Leipzig, May 1747
It takes a steady hand to lance a cataract.
It mustn't be too late,
and not too early.
And me?
Am I too late,
or too early?
Let's have a look.
That is good.
Lancing both your eyes ...
that is rather risky ...
and somewhat painful.
Maestro ...
in a few months you will be in darkness.
A Dominique de Rivaz Film
Potsdam - At Court
The good sir asks of us 2000 thalers,
to extract sugar from our beets? What one lives to see, Goltz!
Sugar from beets!
Sir should stick to the manufacture of muskets and cloth,
thus would he have our goodwill.
When sir extracts gold from a cowpat he may return to us.
It is our honour, etc ...
One really ought to spank Your Majesty. That often helped when you were small.
3 years of war in the Silesian rain, and not the slightest cold.
Then you insist on having that deserter flogged in the rain,
and a little storm brings on this mishap ...
Why did you have to march into Frisia? That province is a swamp.
Malaria. One catches gout and
apoplexy there.
Doctors are all alike: you deliberate much and achieve little. Goltz!
The letters! Have you the letters from Vienna? And the codebook?
Not yet, Majesty.
But here is a list of those we hold at the border this very hour:
Englishmen, Frenchmen ...
And the usual spies. - Magnificat! A nice catch!
So, a christening in Potsdam you say?
Name? - But I've told you ten times already. Bach, Johann Sebastian.
I see ...And the name of the child?
The christening has not taken place. It has no name as yet.
You don't know it's name? - Let's call him ...
Adam? - That's better.
It's my first grandchild. - Our youngest dumpling!
Dumpling? I see ...
The father's name?
Carl Phillip Emanuel Bach. Harpsichordist to King Frederick II
at the local court. - And him? Your son?
Doesn't one see that? - Deliberating is, sadly ... permitted.
But the King demands respect and obedience! Age? - Thirty.
Wilhelm Friedemann Bach. My eldest son. Organist in Halle.
None with an honest trade in the Bach family?
Keep your hands off that, you scoundrel!
A harpsichord is not an ass!
You think you can yank open its mouth to check its teeth?
Emanuel Bach.
Harpsichordist to his Majesty. - Monsieur Bach!
Your Majesty, I bring a new composition to fit the occasion. A trio.
Excellent. Was it commissioned?
No, not commissioned.
But I thought that ...
Your new Sans Souci residence ... the inauguration ...
I thought a "Trio d'Adieu",
to bid farewell to the Town Palace ...
Non-commissioned music? Monsieur Bach,
you are employed as harpsichordist and director of music at my court.
I do not ask of you to think or write music. Goltz!
If I might ...
most humbly ... a favour ...
My wife has recently delivered. A son.
Our first son.
The ...
The burden on the household, the costs of a christening ...
Let her deliver.
That's what women are for. 300 thalers a year are enough. No more.
Interesting melody.
Does Monsieur Bach wish to be escorted back?
Bach! Your father has just been announced at the border.
I thank you for informing me of his coming!
Your father’s attendance exempts you
in no way from directing this evening's concert. Dismissed!
Has Your Majesty any orders for the move?
Let this evening's concert begin earlier. Why are you waiting, Stumm?
Does one have to call a carriage before you move?
Highness, please watch the tempo! You are wrestling with me!
Forget about that, Quantz! No tantrums! Enough playing, Amalia!
The King calls the tune ...
and the little sister must dance.
You are sick! - Stop her caterwauling, Quantz!
There are more important matters! Listen.
And if you hear, then what?
A nice beginning. Bravo. May one ask whence you got this theme?
No, one may not. Sit down and play.
Bach is in Potsdam, Quantz!
Johann Sebastian? In Potsdam? - We will put him to the test.
We will demand that he improvise.
Improvise on this theme. A fugue in three parts.
No, better still, a fugue in six parts!
The old man from Leipzig deserves double stakes. Quantz, play, search ...
And above all: complicate.
You want ... that I should make the great Bach stumble?
Majesty, Bach is a friend.
A man of his calibre,
known throughout the word ... With respect, I feel it's a bad idea,
at his age ... he could be your father!
My father?
Don't preach to me, professor Quantz.
How much do we pay you? 2000 thalers? And the flutes extra?
To work, Quantz, to work!
Something like this?
Yes!
Make the notes impossible for him!
