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In memory.

Nicolas Von Jahn-Burian Posted: july 17, 2022 / Modified: july 17, 2022
In memory.
In memory.
There were two men who shaped me at a young age. More than that, they made me what I am today. One of them was my grandfather. His life was music. He led a classical orchestra. His passion went hand in hand with the interpretation of works of art. Works of art of classical music. He would sit for days, nights and write new, different voices to pieces of music by old masters. Even today, in places, in situations, I can still hear the smell of the old paper on which he wrote notes and the small room, in an old disused mill, to which a winding staircase led, infinitely long for me at the time. I listened to him play on his violin, an instrument made by Nicolas Augustin Chappuy in the early 18th century. It survived wars, lived through the history of generations. And this is how it sounded, this is how my grandfather played it.

The second of these men who shaped my life early on was my old art teacher. Monsieur Ballon. He taught me to draw, and with him, too, it was more. Through him I was able to dream, similar to grandfather. Monsieur Ballon had a story for every picture, for every single work of art. None of these stories resembled another, previous one. He taught me art in words, through words. Sensuality, brutality, beauty, madness, screams and the almost silent whisper of history. A picture must tell a story. It is not enough to have one red spot, six coloured bars on canvas. The viewer should live a picture. In its simplicity, its complexity or through its pure symbolism.

And that is what these two men made of me. They could not protect me from bad things for my future. But they could shape my soul and send me out into the world. With a look that they probably also had. And this gaze, always discovering beauty anew, allows us to go on, to hope. Grandfather Emil and Monsieur Ballon
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