I was born in Zelazowa Wola in central Poland near Sochaczew, in the region of Masovia, which was part of the Duchy of Warsaw. I was born to Mikolaj (Nicolas) Chopin, a Frenchman of distant Polish ancestry who adopted Poland as his homeland when he moved there in 1787, and married Tekla Justyna Krzyzanowska, a Pole.
My family moved to Warsaw in October 1810. My young musical talent was apparent early on in my life, and in Warsaw I gained a reputation as a "second Mozart". At the age of 7 I was already the author of two polonaises (in G minor and B-flat major), the first being published in the engraving workshop of Father Cybulski, director of the School of Organists and one of the few music publishers in Poland. The prodigy was featured in the Warsaw newspapers, and "little Chopin" became the attraction at receptions given in the aristocratic salons of the capital. I also began giving public charity concerts. At one concert, I am said to have been asked what he thought the audience liked best. 7-year-old me replied, "My shirt collar." I performed my first piano concert at age 8. My first professional piano lessons, given to me by the violinist Wojciech Zywny (born 1756 in Bohemia), lasted from 1816 to 1822.
The further development of my talent was supervised by Wilhelm Würfel (born 1791 in Bohemia). This renowned pianist, a professor at the Warsaw Conservatory, gave me valuable (although irregular) lessons in playing organ, and possibly piano. From 1823 to 1826, I attended the Warsaw Lyceum, where my father was a professor. In the autumn of 1826, I began studying music theory, figured bass, and composition with the composer Józef Elsner (born 1769 in Silesia) at the Warsaw Conservatory.
In 1829 in Warsaw, I heard Niccolò Paganini play, and I also met the German pianist and composer Johann Nepomuk Hummel. I met my first love, a singing student named Constantia Gladkowska. This inspired me to put the melody of the human voice into my works.
In Warsaw in December I performed the premiere of my Piano Concerto in F minor at the Merchants' Club. I gave the first performance of my other piano concerto, in E minor at the National Theatre on 17 March 1830. I visited Vienna again in 1830, playing my two piano concertos.
I had already composed a body of important compositions, including my two piano concertos and some of my etudes Op. 10.
My Career in Paris
In Paris I was introduced to some of the foremost pianists of the day, including Friedrich Kalkbrenner, Ferdinand Hiller and Franz Liszt, and I formed personal friendships with the composers Hector Berlioz, Felix Mendelssohn, Charles-Valentin Alkan, and Vincenzo Bellini (beside whom I am buried in the Père Lachaise). My music was already admired by many of my composer contemporaries, among them Robert Schumann who penned the now famous review of the Variations Op. 2: "Hats off, gentlemen! A genius."
I participated in several concerts during my years in Paris. The programs of these concerts provide some idea of the richness of Parisian artistic life during this period, such as the concert on March 23 1833 in which I, Liszt and Hiller played the solo parts in a performance of Johann Sebastian Bach's concerto for three harpsichords, or the concert on March 3 1838 when I, Charles-Valentin Alkan, Alkan's teacher Pierre Joseph Zimmerman and my pupil Adolphe Gutman played Alkan's 8-hand arrangement of Beethoven's seventh symphony.
Me and George Sand
In 1836, at a party hosted by Countess Marie d'Agoult, mistress of fellow composer Franz Liszt, I met Amandine-Aurore-Lucile Dupin, Baroness Dudevant, better known by her pseudonym George Sand. She was a French Romantic writer, noted for her numerous love affairs with such prominent figures as Prosper Merimée, Alfred de Musset (1833–34), Alexandre Manceau (1849–65), and others.
I initially did not consider her attractive. "Something about her repels me," I said to my family. However, in an extraordinary letter from Sand to her friend Count Wojciech Grzymala in June 1837, she debated whether to let me go with Maria Wodzinska or whether to abandon another affair in order to start a relationship with me. Sand had strong feelings and was attracted to me, and pursued me until a relationship began.
A notable episode in our time together was a turbulent and miserable winter on Mallorca (1838–1839), where we had problems finding habitable accommodation and ended up lodging in the scenic, but stark and cold Valldemossa monastery. I also had problems having his Pleyel piano sent to me. It arrived from Paris after a great delay, to be stuck at the Spanish customs who demanded a large import duty. I could only use it for a little more than three weeks; the rest of the time I had to compose on a rickety rented piano to complete my Preludes (Op. 28).
During the winter, the bad weather had such a serious impact on my health and my chronic lung disease that, to save my life, I and George Sand were compelled to return first to the Spanish mainland where they reached Barcelona, and then to Marseille where we stayed for a few months to recover. Although my health improved, I never completely recovered from this bout. I complained about the incompetence of the doctors in Mallorca: "The first said I was going to die; the second said I had breathed my last; and the third said I was already dead."
In 1845 a serious problem emerged in my relationship with Sand at the same time as a further deterioration in my health. Our relationship was further soured in 1846 by family problems; this was the year in which Sand published Lucrezia Floriani, which is quite unfavourable to me. The story is about a rich actress and a prince with weak health, and it is possible to interpret the main characters as Sand and myself. The family problems finally brought an end to our relationship in 1847.
Death and funeral
In 1848 I gave my last concert in Paris, and visited England and Scotland with my student and admirer Jane Stirling. We reached London in November, and although I managed to give some concerts and salon performances, I was severely ill. I returned to Paris where in 1849 I became unable to teach or perform. My sister Ludwika nursed me at my home in the Place Vendôme; I died there in the small hours of October 17. Later that morning a death mask and a cast of my hands were made.
I had requested that Mozart's Requiem be sung at my funeral, which was held at the Church of the Madeleine and was attended by nearly three thousand people. The Requiem has major parts for female singers but the Madeleine had never permitted female singers in its choir. The funeral was delayed for almost 2 weeks, until the church finally relented and granted my final wish provided the female singers remained behind a black velvet curtain. Also performing was the bass Luigi Lablache, who had also sung the same work at the funerals of Beethoven and Bellini.
Although I am buried in the Père Lachaise cemetery in Paris, at my own request my heart was removed and dispatched in an urn to Warsaw, where it is sealed in a pillar in the Church of the Holy Cross.
