The Pianist (soundtrack) - Wikipedia
The Pianist () on IMDb: Movies, TV, Celebs, and more What song was Szpilman playing when Technically there are no songs in The Pianist, because . It's 30 years since the death of Glenn Gould, but the pianist still There's a lot of sadness in his life – that it ended so soon, that he was taking all those pills. . to establish a more equal relationship between artist and listener. Metallica are to collaborate with the Chinese concert pianist Lang Lang. As comes to an end, we're asking readers to make an end of make The Guardian sustainable by deepening our relationship with our readers.
In the later record, he sometimes goes at half the speed of the earlier one. And what makes the earlier record so wonderful is its spontaneity — it's really happening in the moment, and it just makes me smile. It's a combination of the incredible technical control he has, but it's also that he is expressing something so incredibly powerful. It's a sucker punch.
Pierre-Laurent Aimard I am fascinated by the strength of Gould's personality, his intelligence, his cleverness, and the way he was able to realise his own world so completely through his playing. I have a great admiration as a pianist for how he did that.
He could be very interesting and funny, and his writings are always quality entertainment. He was an eccentric, certainly, but the way he absorbed the music he played, the way he realised the polyphony of, say, Bach, makes him an interesting phenomenon and ensures his place in the pantheon of Bach players.
What could I say? I couldn't say that I was Jewish, that I was hiding, that I had been in these ruins for months. I told him that this was my old flat, that I had come back to see what was left CaptainWilm Hosenfeld discovered him, ascertained that he was a pianist - to convince him, Szpilman played Chopin's Nocturne in C sharp minor on a battered, out-of-tune piano - and without much further ado found him a better hiding place. Over the subsequent weeks, the German officer regularly brought bread to the Jewish musician, and news from the Front.
Finally, in Decemberhe left him with the words: In fact, it is merely one episode in an extraordinary story of survival, recently published in English as The Pianist.
Wladyslaw Szpilman, already a famous musician and composer when the war broke out - Poles of a certain generation still know the words to his popular songs - was rescued not only by a German but by a Jewish policeman, who pulled him out of a queue of people boarding trains for Treblinka; by his talent, which kept him alive in the starving Warsaw Ghetto; and by, in his own estimate, no less than 20 Poles who smuggled him out of the Ghetto and then hid him in their flats, knowing that they and their families could be sentenced to death for helping a Jew.
In the end he survived for several months alone, perhaps the only person alive in the burnedout ruins of Warsaw, drinking water frozen in the bathtubs of empty flats and eating whatever he could find hidden in destroyed kitchens. Written in flat, almost emotionless prose, The Pianist evokes the strange mix of horror and elation Szpilman must have felt at that time.
His whole family was dead, his city was in ruins, and yet, against all possible odds, he remained alive.
Glenn Gould: a wilfully idiotic genius?
Both the book, and the man himself, are also devoid of any desire for vengeance. There is no finger-pointing in The Pianist, no hatred. Along with his straightforward portrait of Captain Hosenfeld, he depicts good Jews and bad Jews, Poles who helped him and Poles who cheated him. Ideology, nationality and religion, he says now, had nothing to do with anyone's wartime behaviour: In that post-war era, it appeared in poor quality bindings, on bad paper, and in a very small print run, which nevertheless sold out immediately.
After that, the story was forgotten, or rather ignored. In Poland, it was never reprinted: Szpilman tried once or twice to have the book republished, but didn't push. He was more interested in his music, didn't consider himself a writer, and most of all had no interest in politics of any kind.
Only the efforts of his son Andrzej, who lives in Germany, ensured that the book was published there two years ago, where it became a best seller, and now in Britain. But even during its years out of print, Szpilman's story did have some unexpected effects. Among other things, it led him, through a series of chance meetings, to Frau Hosenfeld, the wife of his good German. She wrote to him inwhen her husband was dying in a Soviet prison camp, asking for help.
Szpilman did what he could. Being a celebrity himself, Szpilman simply rang up Berman's office and said he wanted to meet him on a private matter. They met, Berman listened. Nothing came of it. Captain Hosenfeld died in his Soviet prison camp, having been tortured for claiming to have saved a Jew. And not just one: His son has been to visit Szpilman: Standing there on the street, the younger Hosenfeld had what Szpilman can only describe as "an attack of hysteria".
