the office, which was intended to
be little more than that of a figurehead to the ship of state.
The coronation ceremony, which took
place in October of that year, was one of the most magnificent affairs ever
witnessed, for Poland was then at the height of her power, wealth and splendor,
and barbarically oriental in her love of lavish display and extravagant personal
adornment.
It was no uncommon thing for a
knight to wear the entire value of his estates and possessions in jewels at a
court function.
One of the important features of
this grand festival was a presentation ceremony to introduce the members of the
court and aristocracy to the new king - a reception of regal proportions.
All the great lords and ladies of
the realm, arrayed in their most sumptuous apparel, with all the available
jewels in evidence, assembled in one of the lower halls in the royal castle,
formed in a glittering procession, marched stately pomp up the grand staircase,
through various halts, galleries and ante chambers, finally up the length of the
vast magnificent throne hall to the dais, where the king awaited them, there to
be presented to his majesty by the grand master of ceremonies. This march was
accompanied by suitable music written for the occasion by a local composer;
music intended not only to mark the rhythm of the march, but to add to the pomp
and pride and beauty of the occasion, and to embody the peculiar racial
characteristics and national traits of the Poles, thus in a way supplementing
the introductory feature.
It was a musical presentation of the
Polish people to their new monarch. Then and there was born the polonaise,
which, from that germ, crude and primitive though it may have been, has
gradually developed into a definite, complete and quite elaborate musical form,
recognized and used the world over, the common property of all composers.
But the true, polonaise, no matter
when, where are by whom it may be written, manifests distinct traces of its
original heredity, natal environment and early associations; always "harks
back", so to speak, to those olden days of Polish pomp and splendor; is
always Slavonic in its general tone and aristocratic in its manner and mood.
Its distinguishing rhythm is a
measure of six eighths, though sometimes written in three four time, of which
the second eighth is divided into two sixteenths. It is always a promenade
march, not a dance. In later times it was used as the opening number at state
balls at court and at the palaces of the nobles not only in Poland, but, to some
extent, in other lands, but has always retained its original characteristics
even to the present day, though it is now used rather as a musical art form than
as a familiar feature of the modern ball. Precisely as in the case of the waltz,
however, as time went on the music of the polonaise was broadened and elaborated
so as to include in its scope the expression not only of the original mood and
scene, but additional ideas, feelings and fancies, even incidents connected with
or arising out of it.
For example, one may recall the days
of Poland's glory with very widely different emotions; with pride and exultation
over her past; with heart breaking sorrow at her present degradation; with
tearful sympathy for her wrongs and sufferings; with bitter indignation against
her oppressors. Any of these moods, as well as many others, may be legitimately
expressed in the polonaise.
Chopin, in whose hands the polonaise
reached its highest development and perfection, has given us a great variety of
moods and suggestions, all based on the original polonaise idea and embodied in
that form. They are all ideal polonaises, but no two of them are alike in
emotional content.
The Military Polonaise, Op. 40, No.
1
In his military polonaise, Opus 40,
No. 1, which is perhaps the best known, he tells us of the martial spirit and
prowess, the courage and chivalry of the Polish knights in their magnificent,
gem studded armor sweeping the field of battle on their matchless steeds, with
the clash of steel, the blast of trumpets, bearing the Polish standard to
victory.
Polonaise in C Minor, Op. 40, No. 2
The polonaise in C minor, Op. 40,
No. 2, is a broad noble, but profoundly gloomy work of the darkly majestic type.
The theme, in octaves, voices the
stern, well nigh despairing indignation of a strong, dauntless race crushed to
earth by the overwhelming weight of numbers, but sullenly biding its time, and
gathering the remnant of its strength for one last desperate struggle, heroic,
though hopeless, to avenge its many bitter wrongs; with pride and courage still
unbroken, but with a full realization of its impotence.
It is the same spirit that led the
Polish students in the streets of Warsaw to throw themselves unarmed upon the
Russian bayonets by the hundreds, preferring a futile death to a life of shame
among a vanquished people.
The lighter, more capricious trio,
with its occasional brief touches of plaintive tenderness suggest a fleeting
thought, half pathetic, half satirical, of the day that "might have
been".
