Ryan's Journal

Chopin will never quite be the same for me after Roman Polanski's The Pianist. One of my favorite composers to begin with, the indelible association movies forge between their score and their story, and this film's powerfully understated telling, add now further meaning to his work. To hear his Ballade is to consider its power, as embellished by good film making and in its historical sense, to poignantly reveal monstrosity and willingly exchange it for whatever goodness can be found. It was a stroke of genius, and presumably historical honesty, to use as the film's musical core the works of Chopin, and then in so restrained a fashion as to only present it in regards to the protagonist's story - not as a disconnected, swelling background sound meant solely to manipulate emotional weight, but in simple, direct relation to the story.

I will not tread lightly when next I sit at a piano bench and contemplate the performance of something of such weight; at the same time, I hope one day I'll have the opportunity to sit in front of a piano regularly once again.

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