suggested
to take over his responsibilities?
Never! That's not my affair.
I would say that is your duty now.
The late Nikolai Grigorievich
was often accusing me
of not having a sense
of public duty.
But I'm not good at
arguing with people.
Of all that persuading, insisting
and demanding. I can't do that.
For instance, my opera "The Maid of
Orleans" is opening in St. Petersburg,
and I'm staying on here because
I want to escape the turmoil.
And how do you feel?
Are you satisfied with
The Maid of Orleans?
Of all the music I have written,
this is the best.
Why have you stopped reading?
Go on.
Why should I go on?
They're only saying awful things.
Well, that's fine. Let's hear
what these awful things are.
Well, if you want to hear such trash,
it's up to you.
"'The Maid of Orleans' is the poorest
of all Tchaikovsky's operas.
Most irritating is the thinness and
unimportance of the musical forms.
The themes strike one with their
emptiness,
their lack of taste,
their middle-class sentimentality."
Listen, this is interesting.
"Anyone who is convicted of stealing
soap
must immediately wash with it
until it disappears."
- Give me my pince-nez.
- How should I know where it is?
All right, I'll try to read it
without my glasses.
I'm not going to let you
ruin your eyes.
- How dare you!
- I dare!
You can fire me if you don't like it.
Some idiots write trash and others...
If they tried composing music,
you'd see what I'd write about them...
Don't take it so much to heart,
dear Pyotr Ilyich.
What do you care
what these spiteful people think?
You know very well
that you are a great composer,
and that your music will live long
after they have disappeared.
No, Nadezhda Filaretovna,
I'm afraid the truth is that
I'm finished.
I'm dissatisfied with my old work
and don't know any new way.
Each time I seem to discover a path
which will lead me to something new,
it turns out to be a dead end.
This feeling will pass, my dear.
You're just tired. You must rest.
My God! Oh, merciful God...
You seem to know how to feel
my distress,
and to come to my aid at the most
difficult period of my life.
It's nothing more than distance
that separates us from each other.
We have long become
nearly the same being.
In your music we have found
this intimacy we know.
In this sense
I have no rival.
In that domain it is I
who reign supreme.
Pyotr Ilyich, I wonder
if you've ever been in love?
I don't believe so.
You love your music much too much
to be able to love any woman.
How can I answer you...
Yes, and no...
If you put that question differently -
Have I known the full happiness
of love...
then I would answer, no.
No. No.
But if you were to ask, if I have
known the full power of love,
its immeasurable strength,
its driving force...
then I would say, yes!
Yes! Yes!
Don't you feel it
in my music?
Sometimes I'm convinced that music
only increases man's unhappiness
because it shows more than anything
that happiness can exist.
A happiness that is magnificent
and real.
It taunts you
because it cannot be reached.
When I first heard that
you had gotten married...
I felt something was torn
from my heart.
It made me feel so bitter,
and when I found out you were unhappy
with this woman, I rejoiced.
I hated that woman.
But I would have hated her
a thousand times more
if you'd been happy with her.
You see I'm not so fine and unselfish
as you thought I was.
Yes, you are amazing.
You are marvelous.
No one's been closer to me than you
ever before.
I'd like to make some sacrifice
to show how devoted I am,
to repay you somehow
for everything
you've done for me.
Is there anything I can do?
Be happy.
I don't ask for anything more
than I already have.
I want no change
in our relationship.
What I feel
when I think of you,
belongs to me,
and I can find within myself
the solution to any difficulty.
Come here.
Here you will find a house
where no one will