Polonaise in C Sharp Minor
No polonaise is a greater favorite,
especially among those who incline towards the lyric style in music, than that
in C sharp minor, on account of its great variety and markedly poetic mood. It
opens with a bold, heroic introduction, expressing the martial, defiant spirit
of the Polish cavaliers, then changes abruptly to a tender lyric strain
suggesting the grace and charm and delicate beauty of the "eternal
feminine", never and nowhere more potent than in the chivalric days of
Poland's power and splendor.
Then follows a brief but strong and
masterly climax of a somberly dramatic mood, beginning with a whispered hint of
gloom and mystery and impending danger, then rising suddenly through a series of
sequences to a crash of minor and diminished harmonics, thrillingly significant
of the sudden shock of conflict. then a radical transition to an exquisitely
sweet and tender strain, breathing of love and romance, like a sudden gleam of
sunlight through the storm clouds.
The trio is an intensely impassioned
duet between the knight and his lady, full of Slavonic fervor, yet vibrant with
an almost desperate sorrow, the reflex of the omnipresent dangers and strife
through which the path of true love must lead, too often, to bitter partings and
into the shadow of sudden death.
The composition is less of a
polonaise in the strict sense than a picture of Polish life which the polonaise
calls before the mind.
Polonaise, Op. 26, No. 2
A notable original and weirdly
fascinating work by Chopin in polonaise form is the one in E flat minor. It
opens with a curious fantastic movement, darkly tragic in mood; indeed, voicing
a shuddering despair too black and terrible to be attractive to the majority of
young players, which is probably the reason why the work, though extremely
interesting and of only moderate difficulty, is very little used.
One of Chopin's compatriots states
that this first strain is intended to imitate the doleful clank of the chains
upon the vanquished Polish patriots in their long march to Siberia.
It is followed by a long reiterated
and insistent movement in choral form and unequivocally religious vein, a
suggestion of the pathetic attempt of heart crushed by defeat, smarting with
injustice and humiliation, tortured by keenest personal grief, striving to find
comfort and consolation in the promises of faith.
Andante Spianato and Polonaise, Op.
22
One of the very best and also one of
the most difficult and brilliant of the Chopin polonaises is the one in E flat
usually designated by the above title.
The andante spianato is simply a
quiet introduction prefixed to the polonaise proper, spianato being an Italian
word not often used in musical terminology, which means tranquil, and qualifies
andante. It has no reference to spinning, as has been inferred by some on
account of the name and the character of the accompaniment.
This movement is a tender lyric in
Chopin's sweetest, most exquisite vein, ornamented by a series of delicate
embellishments.
It appears to be a sort of waking
dream indulged in by the young composer at the moment of the creation of this
great polonaise when his thought and fancy were engrossed with the life history
and characteristics of his beloved country. A dream of those happier days long
past, touched by a transient gleam of hope that they might return. The whole
work belongs to his early, more optimistic period before he was twenty, before
his long exile had begun, before Constantia had broken his heart and shattered
his ideas, before his home had been sacked and burned by the Russians, the
period of youth and hope and aspiration when life still glowed with the rosy
tints of dawn. Then a sudden blast of trumpets and crash of cymbals recall us to
the gorgeous court pageant of 1573 heretofore described, announcing that royalty
has taken its seat in the great hall, the ceremony has begun and the splendid
procession may start on its imposing march. Then comes the polonaise, brilliant,
stirring, triumphant, replete with a wealth of constantly varying melody rich in
harmonic coloring, well nigh over laden with embellishment, like the costumes of
the lords and ladies who defile in a glittering line before the eyes of our
fancy; superb knights in jewel studded armor, beautiful ladies in silk and
velvet of every hue flashing with gems.
From moment to moment the music
changes in character to suggest the shifting kaleidoscopic impressions produced
by this moving pageant, now bold and proud and martial, now tender and graceful,
again playful, coquettish or impassioned while the procession winds on op the
grand staircase and across the magnificent throne hall.
Now and then a sharp dissonant clash
of steel on steel indicates the salute of the knights to their new monarch with
the war like din of sword on shield.
Polonaise in E Major by Franz Liszt
Among the well nigh innumerable
polonaises of every degree of merit and difficulty, written by different
composers of various lands and periods, this in E major, but Liszt, is probably
the best, aside from those by Chopin, and it is certainly the most widely known.
