fryderykdelicateflower

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T H I S

call me emo or whatever but everytime I play one of the nocturnes in Chopin’s opus 9 I am immensely inclined to believe that Chopin actually beheld a glimpse of me and my life at some point and, due to his revelation, composed those three pieces, because he somehow knew that I would exist someday with a profound need for his music, specifically those nocturnes

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Flower arrangement from Chopin’s deathbed, collected by Solange Clésinger and attached to the setting of a medallion by Jean-François-Antoine Bovy depicting the composer’s face.

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This is such an accurate description of what I feel <3

Rest in Peace Frédéric Chopin: March 1, 1810-October 17, 1849

I have been thinking about this day for a while now. Today I mourn the loss of a man I have never even met, but oddly have felt close to almost all my life. The fact that I suffered a devastating loss of my own last fall makes this all the more poignant. 

I feel a real sadness today, as I do on October 17 of every year. It is a day ingrained in me, a day I will never forget the meaning of, even if it means I feel grief for a total stranger who has been gone long before I was even thought of. It doesn’t make any sense, and I’ve tried to make sense of it, but there is a love in my heart for Chopin that is so special - and if you’re reading this here, I bet you feel that same love. I honestly feel as if I actually knew him… never in my life have I ever felt that for anyone else I never knew.

Our lives could not be more different - and yet it does not matter. His music makes me feel a magnitude of equal joy and sadness I have not experienced elsewhere. It is deeply moving and makes me cry a decent amount of the time. 

It might seem silly, penning a letter to a man who never even knew my name, but I know his… and today, above all days, I will listen to his music and keep his memory alive, for he is always alive so long as we let him live through his music. Let his name never be forgotten among the crowd of talented composers. I like to think he watches us from Heaven and is overjoyed that his fans live on.

I am crying as I type this. Why does he affect me so? I don’t know. What I do know is that I’ll love him until the day I die, and I hope I can see him in Heaven someday.

Rest in peace, sweet Frédéric.

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I leave all condolences aside, they seem poor things in the presence of great sorrows.

Fryderyk Chopin, in letter to Solange Clésinger, on receiving the news of the death of her new-born daughter. 11th March 1848.

I felt it would be adequate to share this quote today, because today is the 169th anniversary of Chopin's death. I am always lacking words on this day because what I feel for him is very difficult to describe. In fact, I feel like I cannot fully understand it myself. 

When I read his letters, I smiled at his joys and felt sad for his sorrows. Many times, when I look to his photograph, I look into his eyes and I feel my heart pressed in my chest. I feel like I miss him desperately, as if he had been indeed a friend of mine to whom I used to confide everything. In those moments, I have an urge to hug him and tell him that he made the world a more beautiful place. Through his music, he made me more aware of the beauty of nature, the beauty of the tiny little things that often go unnoticed; I truly realized how beautiful a flower can be in its simplicity, how graceful and tender is the swirling of the autumn leaves before they touch the ground, even the night sky would not have the same pearly and velvety feel to it if I had never heard the Nocturnes, and when I see a bird placidly hovering at dusk against a pink sky, I always hear the opening phrase of the 4th ballade in my mind. He's not just my favorite composer, he is someone who, not having met me, somehow knew me, and in his art, he presented a portrait of myself to me.

A few months ago, I visited his grave, and when I first saw the head of Clésinger's sculpture peeking through the trees, I felt a punch in my stomach and immediatly started sobbing. As I stood there, crying my eyes out, just a few feet above his bones, feeling ridiculous, I asked myself how could I be having such an intense reaction, how could I be crying so much, with genuine sorrow, if the person I was crying about had been dead for over a century before I was even born? I still don't know how to answer this question, I still don't know exactly why I love him this much, because it's not just about the wonderful music he created, it's something else which, despite not knowing how to describe exactly, I feel very intensely. But then, I realized that we should never feel ashamed or ridiculous if it is love that we are feeling; it empregnates our hearts with gratitude, it is what makes us good, it brings beauty to our lives and so we should always strive to have and to share more of it, rather than conceal it or feeling ridiculous about it. 