So this is our dumpling!
The smallest of the great Bachs. - I didn't expect you so soon.
Friedemann decided at the toll gate that he should be called Adam.
Friedemann decided?
Adam?
I would have preferred Johann Sebastian, in your honour.
What's in a name?
Look at me! Friedemann, man-of-peace!
Ridiculous. Better to call him Adam.
Where is our Emanuel hiding?
The King requires the presence of his musicians every evening.
Emanuel wanted to excuse himself ... - But once again he didn't dare
to put his foot down. - Now, to the table! I am starving!
I am exhausted, soaking wet.
Three days in that boneshaker is too much at my age.
And that aside, sweet Johanna,
there's a smell of pastries in the air!
His Majesty commands the presence of the Capellmeister at Anhalt-Köthen,
Royal Polish electoral court compo..poser of Saxony,
and Saint choir...master Thomas in L-Leipzig, at court.
At once!
At ... at court? At ... at once?
Immediately? - My good man ...
Our backsides are sore, due to the wretched state of your king's roads.
Hastily going to court is the last thing on our minds. - Why not drop in
to greet Emanuel?
Friedemann? - Let's go and kiss the King's arse.
Friedemann, enough! They say good things about young Frederick, too.
The next concert's in Sans Souci!
Gentlemen, the great Bach has arrived.
My name is Bach, Johann Sebastian Bach.
Excellent! Excellent!
Father!
Frieder!
Friedemann,
my eldest son.
Your Majesty.
"Majesty?" That's priceless! I am taken for the queen! - My sister,
Princess Amalia. Come, dear Bach.
A fortepiano! Barely invented and already built for me!
Piano and forte - soft and loud.
Try it! Is it not fantastic? The end of the harpsichord is nigh!
Your Majesty! What a pleasure and an honour!
Very nice tone! It is well regulated, precise.
I wish I had such an instrument.
Come, my dear Bach. What a pleasure to have you here!
A nice tone.
But the keyboard is bad for the hands.
Weakness in the upper notes ... One ought to ...
Aren't they wonderful? How I love these fortepianos!
I Love them! I love them all! I will have them all bought.
The keys do not obey the fingers.
This fortepiano is badly regulated. Even out of tune.
These instruments, Your Majesty, are not completed by far.
Their system has yet to be perfected.
To already purchase them in this condition ...
No reason to strut about.
And now, permit me to retire. The journey ...
Bach!
Wait!
We have something for you. Be seated.
My dearest Bach ...
This humble little melody ...
Give us, and of course them, the great pleasure ...
of improvising, here and now, a fugue in three parts.
Or ... better still ...
a fugue in six parts!
Is it permissible to ask, by whom ... - It is permissible, but not advisable.
I did not know you to be such a skilful composer.
A different tune had reached my ears ...
Your truly singular melody is worthy of consideration.
Pray take your time.
My time is not yours, Majesty.
At this hour the answer is: no.
Father!
It is the hour of four!
Hot milk, that ought to be possible! Even for a lackey!
I must know what plans Vienna and its whore have for getting
their farmers back from my Silesia. Intercept the Austrian correspondence.
Yes, merciful King, Lord and Father.
I, Frederick, Crown Prince of Prussia,
must be present at the execution of my lover.
Lieutenant Katte is to be beheaded at dawn.
Katte and I have not offended against honour, Father.
I do not cling to life.
I do not want to be king.
You are light as a feather, my dear Johanna, but I can sense you.
A breath of air on my neck ...
Forgive me, father.
Your breakfast ...
Look at that! A king-size thorn!
Are you a cobbler now?
And your bed ... Haven't you slept? - I will return to Leipzig.
But why?
It cannot be! You've just arrived! - Where on earth did I put my pipe?
I don't wish to offend you ...
I am surely mistaken ... but ...
I have been watching you. Are you not well? - Not well?
Nonsense! It is nothing! Nothing!
Perhaps a little fatigue.
Where are my sons, that I may say farewell? - Emanuel went to court
and Friedemann has followed him.
Emanuel will feel hurt if you leave this way. He's so proud that
you're to be the Godfather of his son.
Johanna, dear, I will not become the godfather of your dumpling, Adam.
But ... why? Why not?
I am going back. I'll feel better at home.
Something troubles you. You are unhappy.
No, it's nothing! Nobody's unhappy!
