Alkan was, according to many accounts, not only a virtuoso pianist but a warm, if slightly shy, individual. It was through Alkan’s professor at the Conservatoire, P.J.G Zimmerman, that the young student was introduced into the prestigious social circles that throughout his life he tried to distance himself from.
Amongst the acclaimed artists, Alkan met Frederick Chopin and became, for a while at least, a close friend and colleague. They shared students and performed together. Chopin commented on Alkan’s brilliance, which was a rare sentiment from Chopin.
Charles-Valentin Alkan’s Life Biography
Social Circle and Personality
By the early part of the 1830s, Alkan was fully in the limelight and mixing with highly influential, powerful people. Achieving a manageable balance between fame and musical aspirations proved too much for Alkan, and he withdrew completely from life for nearly six years.
This was to become a recurring pattern throughout his life, leading to a deep distaste for humanity and the direction the artistic world was heading.
Alkan’s reaction may be challenging to understand, given the immense respect many eminent people had for him. Even though Alkan felt himself to be in the shadow of Franz Liszt, Liszt had no doubt of Alkan’s technical prowess, and some feel that he may have been in awe of Alkan.
Sadly, this was not enough to prevent further periods of self-imposed isolation.
Professional Setbacks and Isolation
1848 was a particularly troubling year for Alkan. His mentor and associate, Professor Zimmerman, retired from the Paris Conservatoire. As Zimmerman’s assistant and one of the most gifted individuals, Alkan would have been the natural successor.
This didn’t happen, and the effect on Alkan was marked. Add to this a falling reputation as a composer and the loss of his closest friend, Chopin, in 1849, and you find a disillusioned man. Alkan did not play a concert again for twenty-five years . He slipped into seclusion and relative obscurity.
In 1873, Alkan inaugurated a series of concerts that ran with reasonable success up until 1877. The program Alkan selected often consisted of music from more obscure composers such as WF Bach, John Field, Moscheles, and Chopin.
Liszt was noticeably absent from these concerts. On occasion, Alkan also included some of his own compositions. These were greeted with astonishment, but as time progressed, these works lost favor.
Musical Style and Legacy
Thankfully, many of Alkan’s compositions have survived. What we hear in many of them is a profound melancholy, even depressive quality, but this dark sonority does not align itself with a sullen musical mood.
In Alkan’s piano works, we hear unusual extremes in his use of the piano’s registrars, as well as highly frenetic, almost manic rhythmic movement. Often, those who haven’t heard Alkan’s music before are stunned by their emotional response and the blistering virtuosity.
Musicologists have frequently compared Alkan’s music to that of Hector Berlioz, perhaps in the way Alkan is to the piano what Berlioz was to the orchestra. Robert Schumann felt this link so significant that he commented that Alkan was merely copying Berlioz.
What is evident is that Alkan composed directly according to his virtuosic skills at the piano, whereas Berlioz hardly played the instrument at all. Additionally, Alkan’s work established a close relationship with the more Germanic side of music, while Berlioz remained staunchly French.
Major Works and Compositional Techniques
The two books of Minor Key Etudes (1857), and Alkan’s Grande Sonata (1848), are arguably the most recorded and well-known pieces. Like so much of his work, these pieces make unparalleled demands on the pianist.
They are not for the faint-hearted and take considerable time to prepare both technically and emotionally. These works, alongside many others, were not readily published during Alkan’s life, as 19th-century publishers may not have conceived of a market for such complex pieces.
There is undoubtedly a symphonic element to the first book of Etudes. Like a true master of the instrument, Alkan could summon an orchestral sound world from the piano. Alkan selected four of the etudes to form a symphony, which runs for around fifty minutes of performance duration.
These are epic works, and unbelievably demanding to play. Each of the four movements demonstrates Alkan’s mastery of form, melody, and mood. From the melancholy Marche Funebre to the hot-tempered finale, Alkan’s music speaks to us in ways that are hard to find an equivalent for.
The second book opens with what is effectively a Concerto of Herculean dimensions. The three movements or Etudes start with a demonic, barbarous polonaise, followed by a type of overture, and conclude with one of Alkan’s more famous etudes, Le Festin d’Aesope.
In this piece, Alkan conjures all manner of animals, from fleas to birds and dogs. It is astonishing. The form of this piece is a theme and variations, a structure Alkan liked to employ but always pushed the limits of, much like Beethoven.
Less Demanding Works
Not every work by Alkan is so demanding. The Op. 31 Préludes and the set of Esquisses, Op. 63, are not technically straightforward, but more approachable for pianists of modest technical ability.
The Esquisses are a collection of exquisite miniatures, some very short at around eighteen bars. Each is deftly constructed and challenging. No. 45, titled The Imps, uses tone clusters that stretch the ears beyond what one would normally associate with works of this period.
Influential Works and Poetic Inspiration
1856 and 1859 saw the publication of two further major works by Alkan. His Op. 45 Salut, cendre du pauvre, is a tone poem inspired by the poem of Gabriel-Marie Legouve titled La Melancholie. Alkan’s Super flumina Babylonis (Op. 52) is a glorious vision of Psalm 137, By The Waters of Babylon.
Each of these works is substantial and illustrates just how able Alkan was to evoke emotions and craft poetic musical landscapes. 1872 saw the final work Alkan published, his Op. 75 Toccatina, a characteristically charming piece that requires dexterity and a certain amount of gentle humor.
Death and Posthumous Legacy
Alkan was, according to some sources, killed by a falling bookcase that toppled onto him while he was reaching for his hallowed copy of Talmud. Other accounts suggest he may have died as a result of being trapped beneath a heavy coat or umbrella stand.
Either way, it was a tragic end to a difficult life marred by professional and personal failings, many outside Alkan’s control.
Following his passing, many of Alkan’s scores were given to his brother, Napoleon, who was less than scrupulous about preserving his brother’s legacy.
Many scores were lost, but Alkan’s music has enjoyed a well-deserved revival in recent years. Hopefully, it will be his music that we celebrate, minimizing our curiosity about his reclusive nature and lamentable death.