Janina Fialkowska - A Note In Time

Contents

Imprint Imprint All rights of distribution, also through movies, radio and television, photomechanical reproduction, sound carrier, electronic medium and reprinting in excerpts are reserved. © 2021 novum publishing ISBN print edition: 978-3-903861-97-8 ISBN e-book: 978-3-903861-98-5 Editor: Ashleigh Brassfield, DipEdit Cover images: Ulrich Wagner Cover design, layout & typesetting: novum publishing Images: Janina Fialkowska; p. 346: Sgt Joanne Stoeckl, Rideau Hall © OSGG, 2002 www.novum-publishing.co.uk

Dedication Dedication For Harry

For Harry 4 Dedication For Harry

Acknowledgements Acknowledgements There have been a few friends who, with their memories, their enthusiasm, their patience and their expertise, have been of invaluable help in the writing of this book and I’d like to thank them all. I think the greatest debt of gratitude goes to Nicola Schaefer who read the book right after it was first written and convinced me it was of some value. Since then, she has never stopped pushing, prodding and providing motivation until it was finally finished and sent off to the publishers. Others who played a vital role are Judith Rice Lesage who helped me with all the foreign translations, Lady Annabelle Weidenfeld, my brother Peter, my cousin Alison Hackney, John Pearce, Linn Rothstein, Flora Liebich, Elaine Plummer and Jeffrey Swann. And many thanks to my friends Richard Sauer and Josefine Theiner who got tired of hearing about the book as it gathered dust on my studio shelf, and found a publisher for me: Novum Publishing and the excellent and thoughtful Bianca Bendra who has expertly guided me through the entire publishing process. Finally I would like to thank my husband Harry; quite frankly, without him, there would be no book.

Chapter 1

Whirlwinds of Snow (“Chasse Neige”) by Franz Liszt 6

Chapter 2

Scenes from Childhood (“Kinderszenen”) by Robert Schumann 21

Chapter 3

The Sounds and the Scents (“Les sons et les parfums”) by Claude Debussy 53

Chapter 4

A Maiden’s Wish (“Zycenie”) by Frédéric Chopin 66

Chapter 5

Invitation to the Dance (“Aufforderung zum Tanz”) by Carl Maria von Weber 73

Chapter 6

All Was Created by Him (“Par Lui tout a été fait”) by Oliver Messiaen 98

Chapter 7

Nights in the Gardens of Spain (“Noches in los jardines d’Espagna”) by Manuel de Falla 128

Chapter 8

“Marche funèbre” from the B flat minor Sonata by Frédéric Chopin 150

Chapter 9

Concerto in the Italian style (“Concerto nach italiänischen Gusto”) by J.S. Bach 183

Chapter 10

Dances of the companions of David (“Davidsbündler Tänze”) by Robert Schumann 202

Chapter 11

“Everything Waits for the Lilacs” by John Burge 232

Chapter 12

“Navarra” by Isaac Albéniz 258

Chapter 13

Variations on “Rule Britannia” by Ludwig van Beethoven 271

Chapter 14

Mazurka: Our Time (“Notre temps”) by Frédéric Chopin 302

Chapter 15

“Remembrances” (“Efterklang”) by Edvard Grieg 321

Epilogue

Dates to Remember

List of Photographs

Imprint

All rights of distribution, also through movies, radio and television, photomechanical reproduction, sound carrier, electronic medium and reprinting in excerpts are reserved.

© 2021 novum publishing

ISBN print edition: 978-3-903861-97-8

ISBN e-book: 978-3-903861-98-5

Editor: Ashleigh Brassfield, DipEdit

Cover images: Ulrich Wagner

Cover design, layout & typesetting: novum publishing

Images: Janina Fialkowska; p. 346: Sgt Joanne Stoeckl, Rideau Hall © OSGG, 2002

www.novum-publishing.co.uk

Dedication

For Harry

Acknowledgements

There have been a few friends who, with their memories, their enthusiasm, their patience and their expertise, have been of invaluable help in the writing of this book and I’d like to thank them all. I think the greatest debt of gratitude goes to Nicola Schaefer who read the book right after it was first written and convinced me it was of some value. Since then, she has never stopped pushing, prodding and providing motivation until it was finally finished and sent off to the publishers.

Others who played a vital role are Judith Rice Lesage who helped me with all the foreign translations, Lady Annabelle Weidenfeld, my brother Peter, my cousin Alison Hackney, John Pearce, Linn Rothstein, Flora Liebich, Elaine Plummer and Jeffrey Swann.

And many thanks to my friends Richard Sauer and Josefine Theiner who got tired of hearing about the book as it gathered dust on my studio shelf, and found a publisher for me: Novum Publishing and the excellent and thoughtful Bianca Bendra who has expertly guided me through the entire publishing process.

Finally I would like to thank my husband Harry; quite frankly, without him, there would be no book.

Chapter 1

Whirlwinds of Snow (“Chasse Neige”) by Franz Liszt

My eyelids flickered as I slowly drifted back into consciousness. A pale, sickly blue light filtered through my damp lashes and, bit by bit, I became aware of my surroundings. There was an unnatural stillness. Sounds were muffled, distant. I knew that I was in a hospital recovery room, and the realization that I was still alive caused a smile to cross my face before more complex thoughts were generated in my brain, dulled by anesthesia. There was a numbness in my left arm and the peaceful insouciance of a drug-induced state was soon dispelled when, in a sudden panic, I attempted to wriggle my fingers under the bedclothes. But all was well; they moved as before: pianist’s fingers. My heart continued to thud at an alarming rate and cold sweat spread across my forehead.

The world eventually shifted into focus; lights brightened, sounds amplified, and I remembered: this was a cancer hospital and I had just lost a chunk of my left arm. I could see that I was not alone in my predicament, which was somehow reassuring. That day there were many of us, lying in our cots in three tidy rows, waiting for the surgeons to deliver their verdicts. Some patients were still unconscious while others were surrounded by family members speaking in low, encouraging tones. There were those who, like myself, lay silently with a knot of anxiety growing within, and those who seemed to find delight in calling out loudly and repeatedly for the nurses, unable to cope for even a few seconds on their own. The cries of the few who were in extreme distress were heart-wrenching; I felt empathy, pity, but mostly fear in the presence of such suffering. In the bed next to me someone was moaning softly, but although I tried to turn my body around to see, I found I was more or less tied down and couldn’t budge. My left arm felt heavy and lifeless but, mercifully, I felt very little physical pain.

Nurses flitted efficiently from patient to patient, brightly cheerful, dealing briskly with the stress of a room vibrating with palpable anguish. The sounds of disembodied voices, machines beeping, curtains being pulled to and fro, wheels turning and oxygen pumping soon became exhausting. I was freezing cold and shivering so badly the bed was rattling. My body felt sticky and saturated with hospital stench, dried blood and disinfectant, and I had been pumped full of liquids during the procedure, so my bladder was constantly and painfully full and oh, how I loathed even the thought of bedpans! Also, like the sword of Damocles, the pending results of my biopsy hung perilously over me.

Presently a nurse, noting that I was awake, stopped by to ask how I felt. In a display of totally inappropriate fortitude, I reassured her that I felt fine when actually I felt quite dreadful, having suddenly been engulfed in waves of nausea. Minutes later I disgraced myself by being sick, mostly – although not completely – into the little basin conveniently stationed within reach.