Original subtitles

Open up the sound: like a mouth...

Your fingers sound like they are stuck!

I cannot follow You. - You do not listen.

do not hurry!

Retome marking the first times.

From the beginning.

Stop! The master made a sign.

The master wishes to speak.

Speak, master...

All notes must finish...

... like dying.

ALL THE MORNINGS OF THE WORLD

"To die"... their arches are very strong...

Remember that the arches..

... people infinitely loved ...

... that they move away into the shades. Suddenly...

... without us knowing, we lose sight of them...

... and our eyes filled with tears...

You're playing in a very singsong way!

music is like hunt.

To accelerate suddenly, appearing before the red deer we intend to kill.

To articulate with firmness when we devoured it.

To retain the moment before the pleasure.

the aim of music are to transport the soul...

... to lose one in one's the senses!

Emotion!

the aim is the sweetness.

No!

Noooo!

The shades...

Bring me!

Bring me!

to the shades...

What do you wish, Master?

A cello! Bring me a cello!

the master is going to play!

A cello for Monsieur Marais!

D�me hers! D�jeme!

Quick, all of you leave!

Quick!

No, Brunet. Let them stay!

I want all of you to stay.

Marin Marais is going to give a lecture.

So that you may feel!

Someone close the shutters!

Austerity!

It was only austerity and wrath.

The deaf is like a fish.

I am an imposter...

No, master!

.. and I am not worth anything.

No...

I sought nothing...

... and I gathered nothing...

... the sweet life...

... money...

... and shame...

He, was music...

observed the world with that great light...

... that illuminates the dying.

I am not what he'd hoped of me ...

I had a master...

.. and the shadows have taken him.

He was called Monsieur Sainte Colombe.

In the spring of 1660...

... a certain Monsieur Sainte Colombe...

... was next to the bed of a friend, the dying Vauquelin...

.. who had expressed his desire to die...

... with music and a little wine of Puisey.

That same spring afternoon...

... Madame Sainte Colombe died.

He was unconsolable in the wake of his wife's death. He loved her.

In that occasion composed the "Tomb of the Moans".

My master taught the cello then, at that time...

... woke up great enthusiasm.

Era a recognized teacher.

Era jansenista.

Teni'a two daughters.

Monsieur De Bures were waiting for them!

Of Bures were of the society that frequented Port-Royal.

To the children taught the letters to them, the numbers...

... history santa and the principles of the Latin.

same Sainte Colombe had inculcado to them...

... the keys and the notes.

the memory of its wife did not leave him:...

its figure were permanently before its eyes...

... its voice to him continued whispering the ear.

Little by little, closed its door.

Vendio' its horse and were locked in in music.

Toinette, return!

Locked up in its cabin, practiced up to 15 hours to the day.

He devised another way to maintain the viola...

... between the knees.

Also added one seventh cord to him to the instrument...

... to give him one more to a more serious dimension and a more melancholic air.

Perfecciono' the technique of the arc, lightening the weight of the hand...

.. pressing with the forefingers and means on the cords...

... thing that did with amazing virtuosity.

said of him that it could imitate all the flexions of the voice.

From the sigh of a young one to the sob of a old one.

Of the shout military of Enrique of Navarre...

... to the dulzura of the breath of a sleepy boy.

He feared that their daughters well were not instructed...

... by a man who was single.

Era severe with them, but did not raise them the hand.

locked up Them in the cellar and there it forgot them.

Madeleine, to each wrath of its father, were like a ship...

... that sinks and sink of unexpected.

Their joys not always was comprehensible.

Were full of difficulties.

Where are breast '?

Now has to be good and workers.

Echo of less to your mother. It was my joy.

Already nor I hear myself speak.

Your mother knew to speak...

... and knew to laugh.

I do not find to please in talking.

Neither in the company of people, nor of books.

But them master to two...

... and with that are sufficient.

Its father saw them less and less.

Permaneci'a in the cabin, seated in its stool.

Joys or moans was born sometimes of their fingers.

When they obsessed to him, opened its notebook of red music...

... and wrote down not to think them quickly more.

When Madeleine had stature to learn the viola...

... I teach the positions to him, agreed and arpegios.

I also.

No, I do not want.

Neither the food deprivations nor the confinements...

... could diminish the spite of Toinette...

... being so small to touch the viola.

No, I do not want.

Certain morning, before the dawn, Sainte Colombe rose.

Camino' until the river.

were following the Seine until Dauphine.

Paso' all the day with Monsieur Pardoux.

For Passovers, in the garden...

... Toinette discovered a strange bell...

... surrounded like a ghost.

During several years lived peacefully and for music.

Llego' the day in which, once to the month...

... Madeleine had to be applied compresas because of the menstruation.

Toinette left its small viola.

the concerts for three violas of Sainte Colombe...

... was famous.

the Srs. Caignet and Chambonnieres praised the musical meetings

Was the delight of the noble.

