On my journey toward learning how to play piano, I’ve been trying to find beginner-level sheet music for nocturnes – I’ve always loved the nocturne form of classical music (a piece inspired by night). The problem with my search is that I cannot escape Chopin who is famously known for creating some of the most beautiful (and therefore most complex ones).
He wasn’t the only composer to compose nocturnes but he did it so well that it’s now difficult to find other composers’ works. Chopin, according the internet, is ‘the nocturne guy.’
I wonder – would Chopin, who died in 1849, be happy with how we view his ‘breadth’ today? I mean, he wrote other stuff too, but the nocturnes stuck and, culturally, have drowned out others. Perhaps this is a mark of mastery of the form. Or perhaps it’s a sign of our culture and the way it simplifies complexity of an artist – a ‘consistent brand’ that’s easy to understand. Maybe it’s a bit of both.
I’ve written before about the difference between chameleons and peacocks – and the perceptions that are possible to craft of ourselves based on the work we put into the world. The work we make and share is the work we get asked to make. Simplistically, this boils down to ‘market positioning’ but it can also be a trap.
The challenge is nuanced – one must make the work the heart wants to make but this will create a ‘brand’ as perceived by others, especially if that work is of a certain type. For Chopin, this became nocturnes.
But that brand also sets an expectation such that when the heart evolves and makes work that doesn’t fit that expectation, it risks looking ‘incoherent’, which, in marketing speak, makes it more difficult to attract a reliable audience; Chopin also wrote mazurkas.
There’s no ‘right way’ when it comes to art and marketing, after all, chameleons and peacocks co-exist successfully, but perhaps it’s worth noticing if the work we’re making is indeed heart-led, or whether what we’re making is trying to fulfill an expectation we’ve created in others, or by our past selves.