A wealthy godfather
should guide Adam through this life.
One who will teach him about good wine,
whether it tastes of cork,
and how to serve it correctly.
They'll drink my health together for a long time.
Now listen.
Just for you.
How beautiful!
As gentle as a caress ...
Father ... - This melody ...
It's as if I'd been waiting so long for it ...
Please, stay.
Maestro!
Maestro Bach!
I would so like to speak to you. - You flatter me, Highness. - May I?
Would you sign my exercise book?
My pupils' books are not so demanding. Your tutor Quantz is lucky.
Your Highness ...
My God!
You play with this injured finger? - It's nothing.
One of His Majesty's jokes.
I am expected.
Take your book. - Would Friedemann also sign my book?
Friedemann? But of course ...
Friedemann ...
Majesty...
Ah, my dear Quantz!
I've looked forward to seeing you again after all these years. - I am touched.
You've caught me at my secret pastime.
I thank you for yesterday evening.
One appreciates gifts more in old age, for perhaps one becomes a child again.
So this is how one produces a king!
But this one seems rather green to me, Quantz ...
Not so loud, Johann, not so loud.
Please don't! It’s the King's flute!
I'm afraid he doesn't like it if someone else plays it.
Our flute lesson, at once!
Excellent!
Clean up!
They still need carpenters in the army workshops, Professor Quantz.
Gentlemen ...
Dear Quantz ...
Your theme deserves an answer. It is wonderful ...
I will answer it.
To dare order father here and torment him so.
Let it rest!
The king gave old Bach an order and got egg on his face!
I know another who gives orders.
With what right do you name my son Adam and not Johann Sebastian like father?
Exactly because of the latter. To spare him being tormented like that one day.
Let us not fight, Frieder. I envy you. You know that. I envy your freedom.
What do you know of my freedom? - Calm down, not so loud, Frieder.
My freedom consists
of reinventing ...
every single day ... my life as a musician.
Forgive me. It was not my intention to interrupt your conversation.
I thought, Your Highness ... it wouldn’t matter if my brother ...
It seems your brother feels quite at home here.
Forgive him.
Monsieur Bach ...
I just found your "Trio d'Adieu" in my brother the King's untidy room.
I permitted myself to look at it.
It is strange. One imagines the instruments converse with one another.
They play their parts, like at court.
With one difference: they speak with wit.
If your freedom consists of reinventing yourself every day, even at the risk
of becoming uncouth,
then my freedom is to not hear you.
But Majesty ...
You can't do that!
What would his Majesty say? - Let him say it, Emanuel ...
What is that? - I'm too late, I know. - The King's fortepiano!
I'll be sent to the army fifes and drums if he finds his instrument here!
Don't worry, Papa Quantz, don't even think it's staying here.
It will be brought to my chambers. - To your chambers?
Do you hear that, Quantz?
That is music!
What you are playing is deadly boring. Unfashionable. How can one?
Dear little Quantz, how can you?
That is what I want to play. On this instrument!
And nothing else, ever!
The music of Bach’s son, Friedemann, is fashionable, but it has little depth.
You know him? You recognized him?
You know his music? And you say nothing? And you teach me minuets?
Heavenly ...Angelic ...
No one has yet dared to set such chords against one other.
What freedom!
What boldness!
Majesty ...
Please don't hold what I am about to tell you against me.
There are, unfortunately, certain things a princess of Prussia may not do.
To become infatuated with a musician, seductive as he may be,
is one of them.
Who speaks of infatuation, Papa Quantz?
It’s the music that counts. You know that!
Yes, I know that, Amalia.
I know that ...
Princess.
The nightmare has caught up with me.
I believed it was vanquished.
Always this voice ...
This terrible voice.
Stay.
Forgive me, father.
Punctuality is a kingly virtue!
Friedemann, I'm speaking to you!
Has the Crown Prince fallen from grace? - You seem pleased.
Perhaps it’s time to grow up. Your jealousy is a pain in the arse!
Friedemann, I beg of you! - Father, I'm sorry
that you had to witness this. - Presto, boys, presto!
Mr Emanuel Bach, the King's musician!
He has a steady income and takes the role of the preacher. A nice part!
And you? What's your part? It is easy to play the genius.
A touching genius, just as one imagines, booze and women.
Get married and have children.
Should I live like you?
