Composers of Romanticism

dumka_jaremy.jpg, default, ‘Dumka Jaremy’ by Stanisław Masłowski, 1879, photo: Piotr Ligier / National Muzeum in Warsaw

Pre-Romantics, Romantics, post-Romantics. We present a selection of Polish Romantic composers who are not Chopin, Moniuszko or Wieniawski – these have already been discussed extensively.

Antoni Henryk Radziwiłł (1775–1833)

Thumbnail — Fryderyk Chopin in drawing room of Antoni Henryk Radziwiłł by Henryk Siemiradzki, published in Posen: K. Kozłowski, editor; Berlin: Rud. Schuster; New York: Fischel, Adler & Schwartz [1888] / Polona.pl

‘He is the first true troubadour I have met, a talent full of strength and enthusiasm – he is characterised by something fantastic, and everything he performs has an individual quality’, wrote Wolfgang von Goethe in a letter to Karl Ludwig von Knebel about Prince Antoni Henryk Radziwiłł, a figure who could be described as a link between the Romanticism emerging in Germany and the world of Polish culture. Today, he is remembered more for his political activities: marriage to Frederica Louise Hohenzollern (niece of King Frederick the Great), contacts with pro-independence movements (not very fruitful) and governorship of the Grand Duchy of Posen. Apart from his public activities, Radziwiłł was interested in culture and art: he performed in amateur plays, played the guitar, harp and cello; he sang and composed.

He composed piano polonaises, songs and pieces for the choir. His most important work was Faust, an opera based on a text by Goethe, which he worked on for as many as 20 years – from 1810 to 1831. Zofia Chechlińska classifies Radziwiłł’s work as an early Romantic opera. In describing the opera, she mentions the relatively rich harmony, the introduction of prayer, an attempt at characterising the protagonists through music and a big role for the choirs (which was rare in Polish music at the time). In a letter to his friend Tytus Woyciechowski in 1829, Chopin described his stay at the count’s:

As for my person and my momentary amusement, I would have sat there until I was expelled […] You know how much he likes music. He showed me his ‘Faust’, and I found many things so well-conceived, even brilliant, as I would never have expected from the governor.

The piece was also to the liking of the author of the literary Faust, who – according to a not entirely verified legend – is said to have expressed the wish that Radziwiłł’s piece should always accompany the theatrical productions of his work. In the 19th century, Radziwiłł’s Faust was quite often performed on German stages (young Moniuszko listened to it in Berlin). Prussian critics accused it of not being too German.

Radziwiłł was also a patron of culture and art. He gladly hosted artists in his salons; sumptuous dinners attended by artists, thinkers and members of aristocratic families were accompanied by concerts. His activities were not limited to events intended for a narrow circle of the elite. He applied to the Prussian Minister of Foreign Affairs for scholarships for graduates of Poznań grammar schools. He supported the publication of Polish literature, including the works of Adam Mickiewicz, in the Prussian Partition. At his invitation, Angelica Catalani, Niccolò Paganini, Karol Lipiński and Maria Szymanowska gave concerts in Poznań. Among the artists who dedicated their works to him were Ludwig van Beethoven (Overture op. 115), Felix Mendelssohn (Piano Quartet op. 1), Maria Szymanowska (Serenade for Cello and Piano) and Fryderyk Chopin (Cello Polonaise op. 3 and Trio op. 8).

Karol Kurpiński (1785–1857)

One of the first composers in whose music we hear Romantic tendencies was Karol Kurpiński, the son of a Greater Poland organist who became the conductor of the National Theatre. He conducted the world premiere of Fryderyk Chopin’s Piano Concerto in F Minor, op. 21.

In his works, formal patterns borrowed from late Classicism, especially from Mozart or Haydn, intertwined with motifs that were free interpretations of Polish folklore. Kurpiński’s rich compositional output includes polonaises, mazurkas, Polish dances, songs (often with historical themes; he was the author of the famous ‘Warszawianka 1831’) and religious music. He modelled his music on the works of composers loved by Warsaw audiences (from Mozart, Salieri and Rossini to Dalayrac and Auber). He wrote:

We shall probably not sin if we look to them in our works. Let us make use of everything, but alongside these models, let us keep the continuous traits of our national singing, and a separate genre will emerge from this that will clearly characterise the spirit of our opera.

