Schumann Fantasy in C Major, op17

Ever since I first heard the Clifford Curzon recording many years ago, this piece has held a special place in my heart.  I was also privileged to hear Curzon teach the piece in a a master class in France in 1972.  I find it to be one of the most enigmatic pieces in the repertoire.  It lives in the guise of a traditional three-movement large-form piece for piano solo, but it is anything but traditional. Some aspects are truly bizarre, almost supernatural. The irrationality, yes insanity of it all is apparent, as is the searing talent at its core, as well as the incredible innovation in its composition. Stunningly, even disturbingly inventive, it contains some of the most beautiful pianistic inventions of all time, and also some of the most unusual juxtapositions and transitions.  It’s a piece that can’t be easily categorized, but it’s an important part of the canon of the Romantic solo piano repertoire.

All of the formal flaws of the piece can be excused in the light of its remarkable inventiveness, spontaneity, and most of all its sincerity.  If there’s a ‘New Sincerity’ in modern rock music, this is the ‘Old Sincerity’, the original.  I can’t imagine anything more heartfelt, more sincere, and ultimately more sad and at the same time uplifting.

The technical difficulties are daunting, but I think I've got my arms around them now.  I've worked on it for several months, and have played it from memory a few times for friends.  It is, after all, a virtuoso piece, and there is the circus element here.  “Will he fall? Is there a net?” No, there is no net, and the tension from the technical difficulties in the second movement is palpable.  I think it’s almost acceptable to fail, to have it all come off the rails.  That too is sincere, and sincerity is the most important element here.

I cannot imagine what it was like to be Robert Schumann.  Today he would surely be diagnosed as schizophrenic or manic depressive, medicated, and his great creativity suppressed.  Nonetheless his life was a chaotic and unpredictable combination of the greatest euphoria and the deepest depression.  That chasm is the essence of his music, and his great sincerity is the only way to bridge the chasm.  He doesn't fully understand, and neither do we.  But the great depth of sincerity makes us accept that conundrum nonetheless.  In essence, this was his experience.

I do find it thrilling to walk a few steps in those shoes. But I’m so grateful they’re not mine; I can discard them at will.  He could not. 

I cannot imagine.