During the past ten years, our trio—the Amelia Piano Trio—has made a priority of juxtaposing standard repertoire with new commissions and lesser-played works by famous composers. It’s with this desire that our pianist, Rieko Aizawa, suggested that the trio program the rarely performed Chopin Piano Trio, Op. 8, for our 2008–09 season.

Listening to the piece, we were immediately drawn to the power, complexity, and color palette of this fantastic work. Interestingly, I had heard from a former student, Leah Weinberg, that it was possible to play the work on viola instead of violin. With a bit of research, I was even able to find a letter Chopin had written in 1830— two years after completing the work—confirming his desire that the viola assume a major role in the work. In the letter, Chopin states that he should have written the violin part for viola “as the first string predominates in the violin and in my trio is used hardly at all. The viola would, I think, accord better with the cello.” With this in mind, our trio set out to learn an old piece in a new way.

Blended Voices

Since no viola part existed for the piece yet, I transcribed the violin part for viola (see music on page 41). For the first rehearsal, I brought both my violin and viola, so we could make an educated comparison between the two versions. We were all struck by the difference—on the viola, the trio came to life. By centering the melodic material on the A string, virtuosity emerged that was lacking in the violin version. Also, the viola’s ability to blend with the cello brought a shared sound world which enabled the piano part to shimmer above our lines—and to weave the delicate passages above and below our combined sound. In the viola transcription, I brought several accompaniment sections down an octave to the same register as the cello—leaving nearly all of the virtuosic sections as is. I believe that this new version could become a standard in the viola repertoire—and judging by the E-mails I have been receiving from as far away as Australia, violists are eager to get their hands on this ground-breaking new work.

Learn to Speak Chopin

The opportunity to learn the language of a new composer can bring with it challenges both technical and musical. This piece was a whole new world for us when the Amelias started learning it. The violist has to play many different roles—soloist, supportive partner, rhythmic drive; I can’t recall a work of chamber music for the viola that comes close to the demands of this trio.

Often the music is tinged with sadness, and phrases that seem driven to conclusion can change course. Even when playing a passage of virtuosic 16th notes (as in mm. 43–46 and 184–187 in the first movement), look for the shading and coloring. In the last movement, which features a forlorn mazurka as the first theme, the tapering at the end of rising sections (mm. 124–136) gives a flavor different from any other composer. When you have the leading voice, dig in, but try not to show the power behind your sound—it’s like playing with force, but pretending you’re not.

In terms of character, Chopin might not immediately speak to you like other composers do. We had to peel away the meaning behind every note—there are few expression marks in the piece, so interpretation became the driving force behind every technical decision we made.

In the second movement, a minuetto, we chose to play the “A” section with a brightness and swing, paying special attention to balance. The trio, on the other hand, is dominated by a sweet, dreamy viola line that we chose to play almost at a whisper, each phrase rising and disappearing with a little dance step.

The third movement is a series of aria-like statements from each instrument. Initially we went for dramatic effect, but have since rethought that approach. We’re now playing the opening with a tender optimism that sets off a fiery central section. The viola solo (mm. 13-20) needs to be front and center, but at the same time it has to be played with air and sweetness in the sound, allowing the viola line to dip below the other voices and to reemerge.

For me, that was the difference in playing Chopin: getting comfortable with the solo line not always being clearly heard.

It is somewhat intangible—like a story that you may be hearing in a crowded room rather than alone in a one-on-one conversation.

Get tips for balancing and blending in a piano trio in “Working with a Pianist”