[‘Rzut oka na operę’ by Karol Kurpiński, ‘Roczniki Towarzystwa Przyjaciół Nauk’ 21 (1830)]

Romanticism resonated most strongly in his operas, particularly in his love of the uncanny and the evil concealed under the cover of irony (Pałac Lucypera [The Palace of Lucifer], Szarlatan [The Charlatan], Czaromysł książę słowiański, czyli nimfy jeziora Gopło [Czaromysł the Slavic Prince, or the Nymphs of Gopło Lake], Zamek na Czorsztynie [Czorsztyn Castle]). The librettos for his operas were written by Julian Ursyn Niemcewicz and Kazimierz Brodziński, among others. Brodziński – a poet, historian, theoretician and literary critic – was an exceptionally important figure for Polish Romanticism; in his treatise O klasyczności i romantyczności tudzież duchu poezji polskiej (On Classicism and Romanticism and the Spirit of Polish Poetry), he wrote a definition of Romanticism, an excerpt of which is worth quoting here:

Everything from the past is romantic; everything that brings to our minds the innocence, the freedom, the fervour of the golden, patriarchal, chivalrous ages, where fervour, not reckoning, is painted in deeds, where simplicity, not artifice, is painted in beauty.

Maria Szymanowska (1789–1831)

Another Polish artist adored by Goethe. He called her ‘the enchanted Almighty in the kingdom of sounds’ and dedicated his poem ‘Aussöhnung’ (Reconciliation) to her. In it, he wrote:

Then music to the fore like angels swarming,

A million tones in galaxy. We surrender

All of our inner fort to forces storming

– Irresistibly overrun with splendour.

The eye goes damp: in longings past tomorrow

We guess at the infinite worth of song and sorrow.

[trans. AP]

The Polish pianist’s playing was admired by aristocrats and kings – she performed before the rulers of Europe during the Congress of Vienna. She was particularly valued by the tsar’s entourage; Alexander I bestowed upon her the title of the First Pianist of Their Highnesses the Tsarinas.

She was born into an assimilated Frankist family. Although she never took composition lessons, Maria Szymanowska composed numerous vocal and piano pieces. Her oeuvre includes around 100 works. Compositions for piano include mazurkas, polonaises, waltzes, nocturnes and etudes. One of the popularisers of Szymanowska’s work was Elżbieta Zapolska Chapelle (1954–2020), singer and philologist, author of the premiere recording of Ballads and Romances (2011, Acte Préalable) and the album Romance à Joséphine: Women’s Songs in Maria Szymanowska’s Time (2019).

She gained fame as an outstanding performer – she was one of the first professional pianists in Europe. Before learning the basics of music, she would freely improvise on the clavichord and spinet.

Filipina Brzezińska (1800–1886)

Like most Polish female composers, she is a figure that is almost completely forgotten and is not yet thoroughly studied by researchers. She came from a famous Frankist family; her parents were Agata Wołowska and Franciszek Szymanowski. Józef Szymanowski, Filipina Brzezińska’s brother, was Maria Szymanowska’s husband and the father of Celina Mickiewicz (Adam Mickiewicz’s wife). Also worth mentioning is her distant relative, Laura Guérin née Brzezińska – headmistress of one of the most prestigious private schools for girls in 19th-century Warsaw.

Cecylia Walewska, in her pamphlet Ruch kobiecy w Polsce cz. 2 (The Women’s Movement in Poland, Part 2, Warsaw, 1909), notes that art was available only to women from the upper and middle classes in the 19th century. However, adds Walewska, in a tone that one would not expect in a suffragette’s publication,

unaccustomed to serious study, they regarded it more as a momentary pastime than as a lever of culture and a source of elevated spirits […] Young ladies would play with a paintbrush as they did – in their childhood – with a doll or a pretty white kitty.

