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"Swann in Love"
the Jacquemart-André Museum

Un amour de Swann - ProustUn amour de Swann - Proust
Concert on Marcel Proust - Sunday, February 8th, 2015 at 19:00

"Swann in Love"
Marcel Proust - Reynaldo Hahn

If one seeks a definition of the word masterpiece, this book is an indisputable example. A chiseled language in the service of passion labyrinth of a tortured and admirable love. All prods games of seduction to find their willing victims ...

Memories where beauty vies with the refinement of suffering hearts raw. Marcel Proust's prose is here coupled with wonderful melodies by Reynaldo Hahn, one of his companions, who set to music the poetry of T. de Banville, F. Coppe, P. Verlaine, Hugo V., T. Viau ...

Always fascinated by the beauty of the language of Marcel Proust, Dame Felicity Lott, the most Francophile divas britan- picnics, and Jacqueline Bourgès, his musical accomplice, chose the most beautiful melodies to illustrate this genius. Alain Square, actor-director, partner of great musicians, conducted entirely the writing of this show from Marcel Proust texts in harmony with the melodies.

A literary and musical journey flying high ... an appointment at a salon like those favored by the author to share these pages and immortal sheets!

"I find very reasonable the Celtic belief that the souls of those we have lost are held captive in some inferior being, in an animal, a plant, an inanimate thing, indeed lost to us until the day, many of which comes ever, we are in pass near the tree, take possession of the object that is their prison. Then they tremble, call us, and as soon as we have known them, the spell is broken. Issued by us, they conquered death and return to live with us. This is our past. It is a waste that we seek to evoke, all the efforts of our intelligence are useless. It is hidden out of its domain and scope in some material object (in the sense that we give this material object) that we do not suspect. This object, it depends on the chance that we meet him before dying, or that we do not met. "
(Marcel Proust - Du côté de chez Swann)

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