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August 25, 2003
Almanac
One day I was trying to pick out a Mozart sonata on the piano. Like all poor pianists, I unconsciously emphasized the "sentiment" as I played. All at once, my father interrupted me."Whose music is that?"
"Mozart."
"What a relief. I was afraid for a minute it was that imbecile Beethoven." And, as I expressed my surprise at his severity, he went on: "Beethoven is positively indecent, the way he tells about himself. He doesn't spare us either the pain in his heart or in his stomach. I have often wished I could say to him: ‘What's it to me if you are deaf?' It's better for a musician to be deaf, anyway. It's a help, like any obstacle. Degas painted his best things when his sight was failing. Mozart had a far harder time than Beethoven, yet he was modest enough to hide his troubles. He tries to amuse me or to move me with notes which he feels are impersonal. And he is able to tell me much more about himself than Beethoven with his noisy sobbing. I want to put my arm round Mozart and try to console him. After a few minutes of his music I feel that he is my best friend, and our conversation becomes intimate."
Jean Renoir, Renoir, My Father
Posted August 25, 2003 12:01 PM