There was also a moment where I sat on the little stairs next to his grave while listening to some of his pieces. Although it was a cloudy day, at that moment the sky cleared and the sun shone through the trees. And there I was, listening to the work of his life, right beside him. I looked up to the sky and smiled. At that moment, I felt I was not just beside his silenced body, but with him. I felt so happy. 

I wish I could thank him exactly as my heart desires, for all the beauties and happiness he has given to me. Sometimes, I feel that words are insufficient, and so, I hope that, wherever he is, he can feel the intensity and sincerity of the love that I have for him, because that is the only real tribute I can pay him. I hope that he is free from his troubles and happy knowing that, even 169 years after his passing, he still has so many friends who love him dearly.

  What I wouldn't give to hug him.

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Oh and another cute little thing about him that completely melted my heart, on the summer of 1843, during his stay at Sand’s house in Nohant, their friend, the singer Pauline Viardot had to leave her baby daughter, Louisette, in the care of Chopin and Sand, while she sang in several concerts throughout Europe. George Sand describes how quickly little Louisette captivated everyone, including Chopin. She wrote: “Chopin adores her and spends his time kissing her hands”  and how the baby “dances, laughs, babbles and talks to Chopin in polish”.

And this little girl went on to inspire Chopin, who on that summer started writing his beautiful Berceuse (listen here to this sweet, amazing interpretation by Ashkenazy).

Just imagining this lovely scene happening, Chopin cuddling a little baby on his arms and kissing her tiny hands, my heart feels so warm and cosy aaah god I love him

Whenever I’m sad I just remind myself that Chopin was so sensitive and precious that he would cry upon hearing beautiful music even as an infant

And then I get a lot more sad

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My mom: *looking at the cover of my Chopin CD* Chopin’s quite handsome.

Me: *laughs nervously*

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Photo Album: “Fryderyk Chopin’s Family in 1829” by Ambroży Mieroszewski (1802 - 1884)

■ Ambroży Mieroszewski (1802–1884) was a Polish painter who was Fryderyk Chopin’s first known portraitist. In that same year, Mieroszewski also painted a portrait of the Fryderyk ’s first professional piano teacher, Wojciech Żywny.

■ The set of five 1829 portraits of the surviving members of the Chopin family (the youngest child, Emilia Chopin, had died of tuberculosis at age 14 in 1827) were painted about a year before Fryderyk Chopin would leave Warsaw and his native land forever in November 1830.

■ All six portraits were the property of Laura Ciechomska of Warsaw when they were lost in the opening days of World War II, in September 1939. Only black-and-white photographs of them survive.

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Your sister doesn’t know the sublime piece of heaven she is missing

My 14-year-old sister keeps saying to me “Why are you so obsessed with Chopin? He’s old and dead!”

Reblog if you are obsessed with Chopin despite him being “old and dead”

I want to prove to my sister that I’m not the only Chopin fangirl out there

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what makes chopin so difficult to play isn’t necessarily the complexity or speed of his compositions, but is actually trying 2 see all the tiny notes through ur tears

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oops I did it again

So I wanted to make a portrait of Chopin and so I did these sketches to explore different poses, and then I ended up polishing them up a bit ;_;

It’s so difficult to capture his elegant and delicate nature <3

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It was snowing - just like one of our winter days [in Poland]. At 4PM I went to Chopin's [at 9 Square d'Orleans], where I found Witwicki [...]. Chopin entered unexpectedly, pale, tired, but in good spirits and in an inspired mood. He greeted me affectionately and sat down at the piano. It's impossible to describe the form and subject of his playing. For the first time in my life, the beauty of the music moved me so vividly that I could not hold back my tears. All the nuances, all the musician's emotions, I could grasp, and I remember in the most exact way the motives and the feelings I had while listening to each piece. First he played a magnificent prelude, then a cradle-song [Berceuse], then a mazurka, then the cradle-song again, of which Mme Hoffman said that the angels in Bethlehem must have sung like that. There followed a splendid Polonaise, and finally, in my honour, an improvisation in which he evoked all the sweet and sorrowful voices of the past. He sang the tears of dumkas, and finished with the national anthem 'Poland Has Not Yet Perished!' in a whole gamut of different forms and voices, from that of the warrior to those of children and angels. I could have written a whole book about this improvisation.