She goes on to claim that true artistry among women composers ‘is an exception’ but that it would be ‘premature and risky’ to assert the alleged inferiority of women as far as music is concerned (her opinion was shared by Mieczysław Karłowicz in the text Kobieta w muzyce [The Woman in Music] cited by Walewska). She then lists several female composers whose names tell us very little these days:

Cecylja Beydalówna; Franciszka Kochanowska; Konstancja Narbutówna; Salomea Paris; Countess Laura Potocka;, Duchess Marja Wirtemberska; Countess Zofia Zamojska; Countess Klementyna Grabowska; Marja Szymanowska, outstanding pianist, mother of Mickiewicz’s wife; Countess Stefanja Komorowska; Wiktoryna Kowalewska; and Natalja Lipińska, daughter of the famous violinist. The most outstanding of these was Filipina Brzezińska, the author of numerous songs, of which ‘Nie opuszczaj nas’ (Do Not Abandon Us), a chant to the Virgin Mary, has entered the blood of our people.

Brzezińska took piano lessons in St Petersburg with Carl Mayer. She was a valued pianist and the author of numerous piano pieces in ‘stile brillante’ – fantasies, nocturnes, waltzes – many of which were published in print in the publishing houses of Warsaw booksellers. ‘Do Not Abandon Us’ was the informal national anthem at the time of the January Uprising. The author of the gloomy text accompanying the song was Karol Antoniewicz, a Jesuit priest active in Galicia at the time of the 1846 Peasant Uprising. Another well-known work by Karol Antoniewicz is the song ‘Chwalcie łąki umajone’ (Praise Meadows Adorned with Flowers).

Tomasz Padura (Tymko Padura) (1801–1871)

He was a Polish-Ukrainian poet born in the village of Illintsi near Kyiv. A singer, torbanist and composer, he came from a noble family of the Sas coat of arms. He took part in the November Uprising, fighting in the division of Wacław Rzewuski, known as Golden Beard, the Cossackophile, traveller and poet to whom the greatest Polish Romantics, from Mickiewicz and Słowacki to Pol and Padura, paid poetic homage. Padura was a supporter of the joint Ruthenian-Polish struggle for independence. He translated Polish poetry (including Konrad Wallenrod) into Ukrainian. He is considered to belong to the school of Ukrainian Polish literature.

He wrote about 200 songs in Polish and Ukrainian and composed music for them. His best-known songs include ‘Kozak’ (The Cossack), ‘Lirnik’ (The Bard), ‘Ruchawka’ (The Riot), and ‘Zolotaja Boroda’ (Golden Beard, a song dedicated to Rzewuski). He travelled through Ukrainian villages, writing down traditional songs; he based his songs on research of Ukrainian historical sources, such as the collections of the Kyiv diocese. He ran a school of bards, which Count Rzewuski helped organise – he taught the Savran Cossacks the dumkas he wrote. In 1828–29, he wandered around Ukraine disguised as a wandering beggar (dida), singing his own dumkas, popular in Ukrainian villages. Interestingly, he was criticised by many Ukrainian national activists because of the language he used – his Ukrainian contained too many borrowings from Polish, Russian and dialectal forms. He wrote his first poems in Ukrainian using the Latin alphabet. Padura divided his own works into three genres: ukrainki (related to the past), dumy (telling stories about specific historical figures) and pieśnie (songs). Manuscripts of Padura’s diaries and works can be found in the V. Stefanyk National Science Library in Lviv and the National Library in Warsaw.

Ignacy Feliks Dobrzyński (1807–1867)

Ignacy Feliks Dobrzyński by Maksymilian Fajans, photo: CC / Wikimedia

Born in Volhynia, his father ran an orchestra on a nearby estate. From a young age, Dobrzyński participated in rehearsals, and he quickly began to play instruments and mastered notation. He was a pianist, pedagogue, conductor, organiser of Warsaw cultural life and one of the most outstanding Polish symphonists of the first half of the 19th century. In his book Romantyzm bez granic (Romanticism Without Borders), music philosopher Bohdan Pociej emphasises the role of the orchestra in 19th-century music and society.

This 19th-century Romantic apogee of the life of instruments is more ‘absolute’ and as different from the other one, the baroque, as, let us say, 17th-century society is different – in its still ‘feudal’ hierarchies – from the modern bourgeois, industrialised and institutionalised society of the 19th century. […] Not only did composers need instruments to realise their creative goals, but the musical public of the time also loved instruments and needed them...

In 1825, Dobrzyński moved to Warsaw, where he attended the Main School of Music run by Józef Elsner. In his end-of-year report, Elsner noted:

First-year student: Chopin Fryderyk (singular ability).