Szpilman himself does not appear prone to such violent emotions. He says he is often asked how he can bear to go on living in a country in which he saw so many people die, but he says that most of the time it doesn't bother him.
Polish is his language, Poland is where he was born - "my son says there was a Szpilman here in the 15th century" - and Poland is where his music was popular, even adored. True, he has never been to Treblinka, where his entire family died: And he does appear i n s e p a r a b l e from Warsaw, and from a certain old-fashioned aspect of the city's culture: His wife, a doctor of 70 who appears no older than50, smiles graciously as she pours tea into English china cups.
The horror and the terror are there, in the background, but they don't show on the surface. After the war, Szpilman gave occasional piano recitals at 8 Narbutta Street, in a building in central Warsaw which he helped to construct as part of a slave labour gang from the Getto. Most of the Jewish brigade who worked there were shot, once the construction had been finished, if they hadn't died already. At the end of The Pianist, Szpilman describes his feelings about returning, once again, to that terrible place: I played to Polish children who do not know how much human suffering and mortal fear once passed through their sunny schoolroom.
But there is more to Szpilman than being "The Pianist". He is increasingly being noticed as a composer, both of concert works and of music in a lighter vein.
To say that the music was Wladyslaw Szpilman's life-blood is more than just a poetic metaphor. The Polish composer and pianist literally owes his miraculous survival of the Holocaust to music.
Born in the Polish town of Sosnowiec on 5 Decemberafter first piano lessons Wladyslaw Szpilman continued his piano studies at the Warsaw Conservatory under A. He also studied composition under Franz Schreker. Inhe returned to Warsaw where he quickly became a celebrated pianist and a composer of both classical and popular music. On 1 April he entered Polish Radio, where he was working as a pianist performing both, classical and jazz music.
The German invasion of Warsaw on 23 September put an untimely but temporary end to Szpilman's musical career when a bomb, dropped on the studios of Polish Radio, interrupted his performance of Chopin's Nocturne in C Sharp minor.
Yet despite the inevitable changes to his life, brought about by the onset of war, Szpilman refused to give up his music. His Concertino for piano and orchestra was composed while he was experiencing the hardships and deprivation of the Warsaw Getto in Time after time, Szpilman managed to escape the deportations.
Even when he and his entire family were packed into cattle trucks to be sent off to Treblinka, the famous pianist was miraculously picked out and spared from the death camp. He fled to the Aryan part of the city and spent two long and agonising years in hiding, always assisted by loyal Polish friends. After the Warsaw Uprising he continued to lead the life of a recluse in the deserted ghost town.
Towards the end of the war, he was discovered by a German officer of the Wehrmacht, Wilm Hosenfeld, who saved his life after listening to the starved pianist play Chopin's C Sharp minor Nocturne on the out-of tune piano of his hiding-place. Basically, when you see Brody playing piano, he is really playing the piece.
When you see closeups of hands, it is the famous Polish pianist Janusz Olejniczak. So, Brody performed Nocturne in C minor in the opening scenes when the radio station was bombed as well as in his return to the radio after the Holocaust.
It is said that the real Szpilman did the same; that is, he opened his return to Polish radio with Chopin's Nocturne in C minor, the same selection he was playing during the bombing. Watch Brody's face for a wince at that actual moment. Brody also did the first several bars when playing for the Nazi commander Wilm Hosenfeld Thomas Kretschmann as well as the opening bars of Grande Polanise Brilliante, Op 22 during the closing credits. What happened to the boy who was trapped under the wall while Szpilman was trying to help him?
What was the boy doing?
The Pianist () - IMDb
In his book, Szpilman says that, when he was finally able to drag the boy out of the drain, he was already dead because he'd been beaten so badly that his spine was completely crushed.
The boy was smuggling goods under the wall, like the other boy Szpilman saw moments earlier that ran away—they were small enough to fit through the drains that had been built into the bases of the walls, so smuggling things like food and other supplies was easy for them.
Unfortunately, the boy found by Szpilman was caught by a German man on the other side of the wall, likely a German soldier or SS officer, and was being cruelly beaten when he was found. How closely does the movie follow the book?
Director Roman Polanski appears to have kept the story intact, even though he added a few scenes based on his own memories.