Shiny pans on the wall, scrubbed floor, Clean and tidy, meals on time.
I can imagine you at it in bed, you and Johanna, clean and tidy and in tempo!
Leave Johanna alone!
This is not the time!
You could succeed father. - What's wrong? - Your music is better than mine.
Better than all of his children put together!
When I see you like this, I think I must have made a mistake somewhere!
Since when does music cause brothers to fight?
No, no, father. It's not music that makes us fight.
I'm sorry, but perhaps it is you, father.
You ... you always preferred Friedemann,
which hurts me.
But I can well understand it.
You hoped so much, too much, that he would be like you.
How moving!
I'm about to cry.
That’s the sad fate of the first-born. - We should go, we'll be late in church.
It’s time, Cain. It's time, Abel.
It was easier when you were dumplings.
There, there, little soldier,
it's not so bad.
You're just tired.
The dumpling, the suckling ...
Such a fight! The Bachs!
If only I had known how heavy a name it is to bear ...
I learned music from your works.
You are the greatest.
A God!
I am no God, Johanna.
I am only a ...
This is the invisible pole with which I hold my balance.
I walk a tightrope.
Always just about to fall.
Without a net.
Up there,
far, far, up there.
Well, dawdler?
Don't you want to take him with you?
Easy.
Forward march!
Majesty, I have come to suggest ... - Here, take this.
Easy.
Easy, Condé.
I'II show you my new thoroughbred. - Not so fast, Majesty ...
Not so ... - A present from the Russian Czarina.
He who survives the Czarina will be happy in Prussia. - I haven't time ...
Musically speaking, this animal is very interesting.
I beg your pardon?
These two humps are harmonious.
They rise and fall like a melody ...
A melody I have composed for Your Majesty.
Do you like the Czarina's gift?
Well then!
Are you steering? - Yes. With the feet. - Aha ...
Aren't we a bit fast? My stomach has trouble
in adjusting to the rhythm. - Were this animal on wheels,
we'd already be at the gates of Vienna.
I wanted to ask you if a concert would ... - Later, Bach!
I want to show you something. Enjoy my Sans Souci's surroundings.
Alexander the Great decided to be buried with his horse.
I'm not yet Alexander, but this will be my grave, and my dogs'. Amore, heel!
What are you waiting for to make this animal obey?
Yes, come here! That's my boy!
Nice work, eh?
How well I lie here.
When I get here, I'll be without sorrows.
Perhaps it would please you to have a concert in the garrison church?
But I see you are busy.
I will go home on foot. The walk will do me good.
Bach, wait!
So, father,
now listen to me.
This organ has a lot more to it
than just church harmonies, and blissful chords. You there!
Start this beast up!
I'm aware of your genius, Frieder.
I acknowledge it.
A nice organ for a royal concert.
I will use it to lure the King with some of my very own devilry.
Bravo!
Now we are among ourselves,
Would it please Your Majesty to play a few notes with me?
If Your Majesty would do me the honour.
I seem to recognize a variation of my theme.
How delightful!
I will expect you at luncheon tomorrow.
Your Majesty ...
Not to worry.
Again.
I will not suffer the destruction of an instrument!
It is the work of a master that one destroys!
It was my theme. And it was my dream
to play with Bach. You ruined my theme and he bedevilled it.
You're in this together!
And the flutes you make are out of tune! And too damn expensive!
If one clamps it under one's arm ... Heat and sweat are disagreeable to them.
A flute is not a marshal’s baton to be maltreated.
A flute deserves respect.
Your Majesty,
this canon is not so devilish. We can take it apart.
This Bach! I hate him!
Look at that!
A fugue.
Interesting! A fugue in six parts! - You stink of wine, Frieder.
That's possible.
And you, father?
Aren't you ruining your health meeting the challenge
from that measly provincial kinglet?
Hearken to him!
Friedemann Bach.
Eldest son of the Bachs.
Brilliant composer and musician, a full life ahead of him,
who can afford the luxury of roaming about all night
not writing a single note.
You deserve my making you immediately
copy, in extenso, the Brandenburg Concertos!
Stand up when I am speaking to you!
Forgive me, Frieder.
I am going mad.
My shoulders are no longer broad enough to bear you all.
Go to bed.
The fatigue, father ...
The fatigue ...
To our health,
my dumpling.