It is a standard concert number the world over. A work of the first magnitude in
breadth, musical significance and technical difficulty, and it is the only one
within the writer's acquaintance in which identically the same theme is made to
serve both as first subject and as trio melody. This is a unique conceit, and
carried out with Liszt's own clever ingenuity.
The idea is to suggest the
distinctive traits and characteristic attributes of the Polish race manifested
under the modifying influence and conditions of sex. In other words, the racial
temperament in its masculine and feminine embodiment. The characteristic theme
symbolizes the national spirit, remaining essentially and fundamentally the same
in both cases, while the widely varying treatment and setting clearly
differentiate between the sexes in which it finds embodiment.
In the first subject this theme
appears in bold, forceful chords, instinct with a resolute, martial spirit, with
the pride, heroic courage and fierce joy in conflict, typical of the dashing
steel clad cavalier.
In the trio it re-appears note for
note, but in a higher register, treated in light, delicate, playful mood, with a
highly elaborate and ornate setting, sparkling with dainty embellishments to
represent the feminine incarnation of Polish racial type, the charming,
capriciously brilliant, witchingly winsome Polish lady.
Even the musically untrained ear may
easily learn to follow this dominant theme through all its modifications and
transmigrations, and enjoy its varied poetic suggestions, as well as its tonal
fascination; while to the student of the art it is a most interesting example of
musical symbolism.
The second subject, in heavy, rugged
chords and octaves, is Lisztish, so to speak, rather than Polish - the Hungarian
point of view - vigorous, but a little pompous and supercilious.
It may be supposed to represent the
rough, wild, primitive conditions of those early days on the eastern frontier of
civilization when the strong arm was the only law and logic, and the good sword
the only arbitration.
Polonaise by E. A. MacDowell
There has been one, and only one,
polonaise written on this side of the Atlantic which fully deserves to rank with
the masterpieces in this form by the Old World composers, namely, that by
MacDowell.
Though not of extreme difficulty, in
fact within the possible playing repertoire of most fairly advanced amateurs, it
is a broad, effective concert number worthy of a place on any artists program,
and far less used than it should be.
Its opening theme is markedly
original, yet thoroughly characteristic of the polonaise, conceived in its
gloomily retrospective mood. Its sombre majesty and forceful intensity bring
irresistibly to the mind the dark, tragic history, the desperate heroism, the
gallant but futile struggle, and the ultimate hapless doom of a proud and noble
race.
It is a stern, indignant protest
against tyranny, injustice and cruelty as strongly and feelingly expressed as if
MacDowell had himself been a native son of Poland, with an undertone of fatalism
eminently in keeping with the Slavonic temperament. In fact is always recalls to
me those wonderful lines of Swinburne:
"More dark than a dead
world's tomb,
More deep than the great sea's womb,
Fate."
The trio, as is customary in the
polonaise, introduces a suggestion of a lighter, more playful vein. It is
bright, vivacious, almost humorous, indicating a brief abandonment to an almost
reckless gayety on the very verge of the disaster which is recognized as
inevitable, yet is ignored, even scouted for the moment with that incredible
courage and half frivolous, half cynical humor, characteristic alike of the
French and Polish nobility even on the way to the guillotine, or that far more
terrible living death, Siberian exile.
This trio closely imitates, in mood
and style, the music of the Hungarian Gypsies; indeed, one might easily fancy it
to be of Hungarian origin.
This peculiar touch is a rather
unusual and daring innovation in the polonaise, but is entirely legitimate and
appropriate, as will be understood when it is remembered that those musical
nomads from across the Hungarian border were often engaged at the castles of the
Polish grandees to furnish the music for their balls and festivals, and were, of
course, often called upon, as we may assume to be the case in this instance, to
accompany the brilliant, stately march of the polonaise. The long, wild,
sweeping cadenza, which leads back to the first theme, is unmistakably symbolic
of the rush and roar of the bitter winter wind from the northern steppes, raging
about the castle walls, moaning dismally among the towers and battlements - the
ominous voice of Nature allegorically significant, perhaps, of the rushing wings
of death and destruction so imminently impending.
The Etude Magazine
November 1909