Frédéric Chopin citations

Frédéric Chopinfoto

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Frédéric Chopin

Date de naissance:22. février 1810
Date de décès:17. octobre 1849
Autres noms:Frédéric François Chopin

Frédéric François Chopin est un compositeur et pianiste virtuose d'ascendance franco-polonaise, né en 1810 à Żelazowa Wola en Pologne et mort en 1849 à Paris.

Issu du côté de son père d'une famille d'origine lorraine, après sa formation au Conservatoire de Varsovie et un début de carrière en Pologne et à Vienne, il choisit d'émigrer en France où il trouve son inspiration dans l'effervescence du monde pianistique parisien et dans le souvenir de sa patrie meurtrie. Il y rencontre George Sand, qui sera sa compagne pendant neuf ans.

Reconnu comme l'un des plus grands compositeurs de musique de la période romantique, Frédéric Chopin est aussi l'un des plus célèbres pianistes du XIXe siècle. Sa musique est encore aujourd'hui l'une des plus jouées et demeure un passage indispensable à la compréhension du répertoire pianistique universel. Avec Franz Liszt, il est le père de la technique moderne de son instrument et son influence est à l'origine de toute une lignée de compositeurs tels que Gabriel Fauré, Maurice Ravel, Claude Debussy, Sergueï Rachmaninov ou Alexandre Scriabine.

Citations Frédéric Chopin

Frédéric Chopin foto
Frédéric Chopin19
Polish composer
„How strange! This bed on which I shall lie has been slept on by more than one dying man, but today it does not repel me! Who knows what corpses have lain on it and for how long? But is a corpse any worse than I? A corpse too knows nothing of its father, mother or sisters or Titus. Nor has a corpse a sweetheart. A corpse, too, is pale, like me. A corpse is cold, just as I am cold and indifferent to everything. A corpse has ceased to live, and I too have had enough of life…. Why do we live on through this wretched life which only devours us and serves to turn us into corpses? The clocks in the Stuttgart belfries strike the midnight hour. Oh how many people have become corpses at this moment! Mothers have been torn from their children, children from their mothers - how many plans have come to nothing, how much sorrow has sprung from these depths, and how much relief!… Virtue and vice have come in the end to the same thing! It seems that to die is man’s finest action - and what might be his worst? To be born, since that is the exact opposite of his best deed. It is therefore right of me to be angry that I was ever born into this world! Why was I not prevented from remaining in a world where I am utterly useless? What good can my existence bring to anyone? … But wait, wait! What’s this? Tears? How long it is since they flowed! How is this, seeing that an arid melancholy has held me for so long in its grip? How good it feels - and sorrowful. Sad but kindly tears! What a strange emotion! Sad but blessed. It is not good for one to be sad, and yet how pleasant it is - a strange state…“

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