You can even eat the bird's heads! - Even in Versailles, Ortolans
are a delicacy. - Salt, pepper, nutmeg.
These delicious birds are killed by drowning in cognac!
To eat Ortolan is no meal, it is a ceremony! - Monsieur Bach!
Excuse my lateness, Majesty.
My dear Quantz, did you notice?
It seems that it is our guest, Mr Bach, who messed up his entrance today.
Monsieur de Maupertuis, is it true you thought of mixing phosphorus
into the dog food in Berlin? - Yes!
To make their excrement shine at night, thus one avoids stepping in it!
Ah, the dogs of Berlin! One could easily become murderous!
You say, Majesty, that Voltaire will soon visit us?
He'll be guest of honour at Sans Souci. I can't imagine a better tutor.
He will improve my French and correct my philosophical treatises.
And when we have squeezed him like a lemon,
we will throw away the peel.
Your Highness.
To what do I owe the immeasurable pleasure
of being here? - The joy of playing, of course.
Your finger!
So it’s true what they say:
Royalty has blue blood. - Oh, it's nothing ...
Interesting.
What’s tonight’s performance?
"Move to Sans Souci", a play in one act ...
The story of a princess who lives with her brother in a gloomy castle and ...
My compliments, Princess.
Look: Buxtehude, Monteverdi, Emanuel Bach ...
Frederick leaves them lying about! He has no respect. I collect them.
I love them. Quantz helps me.
Look at this.
I am most attached to it.
Your brother wrote me a dedication:
"Emanuel Bach ...
"... On the True Art of Mastering the Keyboard"
To play with the thumb. What an idea!
How could one have played without it?
I am only Friedemann Bach.
I have little to give you.
Would you like to play with me?
A garden of Eden is opening up in our Prussian wasteland.
We are even acclimatising the potato!
After such a magnificent meal ... 13 courses, not counting desert.
To eat more ... - And ... there!
Looks like a Pomeranian marrow ...
Feels like a Pomeranian marrow ... - And it is?
It is?
Excuse me ...
It tastes like ... - ... Watermelon!
Watermelon?
Keep the rest, dear Bach.
For your sons, perhaps.
Now tell me the truth, Bach. Was your trap at the concert set on purpose?
I regret having to put it thus, but you set the trap yourself.
Your melody would not let me go. I merely added a few complications.
The canon I proposed to you ...
was tricky.
It corresponds to my way of ruling over my music.
Excellent, expedient!
Fantastic!
Thank you.
Your music and my music ...
A musical present, as it were.
An offering ... A musical offering, so to speak.
A musical offering?
Excellent!
But which of us was offered up?
You can accuse me of everything,
but not of being a beneficiary!
Has Frederick forced a circus trick on me?
He's been going round my arena for the past week.
But, father, why compose day and night for him?
Do you think Frederick loves music?
Or loves the flute?
Of course not!
He loves only his flute. He doesn't distinguish between a flute,
a tin whistle, and a sceptre. - What does it matter to me? I'm here.
I feel good. The wine flows all by itself.
Damn it! Are you telling me how to behave in society?
Ah! I understand. Perhaps one is waiting to be summoned to court?
Perhaps one has already written a dedication?
"Most revered King,
I humbly
dedicate unto Your Majesty a piece,
the noblest part of which sprung from Your Majesty's own hand ..."
Frieder!
Well ...
Yes ...
I've consulted a physician.
Barring a miracle, I shall soon see no more.
No, not the black that you imagine.
Not the pitch black of the ink in our inkpots ...
No, rather ...
a surging, swimming mass, grey and dusty.
A never-ending winter's day.
And without music.
So when I summon up my fading strength to write,
then it is for myself.
That I may still enjoy ... my own music.
And ... be that as it may ...
A musician like me!
One can still operate an organ without having to see it, right?
Music!
But father!
Not now, I beg of you. Let us speak about
what is happening to you! - Kiss my arse!
The pope lives grandly on the earth,
And money, there never is a dearth.
He drinks the very finest wine,
A pope's life, o, t’would suit me fine!
The sultan’s wealth is beyond measure,
He lives in palaces of pleasure,
With many maidens dancing round,
That life would suit me to the ground!
As of today, torture is to be executed only in the presence of court persons,
and is not to be repeated the following day.
All in all, the torture should not last more than half an hour.
