CHOPIN AND DALIDA: TWO MIGRANT STARS
In an era of indifference, intolerance and downright hostility towards external and internal migrants across this supposedly civilised Europe of ours, it is important to remember how much a foreigner can contribute to the cultural life of his or her adopted country. Yet, it seems rather hypocritical that while most migrants are marginalised and rejected by societies at large, when an expatriate happens to be loved by the wider public for his or her artistic talent, there almost always erupts a quarrel between the countries of origin and the adoptive ones to claim “ownership” of the artist by imposing this or that nationality onto them.
Historically, France has continually drawn migrants from all over the world. Over the centuries, countless non-natives settled in the country; many of them became or were already famous. Two examples come to mind: the 19th-century composer Frédéric Chopin and the 1950s-to-1980s popular music singer Dalida. The former because he’s an all-time favourite and the latter because her cultural roots are very close to my own. In the singer’s case, in fact, there are three claimant countries: Italy, France and Egypt.
Many assumed Dalida to be French. Others wanted her to be Egyptian. To this day, there is still some degree of confusion among her fans as to her exact origins. The diva seemed to enjoy playing around with this ambiguity or mysteriousness. When she sang in French, her Italian accent was enhanced almost artificially and when she spoke in Italian, she sounded francophone.
Born in Cairo, to Italian parents from Calabria (her father was a violinist at the Cairo Opera House), Dalida lived all of her adult life in France, where she became the country’s most beloved chanteuse for a very long time, singing mostly Italian songs translated into French and selling a whopping 170 million albums worldwide. A naturalised French citizen, the superstar always maintained dual nationality: French and Italian – even though in one of her interviews on French television, she admitted to feeling “complètement française”. After all, she had never lived in Italy and although born in Egypt, she had grown up in an expat environment and never held Egyptian citizenship. She did however learn Arabic in school and she sang and recorded several songs in the Afroasiatic language. Dalida is credited for bringing the first ethnic fusion hit to the popular music scene: “Salma ya Salama” is based on a traditional Egyptian folk song and was translated into French, Italian and German. Thirty years after her tragic death, the singer is still revered in Egypt and throughout the Arab world. Dalida is buried in the Montmartre Cemetery, where a life-size sculpture of the diva has been erected.
With regard to Chopin, the dispute has of course been between Poland and France, the Poles being adamant that Fryderyk was Polish through and through. To be fair, the French have not been too argumentative about it, probably because the French novelist George Sand, Chopin’s long-term companion, once described him as being “more Polish than Poland”. But Chopin is no Polish name. Frédéric’s father, Nicolas, was a Frenchman who worked as a language teacher in Poland. And although Polish-born, Frédéric himself settled in Paris aged 21 and never returned to Poland, albeit due to Imperial Russia’s occupation of his homeland rather than by real choice. The painful longing for his lost motherland is very much expressed in his music.
In Chopin’s time, Poland didn’t actually exist as a state - it was a territory divided between three mighty neighbours: Russia, Prussia and Austria. In 1830, an uprising broke out in Warsaw. It was suppressed brutally by the Russian Empire. In response, anguished and angered by the news, Chopin wrote the famous “Revolutionary Étude” (or “Étude on the Bombardment of Warsaw”) in C minor, as well as the Scherzo in B minor, whose slower middle section quotes an old Polish Christmas carol.
As Poland struggled for independence, both in the 19th and 20th centuries, Chopin’s music came to be perceived as a weapon. The great composer Robert Schumann described it as “cannons buried in flowers”. A hundred years later, during WWII, the Nazis must have been well aware of the power in Chopin’s music, as they banned it altogether during their occupation of Poland.
Born in a tiny village west of Warsaw, Chopin knew the Polish countryside well. There, he came across peasants playing folk tunes and dancing traditional Polish dances, such as mazurkas and polonaises, which inspired many of his later pieces. Poland undoubtedly ran through his veins. Nevertheless, Chopin’s music isn’t entirely Slavic. Even some of his most Polish compositions, the Polonaises, have a distinct French and therefore Latin flavour. Besides, Chopin was known to be a big fan of Italian opera and particularly of Bellini’s works. Several elements of bel canto are to be found in Chopin’s piano music: the long-lined, melancholic melodies, the rubato, the ornate embellishments. I believe it was this magical blend of Slavic and Latin cultures that shaped his unique musical genius.
Chopin died in Paris at the age of 39 and, as he lay dying, he made a specific request: for his heart to be returned to his beloved homeland. After being smuggled past Russian border guards, the internal organ was eventually entombed in a pillar at Warsaw's Holy Cross Church. In Paris, the rest of his remains lie at the Père-Lachaise Cemetery, along with other migrant and non-migrant stars, such as Balzac, Oscar Wilde, Proust, Modigliani, Jim Morrison, and Édith Piaf, who, incidentally, was of French, Italian and Berber descent.
A quote by F. Chopin:
“Bach is an astronomer, discovering the most marvellous stars. Beethoven challenges the universe. I only try to express the soul and heart of man.”
