The Mazurka

The mazurka’s evolution into a symbol of national identity is closely linked to Poland’s turbulent history. For centuries, the country was subjected to occupations and partitions. Many Poles went into exile, while others organised resistance from abroad. Among them was General Jan Henryk Dąbrowski who led Polish legions alongside Napoleon. In his honour, the poet Józef Wybicki wrote the lyrics to what would become Poland’s national anthem, also called »Dąbrowski’s Mazurka«. Originally a song of defiance against occupying rule, its stirring refrain, »Poland is not yet lost«, became an enduring symbol of hope and resilience after World War I.

It was at the beginning of the 19th century that the dance then found its way onto the black and white keys of the piano: the first collections appeared in print and composers such as Karol Kurpiński and Maria Szymanowska enjoyed great success with their mazurka miniatures. At a time when folk dances were already in vogue, the mazurka swept through the salons of Europe – especially in Paris, where the leading virtuosos of the age performed it, among them the young Frédéric Chopin. He transformed the peasant dance into poetic miniatures, full of longing for his homeland, which he would never set foot in again. Gradually, these piano works became increasingly emancipated from its original folk roots: the earthy dance became refined, expressive music for the concert hall. Chopin’s contemporaries recognised at the time that he was composing his greatest music in these short works.

Franz Liszt enthused: »What can be said about the mazurkas, these small, capricious, yet perfect masterpieces? A flawless sonnet outweighs a long poem, said a man who was an authority in the most beautiful century of French literature. We would like to apply this exuberance to the mazurkas and say that, for us, many of them surpass entire operas.«

In diesem Artikel kann man mehr über Frédéric Chopin, den »Meister der Mazurka«, erfahren.

Other composers eagerly embraced this dance form, creating a rich spectrum of mazurkas coloured by personal expression, national character and the spirit of their times. In Germany, for instance, Clara Schumann composed mazurkas in her teenage years in her »Soirées musicales« that bring together playful elegance with folkloric undertones.

In France, Camille Saint-Saëns, Gabriel Fauré and Claude Debussy carried the lively, bouncy rhythm into their own style. They never met Chopin, who died in 1849 – Saint-Saëns was just fourteen, and Fauré only four – but his spirit still lingered in the Parisian salons, kept alive by virtuosos like Franz Liszt. Many French composers looked to Chopin as a role model early in their careers and also tried their hand at the mazurka. While Saint-Saëns still drew heavily on the romantic soundscapes, his students Fauré and the later impressionist pioneer Debussy moved further away from their Polish predecessor’s influence, developing their own tonal languages.

In Russia, too, the mazurka made the leap from folk tradition to music as part of the Arts. The country’s long history of occupation fostered an unintentional cultural exchange. Pyotr Tchaikovsky included a mazurka in his Children’s Album, and composers such as Alexander Scriabin and Sergei Rachmaninoff later introduced the dance form into the 20th century. Though Scriabin did not match Chopin’s 60 mazurkas, he did compose 23 within a decade – works that trace his artistic evolution from Chopinesque lyricism toward his own intellectual, lyrical and mystical sound world.

The mazurka is, all at once, a piece of folkloric heritage, a national symbol and a playground for artistic experimentation. Its journey stretches from the village square to the salons of Europe and into the concert halls of today. And it has never lost its vitality and allure that so many love and that continues to be a source of fascination to this day.