How I got to love Szymanowski’s Variations in B-flat minor, Op. 3

I spend a significant amount of time thinking about the Haydn-ness of Haydn, the Schumann-ness of Schumann, the Bruckner-ness of Bruckner, and so on. But what if this uniqueness occasionally takes a slightly different form? What if a work doesn’t have a clear stylistic imprint, but rather combines elements from various styles in order to form its own narrative? The uniqueness of the Szymanowski variations lies in the effect of mirage that it creates. We drift from tradition to deviation, from past to future, from earnestness to irony, and from sorrow to triumph in an equally wonderful mirage, which organically builds its own form and shape. The experience of this mirage stayed with me long after the work finished.