Frederic Chopin (English)

Chopin is using language of XIX century middlebrow, ordinary European music lover . This musical language was used by “languorous ladies”, “cultured officers” and all other “sensual” very sentimental ladies and gentlemen. They are John Field, Oginski, Griboedov and all the others able to take a feather and to write some notes. That’s why Chopin attracts so many idiots, musical saints and all “good family children”. If we compare this language with literature, it is close to that of his fertile girlfriend Aurore. It’s a romantic and passionate graphomania.
But with Chopin there was “a little problem”: he found himself the only non-graphomaniac among all those who used this terrible “language of accessibility”. He remained the man with enormous capacities of original thoughts and feelings.

 

In his thoughts, Chopin is very frank and radical, revolutionary sharp, sarcastically merciless, full of biting humor and black grotesque but also, suddenly, open coquetry… On the other hand, in the expression of feelings, he sinks “without looking back” into the most deep “jungles” of human relationships. Unimaginable for girls, officers or “talented servants” like Griboedov.

He entered the world of open eroticism, evil passions, frank near pathological perverse romantic “situations” and collisions, ill moral conditions and expressed it all in music. In “his Freudian musical forest” have been wandering around forlorn kids (!), maidens, youth and other god’s fools.

This is quite a curse to be doomed into eternal misunderstandings within eternal “popularity”. It’s a penalty for such an open, approachable language.

If we are to characterize in a few words the content and meanings of Chopin’s music, and in general his character expressed by Chopin-composer, we will say that – Chopin is the one of the most toughest composers. His music is truly audacious and brutal, it is frontal and shocking. It’s like a slap in the face to the outside world, camouflaged by a muslin drape from maiden’s’ bedrooms, with the fist perfumed with violet patchouli.

Translated by ZJanna Melnichuk

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s