Autumn Sonata Page #5

There is a chasm between emotion

and sentimentality.

The prelude you played speaks of

suppressed emotion, not reveries.

You have to be calm,

clear and austere.

Take the first few bars...

It hurts, but he's not showing it.

Then - brief relief.

But almost instantly it fades away

and the pain remains the same,

not greater, not lesser.

A constant and complete restraint.

Chopin was proud, sarcastic,

impetuous, tormented

and very manly.

He was no sentimental old woman.

This prelude must be played

in an almost ugly manner.

It mustn't be seductive,

it should sound wrong.

Laboured, or successfully negotiated.

Like this, I'll show you.

I see.

- Don't be upset, Eva.

- I'm not upset. On the contrary.

I've worked on these preludes

for forty-five years.

Many secrets still remain,

things I do not understand.

As a child I admired you terribly.

Then I was fed up with you

and your pianos for many years.

Now I'm beginning to admire you

again, in a different way.

- Then there's hope.

- I suppose so.

- Eva, where are you?

- I'm upstairs, Mother!

There you are. I've changed

so that we can go for a walk.

- Isn't this the nursery?

- Yes, it's Erik's room.

You've just left it like this?

Viktor and I often talk of redecorating,

but we don't get round to it.

Sometimes I come here

to sit and think.

- Let's go out now.

- Wait.

Do you feel how peaceful it is here?

Erik died the day before his fourth

birthday... but you know that.

Viktor couldn't handle it - Erik and he

had a special bond.

Outwardly, I grieved for him a lot,

but deep down inside

I feel he is still alive,

that we are still close to each other.

I only have to concentrate a little

and he's right there.

Sometimes, when I'm going to sleep,

I can feel his breath on my face.

Then he touches me with his hand.

He's in his world, but we can

reach each other any time.

There is no boundary,

no insurmountable wall.

At times I wonder what the reality is like

where my boy lives and breathes.

At the same time

I know it can't be described,

as it's a world of liberated emotions.

Do you know what I mean?

To me, man is

an unparalleled creation,

like an unfathomable thought.

Everything exists in man,

from the highest to the lowest.

Man is created in God's own image,

and everything exists in God.

And so man is created,

but also the demons and the saints,

the prophets and the artists,

and all those who destroy.

Everything coexists, grows together.

Enormous patterns that constantly

change. Do you see what I mean?

In the same way, a limitless number

of realities must exist,

not only the reality we can grasp

with our blunt senses,

but a tumult of realities that arch

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