Piano Concerto No. 2 in F minor, Op. 21

Program notes

About the Work

Chopin’s Second Piano Concerto is, confusingly, the first he wrote, composed in 1829–30 when he was not yet twenty, still living in Warsaw and on the brink of leaving Poland forever. It was published after the E minor concerto and so took the later number, but this F minor work came first, and it bears all the freshness, ardour and slight formal naivety of a brilliant young composer pouring out his heart. It is also a deeply personal piece: the ravishing slow movement is reportedly inspired by Konstancja Gładkowska, a young singer at the Warsaw Conservatory with whom he was secretly, hopelessly in love. The whole concerto glows with that first-love tenderness.

Like its companion, the work is unashamedly a vehicle for the piano: the orchestra plays a supporting, accompanimental role while the soloist holds the spotlight throughout with writing of extraordinary delicacy, filigree decoration and singing lyricism. This is not the symphonic concerto of Beethoven or Brahms, where soloist and orchestra contend as equals; it is closer to bel canto opera, the piano an eloquent singer spinning out long, ornamented melodic lines over a discreet accompaniment. Some have faulted Chopin’s orchestration as plain, but that rather misses the point: the glory of the work is in the piano writing, which is some of the most poetic and idiomatic ever conceived.

It makes a beautiful centrepiece, the lyrical, intimate heart of the programme between Stravinsky’s bright neoclassicism and Borodin’s heroic Russian symphony.

What to Listen For

The first movement (Maestoso) opens with a substantial orchestral introduction before the piano enters; listen then for the way the soloist takes over completely, decorating two contrasting themes, one passionate and stormy, one tenderly lyrical, with cascades of filigree ornament, delicate runs and rubato (that flexible, expressive give-and-take of tempo Chopin made his own).

The slow movement (Larghetto) is the emotional core and one of Chopin’s most beautiful inspirations, often heard as his musical love-letter to Konstancja. Listen for its serene, song-like main melody, and especially for the extraordinary central section: a dramatic, recitative-like passage where the piano seems almost to speak, like an operatic heroine in an impassioned scene, over tremulous, whispering strings. The finale is a sparkling rondo in the spirit of a Polish folk dance: listen for its lilting mazurka-like rhythms, its playful elegance, and the brilliant, dancing piano writing, with a magical moment near the end where a horn call signals the brilliant final flourish. Throughout, follow the soloist’s touch, colour and the singing quality of the line. This is music about the piano’s power to sing.