My parents have been in town for the past few days, bringing a wonderful caravan of chocolate, pies, bourbon, pasta, and other goodies - including a CD of Chopin's Nocturnes, played by Arthur Rubinstein. My dad's been listening to them of late, and it's easy to see why: they're beguiling, reflective pieces.
In his 1900 book on Chopin, the American critic James Huneker approached the Nocturnes with considerable hesitation. “So much has been written," he wrote, "so much that is false, perverted sentimentalism and unmitigated cant about the nocturnes…" Hoping to straighten things out, Huneker wasted no time in issuing his own judgment: "There are pearls and diamonds in the jeweled collection of nocturnes, many are dolorous, few dramatic, and others are sweetly insane and songful.” But he didn't stop there. In 1900, it wasn't far-fetched to think that the average reader might actually want to play the pieces, and so Huneker offered a few thoughts on how this was to be done. Turning to his favorite Nocturne, one of two in E flat, he concluded that it demanded a certain restraint on the part of the player: too much energy could spoil the piece. Or, as he put it, "one may say that it is not for small hands, nor yet for big fists."
In his 1900 book on Chopin, the American critic James Huneker approached the Nocturnes with considerable hesitation. “So much has been written," he wrote, "so much that is false, perverted sentimentalism and unmitigated cant about the nocturnes…" Hoping to straighten things out, Huneker wasted no time in issuing his own judgment: "There are pearls and diamonds in the jeweled collection of nocturnes, many are dolorous, few dramatic, and others are sweetly insane and songful.” But he didn't stop there. In 1900, it wasn't far-fetched to think that the average reader might actually want to play the pieces, and so Huneker offered a few thoughts on how this was to be done. Turning to his favorite Nocturne, one of two in E flat, he concluded that it demanded a certain restraint on the part of the player: too much energy could spoil the piece. Or, as he put it, "one may say that it is not for small hands, nor yet for big fists."
That's nice. And, as my dad carried Cleo about the house, quietly describing what they saw as they moved ("pie," I overheard, "is a wonderful creation..."), it felt especially correct. To carry a baby, neither small hands nor big fists are ideal. But perhaps care matters most of all.
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