Józef Bohdan Zaleski, polish poet. Entry from his diary, 2nd February 1844.

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So I just discovered this wonderful, complete recording of Chopin’s songs, played on a Pleyel piano from 1848 and although I don’t understand the polish language (very unfortunately) yesterday I was a sobbing mess listening to all these beauties  ;_;

Although I love them all so much, my favorites are Wiosna, Spiew z mogily and Pierscien. I looked up for an english translation of some of the songs and when I read the translation of Pierscien  I instantly thought about Maria Wodzinska, because the poem is about giving your beloved a silver ring only to see her marrying another man, and then my heart shattered while listening to this song, not only because it is beautiful, but also because Fryderyk wrote it when Maria’s family broke their engagement. And I just can’t imagine how heartbroken he must have been when he composed it

Piano: Nelson Goerner

Soprano: Aleksandra Kurzak

Tenor: Mariusz Kwiecien

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Chopin: Song Wiosna, Op.74 nº2

Today is the first day of Spring! To mark the beginning of the new season I thought it would be nice to share this beautiful, dreamy song, composed in 1838. It’s unfortunate that Chopin’s songs are so rarely performed and recorded; they are little precious gems coming from a composer who wrote almost exclusively for the piano, and here, he grants us the rare opportunity to witness his music sung by a human voice, which he loved so much.

Poem: Stefan Witwicki (polish poet and friend of Chopin)

Soprano: Aleksandra Kurzak

Piano: Nelson Goerner

~ Here you can listen to the piano solo version of this song, arranged by Chopin himself, and played by Vladimir Ashkenazy ~

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Today is 188th anniversary of Chopin’s first public concert!

It took place in National Theatre near the Krasiński Square in Warsaw.

The original program:

First part

1.Overture to Leszek Biały, by Józef Elsner

2.Allegro from Piano Concerto in f minor, by Fryderyk Chopin

3.Divertissement for french horn, composed and played by Mr. Goerner (I don’t know who he was, I read the piece possibly was an improvisation)

4.Larghetto and Rondo from Piano Concerto in F minor, by Fryderyk Chopin (Larghetto was named Adagio on poster)

Second part

1.Overture to Cecylia Piaseczyńska, by Karol Kurpiński

2.Variations La Biandina, by Ferdinardo Paer, performed by Mrs. Mejerowa

3.Fantasy (pot-pourri) on Polish Airs, by Fryderyk Chopin

And here is original poster!

There is a CD with almost the same pieces, played on period instruments. Cecylia Piaseczyńska, which didn’t survived in orchestral version, is replaced by Zamek na Czorsztynie. And of course we don’t find here piece by Mr. Goerner.

You can listen to this CD here, but IMHO better performances of Kurpiński’s and Elsner’s works are on YouTube. Yeah, much better. But anyway, CDs or concerts with historical program are always good idea!

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“Chopin au piano et sa muse” (Chopin at the piano and his muse) by Jacques Froment-Meurice, Parc Monceau 8e arrondissement, Paris

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Happy Birthday, Frédéric Chopin!

Frédéric Chopin was born on this day at Zelazowa Wola in Mazovia, in the Warsaw region of Poland.

Chopin’s birthplace in Żelazowa Wola.

Happy Birthday, Grandmaster.

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Happy birthday, Chopin!

I’ve been thinking about this day for days, maybe even weeks. It’s your birthday!!!! Happy 208th! Wish I could have met you in person… I’m just glad that so many people still love you and think of you, today and always. Happy birthday, Frédéric  ❤️