East musician are inaudito.

Toca better than I.

Certain one... touch better than You.

Toca better than the violinista of the king.

You Monsieur, live in the ruin and silence.

we envied this wild life to Him.

Envidiamos the green forests that surround to him.

You are a teacher in the art of the viola...

... and I have received order to invite it to appear in the cut.

Its Majesty showed the desire of oir it.

In case of being satisfied...

... would welcome it between its musicians of camera.

In that case, I will have the honor to be to its side.

Gentleman...

... I have trusted my life to these lost wood an orchard.

To...

... the sounds of the seven cords of my viola. To... my two daughters.

My friends is the memories.

My cut is: the willows, the water that runs, the elder flowers.

D�gale to Its Majesty who a savage does not fit in a palace.

You have not understood the request!

Pertenezco to the camera of the king.

desires of Their Majesty is an order.

I am so wild that I believe that only I belong myself to same me.

Its Majesty have been too generous when putting its eyes in me.

Volvere '!

Its Majesty...

... the cut, the musicians of Its Majesty we will return.

Service of the King!

Service of the King!

the misfortune of being obeyed did not increase the impatience of the king...

... to see the musician before himself.

and sent again to its emissaries to convince it.

You hide your name between ducks, hens and fish.

You hide the talent that gave Our Gentleman him...

... in the middle of the dust and proud misery.

Their Majesty and the cut knows their reputation...

... already are hour to deshechar its rustic ways...

... and to accept its favors...

... to become a wig curly.

Its pechera are old-fashioned...

I am old-fashioned!

I thank for Its Majesty to Him.

Prefiero the light of the twilight in my hands...

... that the gold that offers to me.

Prefiero my coarse clothes to its wigs.

Prefiero my hens to the violins of the king...

... and my pigs to You.

Gentleman!

V�yanse!

and they do not speak to me more! He is crazy!

are going away to rot in the mud...

... in the horror of the suburb,

... like a plum in its orchard.

Your palace are smaller than a cabin...

... and your public do not add a person.

To the King it liked such answer.

Pidio' that left the musician...

... and ordered to its cortesanos...

... which they did not return to his concerts...

... because my masterful one was a recalcitrant one and had been...

... part of those Mr. of Port Royal...

... before it dispersed them.

Pasaron the years.

Sainte Colombe gave only a concert by season.

Every time wrote down less new compositions...

... in its red notebook.

did not want to print them nor to put under them...

... to the opinion of the public.

Deci'a that they were fruit of improvisations of the moment...

... and only that moment served to him as excuse.

So�aba about its woman, her way to make the things...

... its accurate advice, their hips...

... with its belly, that had given two daughters him who already were women.

a day dreamed that it entered the dark water and there it remained.

had resigned to all the things that it loved in this earth.

When waking up, remembered the "Tomb of the Moans"...

... that composed when its wife I leave it '...

... to go to meet with the death...

... and felt much thirst.

Then were put to touch the "Tomb of the Moans"

did not need to go to the book.

Their fingers found the positions in the instrument...

This visit were not the unique one.

After thinking that he was crazy, my teacher considered that...

... of being madness, were a happy madness...

... and of being truth, were a miracle.

the love of its woman were still more great who his...

because it returned next to him and he could not give back the visit to him.

asked to Him a friend of the union of painters...

... that represented the writing-desk next to which its woman...

... had appeared.

Escondio' the picture and put it in its room.

With anybody spoke of those visits.

Sintio' that its wrath moved away.

In its interior...

... felt that something had culminated.

Then, a boy of 17 years...

... red one like the crest of a rooster, came to strike its door.

Era I.

My name are Marin Marais.

My father are shoemaker.

To the 6 years, due to my voice, between '...

... in escolan�a of the church that is next to the castle of the Louvre.

During 9 years I dressed sobrepelliz and red dress...

... and I sang.

During 9 years I sang in escolan�a real...

in the offices, the services in the masses and the eves.

But grew hairs to me in the legs and cheeks...

... my voice abuse ',...

... threw me to the street as it stipulates the contract.

For the last time I pushed the great golden door.

Eche' to run by the street towards the sandy ground...

... were crying.

the Seine was covered by a bright light.

My companions still conserved their voice...

... and had remained.

I, felt single...

... with my heavy sex hanging between the thighs.

Segui' by the border, way of the house of my father.

In zapater�a I raised to lock in itself in my room...

.. above of the factory.

Like always...

... my father did not stop to strike or to scrape.

the hammer blows took the heart to me and they disgusted to me.

disgusted the rust scent to Me of leathers macerating itself...

... the stool that hissed, the shouts of my father...

... everything to me became unbearable. And I said myself: I go away of house.

I will take revenge myself of this voice that left to me.

I will be a famous violinista.

Estudie' almost a year with Monsieur Cagnet.

Soon entrusted Monsieur Maugars.