For this, an hourglass should be set up,
but so that the victim cannot see it.
Goltz.
Goltz!
The people must not be informed of this mitigation.
My horrors of torture concern nobody but myself.
Make yourself at ease.
It's almost three, I can't go on.
You will make yourself at ease.
You are the King. I excuse myself. For a minute, an hour, a night ...
You are me. I breathe in you ... - This game does Your Majesty no good.
You know that ...
You are Fritzchen ... Frederick ... You are 18 years old.
Majesty! - And I am Katte. - Forgive ... I mean, Lieutenant Katte.
Yes, Your Majesty?
Lieutenant Katte, have you prepared?
You want to flee, don't you, my Prince?
We stay together, I will stay with you.
You put everything at stake, Katte, if you flee with me.
What does that matter, Highness?
He will wipe up the ink!
I ...
I love you!
I love you, Katte!
Amore, my little Amore!
Guards present arms!
Bring your weapons!
Wake up!
Shoulder your arms!
Do you hear?
Guards, march!
Friedemann, take me with you!
We'll make music. We’ll play with four hands.
Halle has nothing to offer you. It is not Berlin.
An uncomfortable organ bench, an equally uncomfortable musician ...
Not at all amusing for a princess.
How did this dog get in here?
Friedemann, stay!
Amore?
Stumm, stay! Amore, stay!
While we worry about the fate of our dear Prussia
and the future of our entrusted Silesia,
she spreads her thighs like a whore! Behaves like a cat on heat!
And all for a minstrel! She is the sister of the King!
Even if this Friedemann is a Bach, he is still a good-for-nothing.
We are the King! We decide whose bed you will one day share!
We, and only We!
We have also been informed that you are packing your trunks
and are preparing to go to Sans Souci with us.
That is out of the question. You will stay here.
No woman will ever set foot in Sans Souci.
Go.
I demand only obedience.
You say ad nauseam that in your kingdom every man is master of his own fate ...
and his own arse. But that only counts for you!
And certain royal arse-kissers.
You aren't even capable of placing an heir between your wife’s thighs!
Where is Elizabeth-Christine? Anywhere but here!
I am legitimately in line for Prussia's throne.
I am not your marionette.
And as for the musical qualities of the minstrel Friedemann Bach,
I fear they are beyond your grasp. My respects, brother, sir.
Fortunately, there is life after the minuet.
Don't let her out of your sight, Goltz.
It was his mistress!
I have come to take my leave. Nothing holds me here any longer.
Holy water in the eyes, will make him clairvoyant.
Holy water in the hair, will ensure wisdom.
My father used to say that at every christening. Bach!
Say something.
Johann Sebastian, how do you feel?
I feel, Your Majesty, I feel! That is the main thing.
Do something! Is there no end to this packing?
Goltz, what more do you need to hasten these people along?
Perhaps Mr Bach should be assisted to
return to Leipzig as soon as possible? - Bach can recover here or anywhere.
Thank you, good man.
Better here than anywhere else. Not so, my dear Bach?
In my family, there's but one cure for this malady: Music. Morning,
noon and night.
You don't say ...
But I ask you, Bach, stay here.
Be my court composer.
I am moved, Majesty. Thank you. But ... - But?
I have spent my life writing music on other people's orders.
Now that has come to an end.
I will never write another forced note.
Neither for a religious service,
nor for the St. Thomas church, nor for a prince, nor a king,
whichever one it is.
I no longer want to be ...
squeezed like a lemon.
Naturally.
One thing ...
Just one thing still drives me: the joy,
the pleasure of creating something from almost nothing.
And finally ...
to be free.
To be free?
Allow me to resign with you. May I?
Bach, I have something to confess. - You have my ear, Your Majesty.
The theme, my theme which you composed on. Are you listening?
It came to me when I heard the cupping glasses ring together in a fever.
And if I were to tell you that the idea
of the canon set with traps came from a pickling jar, would we be quits?
I regret that my sons cannot see this.
I am here.
Forgive me, Your Majesty.
Frederick.
You would have been a wonderful son.
Even you.
To be a wonderful son,
it would’ve required a wonderful father. - Do not believe that, Majesty.
I thought I had been a model father.
And what am I to my sons?
A shadow.
A huge, vast, shadow.
If one could begin all over again,
I'd be a wine merchant.
But one can never begin again.