Second-year student: Dobrzyński Ignacy (extraordinary ability).

Ten years later, already a recognised composer in Poland, he participated in a competition for the best symphony held in Vienna. His Symphony No. 2 in C Minor, ‘Characteristic Spirit of Polish Music’, op. 15, came second, unfortunately not receiving a prize. According to Zofia Chechlińska, it is the first symphony in the history of music entirely based on national motifs. The work was performed in Vienna several times, one of the concerts being conducted by Felix Mendelssohn. Unfortunately, much of Dobrzyński’s extensive compositional output has been lost.

Oskar Kolberg (1814–1890)

kolberg oskar.jpg — Oskar Kolberg, courtesy of Oskar Kolberg Museum, Przysucha

Oskar Kolberg, known primarily as an ethnographer and folklorist, was also a composer. His teacher was Józef Elsner, and he was friends with the young Chopin, whose pianism fascinated him. In 1879, at the end of his life, he recalled:

I often think back to what seems like yesterday, to our scholarly Cadet barracks and that long pavilion by the Lyceum, where we lived, and to Fryderyk’s exercises at the piano.

Kolberg’s musical legacy consists of works inspired by folk motifs, songs for voice, piano and stage compositions. He wrote mainly dance pieces: polonaises, mazurkas, waltzes, polkas, obereks, kujawiaks and contredanses.

One of Kolberg’s best-known works is the idyllic opera Król pasterzy (King of the Shepherds) to a libretto by Teofil Lenartowicz. It was first performed in 1853 in Faustyn Żyliński’s music salon and six years later in the Grand Theatre in Warsaw.

Antoni Kątski (1816–1899) & Apolinary Kątski (1826–1879)

Apolinary Kątski, photo: collection of National Library / Polona / www.polona.pl

They were composer siblings: Antoni was a pianist, and Apolinary played the violin (as did their third brother, Stanisław, who, however, did not achieve such a high standing in the musical world).

Antoni was a wunderkind – performing in recitals from the age of four. He began composing just as early, with his first pieces (‘Taniec polski i anglez’ [A Polish Dance and a County Dance], ‘Taniec polski i mazur’ (A Polish Dance and a Mazur) published at the age of nine. After graduating from the Main School of Music in Warsaw, he went to study in Moscow (piano with John Field) and Vienna (composition with Simon Sechter and piano with Sigismond Thalberg). The tuition with Field was suggested to him by Tsar Nicholas I, who was greatly impressed by the young boy’s playing. Kątski was one of the Polish composer-pianists of the Romantic era who travelled most frequently and furthest. He gave concerts in France (he performed at the Hotel Lambert with Chopin), Italy, Spain and Portugal (at the request of King Ferdinand II, he drew up a plan to modernise the Lisbon Conservatory, for which he was awarded the Order of the Immaculate Conception – interestingly, the project was never realised), Prussia (for several years he was a court pianist to Friedrich Wilhelm IV), Russia (he also reached the Caucasus, where, at the request of Prince Fətəli Axundov of Azerbaijan, he wrote down folk songs there – thanks to this, Kątski became an important figure for the culture of Azerbaijan), Greece, Turkey, Egypt, USA, Australia, New Zealand, India, China, Japan, Siam (Thailand). On many journeys, he was accompanied by his brother Apolinary.

Apolinary was the only Polish pupil of Niccolò Paganini. He was as popular a musician as his brother but preferred a somewhat more sedentary life. In the 1850s, he settled in Warsaw, where he established the Music Institute – the capital of the Kingdom of Poland was then devoid of a music academy, the school run by Elsner no longer existed, and artistic education had been suppressed as part of the post-insurrection repression. The Institute of Music was opened in 1860. One of the university’s lecturers was Stanisław Moniuszko; he taught harmony, choral music, instrumentation and composition.

Tekla Bądarzewska (1834–1861)

Tekla Bądarzewska-Baranowska’s tomb, Powązki Cemetery, Warsaw, photo: Wikipedia.

