Robert Schumann, Carnaval (1833–1835)

“Eusebius: In sculpture, the actor’s art becomes fixed. The actor transforms the sculptor’s forms into living art. The painter turns a poem into a painting. The musician sets a picture to music. Florestan: The aesthetic principle is the same in every art; only the material differs.”

Robert Schumann, 1833

Schumann’s style of piano writing has a warmth and privacy that set it apart from the music of any of the other pianist-composers of his day. A favorite marking on his scores is the German word innig, meaning “inward,” “intimate,” or “heartfelt.” Schumann typically assembled his piano pieces into collections with some general title and, often, some interesting musical means of connection among them. Just as the Romantic character piece for the piano is analogous to the Romantic lied, so these collections by Schumann are analogous to song cycles.

Such a collection is Carnaval, a set of twenty short character pieces that really are characters — musical portraits of masked guests at a Mardi Gras ball. After the band strikes up an introduction, the sad clown Pierrot arrives, followed by the pantomime figures Harlequin and Columbine, Schumann himself, two of his girlfriends masquerading under the names Estrella and Chiarina, and even the composers Paganini and Chopin. This diverse gallery provided Schumann with an outlet for his whimsy and humor, as well as all his Romantic melancholy and passion.

Eusebius Eusebius was Schumann’s pen name for his tender, dreamy self, and this little piece presents him at his most introspective. In the passage below, the yearning effect of the high notes (shaded) is compounded by the vague, languorous rhythm:

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The right-hand groups of five and three blur with the left-hand quarter notes, especially when played with Romantic rubato. The somewhat unusual form is aa ba b′a′ ba, in which b′a′ stands out, although it differs from ba only in its much thicker chords, heightening the emotional warmth, and its use of the pedal.

Florestan After “Eusebius” ends very tentatively, Schumann’s impetuous other self makes his entrance. “Florestan” is built out of a single explosive motive; the piece moves in fits and starts. At first the motive contrasts with a calmer one, but then it gets faster and faster, almost madly, ending completely up in the air. This non-cadence is resolved only in the next number.