As long as I can remember, my father was shouting orders.
He told everyone I was a sissy, that I walked on tiptoe
and pulled idiotic faces.
I secretly played the flute to comfort myself.
He had fits of rage. He spat in my soup and forced me to eat it,
and to kiss his feet.
Wilhelmine, my older sister, and I, we loved each other.
He forced her into a marriage to separate her from me.
From then on, I was alone.
A hostile father, that is the worst thing there is.
But you, Frederick ... surely one day you will have children and ... - What?
Me, a father?
We grant Queen Elizabeth-Christine a court visit in Berlin once a month.
Producing an heir is out of the question. Some nephew will manage it.
I have a million Prussians to raise. Let them reproduce,
and the affairs of state will function.
It is late, Bach.
Forgive me if I bid you goodbye here.
Tomorrow I will leave this place and its ghosts forever.
Sans Souci awaits me with open arms. A new life will begin.
That aside, I wouldn’t be surprised if the fever were to return again.
Farewell, Bach.
Farewell.
Come, all is prepared.
Prepared? What is prepared?
Take me with you. I won't be a burden.
You know better than I: The price for flight is my head.
And, I am sorry to say, my head still inspires me.
I am not a knight in shining armour, I'm a musician, gambler, a seducer.
There is no room in me for a family.
There's only room for my music,
and not even that.
But my heart is big enough for two. I am seventeen. I want to live!
I am thirty. And I have already died.
If that is so, then I'll go alone.
Take me ...
... with you.
You will always be a mere woman.
Even if you try to ape men.
Out.
You are a coward!
A Prussian Princess is capital that will earn interest.
The market sets the price and not an organist from the provinces.
Friedemann Bach. Your music is valued more than mine. Congratulations.
Nevertheless, whether you like it or not,
your music is no match for your father’s and it will never be.
I envy you.
To inherit such musical know-how without having to raise a finger!
You just bend over and pull it out of the stores.
You can be doubly grateful to your father.
Without him you'd get the punishment for deserters: 300 lashes for three days.
One survives it. But somewhat ...
weakened.
I am indeed grateful to my noble father.
But above all, to Your Majesty.
Friedemann Bach ... Bold in music, reckless in love. Free.
A freedom we could have shared.
In music and ...
who knows.
You honour me, Your Majesty.
They say you play your flute after your battles, surrounded by corpses.
You will leave us.
Quickly and without delay.
I want to live!
Help me!
Adam can feel that you are leaving.
Father.
I had counted on your presence.
I don't know ... with him ...
How to make a musician of him. A Bach.
What should I tell you?
This nipper will grow all by himself.
Is that all, father? All you can do for him?
That is all. Yes.
Father, are you going to go like this?
Who knows when you will meet again?
My little Johanna.
Pick up your violin again. The family does not last forever.
But music ...
He will send them all away.
Everyone I would Love.
And my happiness?
And my life?
Must you always use this procedure? - May I dare remind
Your Majesty, with all due respect,
that only a week ago Your Majesty found
highly interesting musical qualities in this sudorific business ...
Stumm, I'm thirsty!
Goltz! Where is he?
Goltz!
What does he have here, Goltz?
The codebook, Your Majesty.
The Austrian battle plans have been decoded.
Then what is he waiting for? Must one teach him diplomacy?
Does he think he has made it, just because he plays the palace spy?
A pitiful career ...
Dismissed. Not a word.
We await music composed for us by old Bach. Has it been delivered?
Well then ... An invitation to Sans Souci.
Name?
Name? - My name? I have spelled it for you 20 times!
Should I set it to verse for you?
Arouet, François Marie. Monsieur de Voltaire!
Bach sent Frederick the "Musical Offering" a few weeks later.
The six-part fugue, and twelve fantasies on the King's theme.
Frederick never acknowledged their receipt.
An English charlatan lanced Bach's cataracts in Leipzig.
This attempt failed, leaving Bach blind. He died three years later.
Princess Amalia was never married off by her brother.
She composed and saved many Bach family works from destruction and oblivion.
Carl Philipp Emanuel left the court twenty years later.
None of his three children became musicians.
Wilhelm Friedemann became one of the first freelance musicians.
He lived for a time by selling his father's manuscripts.
Frederick threw himself into the murderous Seven-Year War.
He died forty years later, attended by only two servants.