So what is it about Prelude 16 that's me? Honestly, the song probably demonstrates what makes me tick more than it describes me per se. In a flair for drama that characterized Chopin, the opening chords serve as a starting line. Then, all of a sudden, the relentless gallop of the left hand jumping two to three octaves on the lower register provides a solid, brisk infrastructure over which a barrage of frenetic 16th notes in the upper reaches of the keyboard comes down. Finally, in the last four bars, the race to the end comes to a crescendo as both hands climb up four octaves playing sixteenth notes in unison. Quite a rollercoaster ride! I vividly remember playing the prelude on my laptop for a Western Civilization course I taught for troops in Afghanistan. We were discussing the Romantic era. It transported me, and perhaps a few soldiers and airmen, away from the combat zone, albeit for just one minute! Those who know me know that I like my music fast, hard, and dark. Prelude 16 isn't dark, but it's not particularly cheerful either.
The song describes my personality, I suppose, in so far as I can be a rambunctious character who always seems to be in a hurry. I find myself sometimes literally running from one thing to the other. My mom remarked on this peculiar trait when I was a kid. I was running then, and I'm still running in my forties. Don't try to pigeonhole me as a "manic depressive," as some have, however. And what I'm about to write probably isn't going to diminish your resolve to label me so. But the one thing the prelude does not capture about me is my more lugubrious side. I'd have to refer to another Chopin piece for this purpose. I'm well aware and gratified by the fact that Der Viator readers are avid listeners to Chopin. So next time you sample the sixteenth prelude at a listening party or otherwise, think of me running to my next task.
