Chopin intime

In the winter of 1838, Chopin travelled to the island of Majorca with his lover, the novelist George Sand—and a compact new piano. He composed at least eight of his two dozen Preludes Op. 28, exquisite miniatures that span an extraordinary range of moods, textures and musical ideas, on this so-called pianino, or “little piano”. Justin Taylor has recorded the composer’s Majorcan Preludes on a near-identical pianino, made by the Paris firm of Pleyel in 1839, placing them alongside other works by Chopin suited to the upright instrument’s intimate tonal warmth. “It’s such a different piano to what we’re used to hearing,” Taylor tells Apple Music Classical. “Often the modern piano sounds a bit dry, with a lack of singing line. But this type of piano. I totally fell in love with it.” Pleyel’s pianino, he adds, produces a complex blend of colours and shades. The instrument, which spans six-and-a-half octaves, was built around a wooden rather than an iron frame, unlike the company’s contemporary grand pianos. The 1839 pianino’s light touch, smooth action and rich resonance support the instrument’s singing voice. You can hear this in evidence right at the start of the album, in the Nocturne in C-sharp Minor, or in Taylor’s own shimmering arrangement of “Casta diva”, based in part on Chopin’s version of Bellini’s famous opera aria. The instrument’s signature sound is further conditioned by the fact that it has two strings to each note. “Pleyel later added a third string their pianinos, which made them sound a bit more modern and metallic,” observes Taylor. “And so this specific type of instrument, with only two strings per note, made only between 1835 and 1842, is very hard to find today.” The pianino, he continues, offers a way of connecting with the sound that Chopin heard in the moment of composing his Preludes. “Of course, we have his music, we have his letters. But to get close to the sound he was hearing in this way is fascinating.” While Justin Taylor is most closely associated with the harpsichord, he’s a fine pianist and a true connoisseur of antique instruments. The French musician discovered the Pleyel pianino during one of his periodic visits to the workshop of Olivier Fadini, a specialist restorer of historic keyboards based near Paris. “Olivier, who’s fascinated by Chopin’s pianos, asked me if I knew about the pianino. ‘No, I know nothing about it,’ I replied. So he let me play one of his Pleyel pianinos. But I was playing other repertoires at the time, mostly on harpsichord, so I didn’t think about performing Chopin on it. I later discovered that Chopin had composed around a third of his Preludes on this specific piano. And I remembered its sound and told myself that I should go back and play Chopin on this pianino. I returned and found that it was the perfect match for his Preludes.” Pleyel’s pianino delivers a soft attack to each note, thanks not least to its rabbit-fur felt hammers. The instrument’s crystalline upper register can sound harp-like, as it does here in the Prelude in F Major, but more often speaks with what Justin Taylor calls a “velvety and veiled” voice. There’s a surprising weight to the bass sound and a complementary clarity in the middle register, which Taylor exploits to dramatic effect in the central section of the Prelude in D-flat Major (the “Raindrop”). “In a way, you have to play it a bit like a harpsichord,” he says. “The touch is so subtle and you need very little weight in the touch. It’s not at all like putting all your weight in a modern piano. It’s difficult because you can play wrong notes very easily, as the keys are a bit smaller than on the modern piano, a bit like on harpsichord. And the octave is narrower than in today’s pianos. I’m used to this on harpsichord. But at home, I have a modern upright piano, so it always takes me a few days to practise on the pianino to get used to its keyboard and touch. It’s not just about the player imposing the way he wants to play on the instrument; you have to adapt to the instrument.”