Happy birthday, Fryc!

Two hundred years ago from today, 60 km west of Warsaw in the middle of absolute nowhere, a boy was born to a modest Franco-Polish couple, and received the names Fryderyk Franciszek.

He was shy, of frail health, preferred milk to wine or tea (and so he isn’t even supposed to be featured on this blog). He loved violets, the Italian opera and wore expensive gloves. He taught the piano to some dumb princesses and countesses and British critics wrote his music was absolute crap. He lived on square d’Orléans and also travelled to Westphalia, Scotland and Majorca where ghosts haunted him in a desert monastery. He died at 39 of consumption, like many people in his time.

He is a man from the past who is more present in our present than any other artist. Why this is so, and why the curious inflections of his melodies continue to be as poignant as the most emotional speech, is one of art’s mysteries.

Chopin’s 200th anniversary brings a plethora of events, from the just finished Chopin Congress and jubilee concert at the Warsaw Philharmonic, through a marathon of music-making almost everywhere in the world, up to the opening of a lavishly redesigned Chopin Museum in Warsaw. Designed by leading Milanese studio Migliore+Servetto and packed with stunning multimedia content on Chopin’s life, art and context, it is a must-see for anyone remotely interested in music and history. The Museum opens to the public on April 6th, and my modest contribution can be enjoyed on a couple of screens in the ‘Paris’ Room. Please book your flights to Warsaw today!