A nocturne is an homage to the blinking darkness that pollutes the sun’s visits. A nocturne articulates the fleeting poetry, ephemeral angst, the everlasting dream crafted under the watchful rays of the moon; a trailer for tomorrows light.

Of course, it was us Irish who first sonically captured the milieu of the night. That’s not necessarily correct. Johann Christian Friedrich Hölder (1782-1837), more commonly known as John Field, was born in Dublin. His German-born father played the flute, and along with the Italian composer Tommaso Giordani (~1730-1806) taught the future savant the language of music.

Like all successful Irishmen, Field moved to London in 1793, gaining recognition from the musical elite including Muzio Clementi (1752-1832) who became his mentor. Clementi could have never imagined that this young Irishman would one day be a pallbearer at his funeral.

Clementi introduced Field to the likes of Joseph Haydn, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, and Ludwig van Beethoven. After eight years of tumult, Field left with Clementi to St Petersburg and would stay in Russia until his death.

Field’s life was turbulent. He suffered from chronic asthma and gout, numerous strained relationships, personal tragedies, illegitimate sons, alcoholism and, of course, as with any musician, a lifetime of financial instability. Yet he shared friends, many lovers, participated in the exchange of kindness and gifted the world one of the most beautiful forms of expression to ever be conceived.

Field struggled finish anything, he was anxious, or in more positive terms, a perfectionist. This was until 1808, which kicked off the most productive decade of his life. In this decade, he wrote his 18 Nocturnes that would inspire the world over. He performed across Europe where he demonstrated his musical mastery:

In performance, Field would interpolate an existing nocturne in a related key or improvise one.

He was an artist; he expressed himself and was rewarded for that. With his wealth and success, he fell into a life of extravagance, which came back to haunt him with a bout of rectal cancer disturbing his 1820s. After two decades more of hospital visits, he died. His last words were a pun, a final gift of joy to the world: “I am not a Calvinist, but a Claveciniste (French for harpsichordist).”

There is no evidence that Field and Frédéric Chopin (1810-1849) ever met in person, yet it was Chopin who coined Field as “the father of the nocturne”. Field’s works, while evocative, are more timid. His harmonies and chord progressions are largely diatonic; musically, they sound simple – at least from my listening to his work.

Chopin exploded the Nocturne with modulation, chromaticism, and dynamics. Chopin’s work feels as if it juices all the emotions of the night, expressing it’s every form. He shows us its danger, its brutality, its restlessness, its temperature, its unease, and also its stunning beauty. The mood of Chopin’s nocturnes details not just the reverie or contemplation of the night (as with Field), but its drama and passion.

I write all this as I have not written about music on this blog before, and it is such a big part of my life. Nocturnes, as a form of music, transport my mind to the night; it is deeply therapeutic. The sound feels sympathetic; in listening and playing, you share the modulations of life that are usaly only felt in the loudness of solitude. The music mutes the mind, tells you your not alone. It cries and laugh simultaneously, showing us the absurdity of affection.

Anyways watch this drive

Nocturne