She was the greatest autodidact of Polish music, author of one of the first global musical hits – ‘Modlitwa dziewicy’ (A Maiden’s Prayer). Bądarzewska’s oeuvre consists of piano miniatures: mazurkas, waltzes, ballades and reveries. She started composing when she was a few years old, and her first surviving work dates from 1843. She distributed her compositions by herself, selling them in local bookshops and salons. Bądarzewska attracted the interest of the eccentric La Païva, a diamond collector and patroness of architecture who ran an art salon in Paris frequented by, among others, Richard Wagner. It was thanks to her that ‘Virgin’s Prayer’, written in 1851, was published in the Revue et Gazette Musicale and later reprinted more than 500 times on five continents. At the end of the 19th century, the Lviv historian Mieczyslaw Opałek recalled:

It made me sick when, through the open windows of the frontage and annexes, of the ground floor and all the floors, musical phrases of a piece flooded out in tones drummed out in some hysterical, impatient rhythm that would certainly have looked completely different in Bądarzewska’s own performance.

Critics ridiculed the simplicity of the pianist’s works. ‘Virgin’s Prayer’ appears in many works of culture, including Chekhov’s Three Sisters (Irina particularly disliked it) and Brecht’s Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny (‘Behold the eternal art!’ shouts one of the guests in the bar as the pianist begins to perform the composer’s piece). Bądarzewska’s works continue to be performed; she is particularly popular in Japan. Polish artists are also coming back to her work: Maria Pomianowska in her album Tekla Bądarzewska. Zapomniany dźwięk (Tekla Bądarzewska: Forgotten Sound) adapts the composer’s works for European and oriental instruments; Anna Zaradny was inspired by Bądarzewska when she prepared the exhibition Rondo znaczy koło (Rondo Denoting a Circle) presented in 2016 at the Sacrum Profanum Festival.

Teodor Leszetycki (1830–1915)

Also known as Theodor Leschetizky, he was born in Łańcut and died in Dresden. He was a pianist, pedagogue and composer associated with the most important musical centres at the turn of the 19th century – Vienna and St Petersburg. In concerts, he accompanied Henryk Wieniawski as a pianist and conductor.

In Vienna, he studied piano with Carl Czerny and composition with Simon Sechter; he also took classes in philosophy. It is worth mentioning that he was only 15 years old at the time but was already a popular tutor hired by the Viennese elite. He later moved to St Petersburg, where he took up the post of concertmaster at the court of Grand Duchess Helena Pavlova and later taught at the Conservatory founded by Anton Rubinstein. It was as a pedagogue that he gained particular acclaim. Among his pupils were Ignacy Jan Paderewski, Ignacy Friedman, Mieczysław Horszowski, Henryk Melcer, Benno Mojsiejewicz, Helena Morsztyn, Artur Schnabel and Paul Wittgenstein (Ludwig’s brother, who lost his right hand during World War I, nevertheless continued his piano career playing with his left hand only; Maurice Ravel composed Piano Concerto in D Major for the Left Hand for him).

His compositional output includes more than 50 works (the exact number is unknown, as some of the works still remain in manuscript form), including the operas Die Brüder von Marco (The Marco Brothers) and Die erste Falte (The First Wrinkle), and the Piano Concerto in C Minor, op. 9. In addition, he composed several hundred piano miniatures (etudes, mazurkas, impromptus, morceaux, preludes, arabesques, nocturnes), often compiled into cycles. His piano (mechanical) recordings have been preserved, including Fryderyk Chopin’s Nocturne in D Flat Major, op. 27, no. 1, and Polonaise in B Flat Major, op. 71, no. 2, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Fantasy in C Minor, as well as works composed by Léo Delibes, Stephen Heller and several of his own compositions. A recording of Leschetizky’s voice has also been found, recorded on an Edison cylinder phonograph (Vienna, 17 January 1907), delivering his artistic motto in German:

No life without art, no art without life. I shall not win the hearts of men with mere scales and rapid thirds but with noble singing, pure and strong, gently and softly. It is not with scales and thirds that one wins people’s hearts but with the beauty of the song, the depth of feeling and nobility of tone.

