130 kilometers north of Prague, the town known as Karlsbad was already famous in the 19th century for its numerous hot springs. Today it is part of the Czech Republic. Its original name is Karlovy Vary and it has turned into a spa town that every summer receives the visit of many celebrities.
It was there where, for three weeks in August and September 1835, Chopin was with his parents for the last time. Frédéric traveled from Paris and his parents from Warsaw, to meet again after a separation of five years.
A recent biographer of Frédéric tells us that they arrived almost simultaneously in mid-August, staying at the hotel The Golden Rose, where they were received by some old friends, Polish exiles living in the area, with whom they will spend time until September 6 when they traveled to Teplitz for a few days to then visit the counts Thun-Hohenstein in his castle, from where finally Nicholas Chopin and Justina will leave for Warsaw on the 14th of that month. Frédéric will stay one more week with the Thun-Hohenstein, before returning to Paris, where he had been living since 1831.
The biographer points out that in those three weeks Frédéric composed a mazurka, the waltz opus 34 N° 1 and the Polonaise N° 1 from Opus 26. (We heard the latter in the rendition by the Ukrainian pianist Valentina Lisitsa).
Our biographer also points out that during those three weeks, in addition to composing, Frédéric livened up the evenings by playing the piano for his parents and friends. At this point, Dorie, a great friend of this blog has raised a disturbing question: on what piano did Chopin compose and play during that stay?
It is natural to assume that the works may have been created in the house of the Polish friends, perhaps in Teplitz, in the Hohenstein castle, who knows. It may be, says my friend, skeptical. I want to believe, she continues, that if today many hotels admit a piano in the lobby it is because an old tradition so dictates. The hotel The Golden Rose was a pioneer, she says: the upright piano, somewhat out of tune, was in a small and rustic dining room adjoining the reception room. On that piano, Frédéric improvised in the mornings, and in the evenings he played for those who were present there.
Fortunate circumstance – my friend finished off –, that of those guests who happened to meet Chopin in those days and who, during the dinner, could hear pieces of virgin music emerged from the hands of a pale and thin youth, who after playing, smiled at them as if he had not done anything to write home about.
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