I now pay tribute to Chopin on his birthday in the best way I know how: with some T. S. Eliot.
We have been, let us say, to hear the latest Pole
Transmit the Preludes, through his hair and fingertips.
“So intimate, this Chopin, that I think his soul
Should be resurrected only among friends
Some two or three, who will not touch the bloom
That is rubbed and questioned in the concert room.”
“Chopin broccoli” – Dana Carvey.
Y’know, ladies and gentlemen, a long time ago there were a lot of people — but that was a long time ago.