Henryk Jarecki (1846–1918)

His father composed but above all played the organ in Warsaw churches. Józef Jarecki (1818–1871) played at the Church of the Holy Cross and the Visitationist Church, among others. In the Warsaw press, we can find notes mentioning these performances; for example – the Kurjer Codzienny (Daily Courier) reported that on 10 June 1866, at the Visitationist Church, Jarecki (father) was the accompanist in the service to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, during which Jozef Nowakowski’s ‘Ave Maria’ and Stanisław Moniuszko’s ‘O władco świata’ (O Ruler of the World) were played, among others. Jarecki’s compositions could be purchased at Jozef Kaufmann’s bookshop on Krakowskie Przedmieście for 30 kopecks. Henryk Jarecki took lessons in conducting, piano and double bass playing from August Freyer. He learned composition from Stanisław Moniuszko at the Musical Institute established by Apolinary Kątski. The author of Straszny dwór (The Haunted Manor) was particularly fond of his student and sometimes reached for his works himself at concerts.

Henryk Jarecki won a prize from the Warsaw Music Society in 1872; Moniuszko then recommended him as Kapellmeister of the Lviv opera house (Skarbkowski Theatre; now Maria Zankovetska Theatre, ed.). Five years later, he became its first conductor and director. He presented the Lviv public with all the hits of opera music of the time, himself being most passionate about the music of Richard Wagner. He attached importance to the Polish repertoire, operas by Józef Michał Poniatowski, Józef Elsner, Władysław Żeleński, Ludwik Grossman or, finally, his own.

He went down in history primarily as the author of operas: Barbara Radziwiłłówna (recently restored by Marta Kluczyńska), Jadwiga królowa polska (Jadwiga, Queen of Poland), List żelazny (Safe Conduct), Mazepa, Powrót taty (Father’s Return), Wanda. Stanisław Niewiadomski described his music as a compromise between Moniuszko and Wagner.

Krzysztof Penderecki (1933–2020)

We associate Krzysztof Penderecki primarily with the avant-garde, but after all, his mature oeuvre is anchored in late Romanticism. From the mid-1970s, the compositional language of this ‘avant-garde classicist’ displayed a deep fascination with the works of Wagner, Mahler, Karłowicz, Strauss and Bruckner. To use Bohdan Pociej’s term, Penderecki was a representative of ‘Romanticism without borders’; the philosophising musicologist, writing about Penderecki’s work, said that ‘the old spirit of Romanticism is at work with a new form-creating force’. ‘Post-Romantic music was internalised by Penderecki, recognised as his own’, adds Mieczyslaw Tomaszewski.

Penderecki’s music, especially from Symphony no. 2 (written in the spirit of Brahms), becomes imbued with monumental drama, sonorous melodies, lyricism, a search for beauty, colour and harmonic richness (although the harmonic search is quite distant from that used by the Romantics).

Andrzej Krzanowski (1951–1990)

After Penderecki’s romantic turn, music critics began to use the term ‘New Romanticism’. The leading artists associated with this current were young people from the so-called Stalowa Wola generation – Andrzej Krzanowski, Eugeniusz Knapik and Aleksander Lasoń. Musicologist Leszek Polony, in his text Jeszcze o nowym romantyzmie (Yet More About the New Romanticism), notes that 19th- and 20th-century Romanticism have completely different overtones: then, it was a rebellion against the established order and classical ideals of beauty. Today’s man has different problems; he cannot control the chaos and excess of stimuli around him. The new Romantics strive for:

a reintegration of form, a return to order, tranquillity, some sense of dignity and a unique, supra-aesthetic vocation. Therefore, in some respects, the present breakthrough seems to be the reverse of the one that occurred at the dawn of the 19th century. We are clearly dealing with references to certain categories of Romantic philosophy, aesthetics and style. However, this reference today has a palliative or perhaps even a purifying and regenerative effect.

The Stalowa Wola generation cut themselves off from the established order; the language of the avant-garde was not enough for them. In their works, they connected with the world of nature (as in ‘Audycja II’ [Broadcast II], which imitated the sounds of birds), evoked traditional musical genres marginalised in the 20th century, and sought originality.

Originality is not about being different from others, about producing something completely new. It is about grasping what is original in the etymological sense of the word. About capturing the roots of both ourselves and things.

In his commentary on Symphony no. 2, Krzanowski cites a quote from Max Raphael that illustrates his compositional aspirations well. Krzanowski sought the magic of the world, often utilising avant-garde gestures – performative elements, scenography, and the use of scent.

Written in Polish by Filip Lech, 18 November 2022, last updated 30 January 2024

Translated by Anna Potoczny

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