"None of Chopin's compositions surpasses in masterliness of form
and beauty and poetry of contents his ballades. In them he
attains the acme of his power as an artist," remarks Niecks.
I am ever reminded of Andrew Lang's lines, "the thunder and surge
of the Odyssey," when listening to the G minor Ballade, op. 23.
It is the Odyssey of Chopin's soul. That 'cello-like largo with
its noiseless suspension stays us for a moment in the courtyard
of Chopin's House Beautiful. Then, told in his most dreamy tones,
the legend begins. As in some fabulous tales of the Genii this
Ballade discloses surprising and delicious things. There is the
tall lily in the fountain that nods to the sun. It drips in
cadenced monotone and its song is repeated on the lips of the
slender-hipped girl with the eyes of midnight--and so might I
weave for you a story of what I see in the Ballade and you would
be aghast or puzzled. With such a composition any programme could
be sworn to, even the silly story of the Englishman who haunted
Chopin, beseeching him to teach him this Ballade.
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