He were the one who asked to me if I heard speak of his seventh cord.

made Me work during 6 months and it judged to me so good...

... that it sent to see it to me with this letter.

That touches! He is everything. That it improvises on the "Folias".

Monsieur he could improvise on the "Folias of Spain"?

Yes.

I do not believe that it can admit it like student.

D�game so that '!

You make music, but he is not musical.

Perhaps Monsieur remember something that has composed!

Oh, are father well!

Are very well.

You that you say?

Vuelva within a month.

Then I will say to him if I can count it between my students.

When I arrived for my first lesson, Madeleine...

... opened the inner door to me.

open Teni'a the decollete.

were going to Me to bathe; I am going to take shelter the hair.

That are the cabin where it touches my father.

Sir have you practiced much?

Conoce the position the body, interpret with feeling?,...

... its left hand jump like a squirrel...

... and slide as eel on the cords.

Their floreos is ingenious and charming.

But I did not hear music.

You will be able to attend which dances, or to accompany...

... to the actors in the scene.

Everything what writes...

... are going to please. It will not make cry to anybody...

... are going away to gain the life. It will live surrounded by music...

... but You will not be musical.

Tiene heart to feel?

Tiene devise as why they serve the sounds, when...

... no longer are to dance nor to cheer the ears of the king?

Nevertheless, its cracked voice affected to me.

It acceptance by its pain...

... not by its art.

Pasaron the months.

a day of much cold, we could not work much in the cabin.

Teni'amos the entumecidos fingers and we looked for shelter in the kitchen.

This wine warm up the chest and the lungs to me.

Mire, Gentleman...

Conoce Baugin painter?

no Sir, nor to no other.

Hace a time I ordered a fabric to him.

Comprende?

are the corner of the writing-desk...

... that is in my room of music. It includes/understands?

Yes, I include/understand.

Vamos to visit to him.

Escuche...

... how the Aryan stands out.

Everything what the death will take already are in the anything.

Is the pleasures of the world that say good bye to us when retiring.

Escuche the sound that gives back the brush of Baugin.

You learned the technique of the arc.

What is mascullando?

Comparaba the arc of my viola with its brush.

is not more than words.

To me I like gold.

the dead things counts.

Monsieur the secret of our art, are the surprise.

Sir, You believe in serious who the gold stinks out?

Sir, You learned you emphasize of the floreos.

Also were a chromatic scale.

No.

Will be that true music is bound to silence?

No.

Already are closed night. I am cold in the feet. Good bye.

Now are to wake up an emotion in our ears.

Are furious because I touched yesterday before the king, in the chapel.

Mire, one of the guards I warn to me '...

... that the viola set fire.

Toque!

could give an explanation Me.

What is an instrument? It is not music.

With this can buy a circus horse...

... to do piruetas the king in front of.

Oye the sobs that the pain takes my daughter?

Is more near music than their scales!

V�yase of here for always!

You are a good juggler.

the plates flies on their head and...

... You. it does not lose the balance. But she is a musical poor man!

Tendri'a to touch in Versailles,

... would throw currencies there to him to drink.

I will teach everything to You what my father taught to me.

Its father... are a bad man.

Volvi'.

Subimos the quarter of Madeleine secretly of the teacher.

She offered everything to me what had.

Together, we hid under the cabin to listen...

... the virtuosities of the teacher...

... and to learn its agreed favourite ones.

When I turned 20 years, in the summer of 1676...

... I announced to Madeleine that...

... entered the cut like "musician of the King".

a day exploded a storm when we were hidden.

No, father!

I love to him, father!

the storm clouds soon dissipated...

... and we removed the hammocks to the garden.

I do not want to see it more. It is the last time!

will not see more me.

Quiere to marry my daughter?

Not yet I can give my word.

Toinette went when luthier and will return late.

I do not know if it would give my daughter.

Without a doubt found a position advisable.

the compositions that it publishes is capable...

... and, the skills that add to them, rob me me.

Little matter.

Is only printed black or white notes in a paper...

But are another thing...

Hay something more...

Are the enthusiastic life that I live.

You live an enthusiastic life?

Hace time that I want to do a question to him.

Why do not publish what composes?

Why do not publish what composes?

Children mine, I never composed nothing.

For Passovers, Monsieur de Port Royal...

... sent to my teacher a float to him so that...

... came to touch, in darknesses, the office in which they are extinguished...

... one by one, the wax candles that represent the name of God.

Then, he could not let think about its wife...

and in the pain that felt by not to have attended its death.

Vivi'a a love that with anything diminished.

seemed to Him that it was the same love.

All the nights was the same night.

All the colds was the same cold.

Are better than we return.

I would like to be able to offer peach jam to him!

But I cannot

I cannot.

I do not know how to say to him.

has spent 12 years and our sheets still are lukewarm.

I went less and less.

Madeleine trusted everything to me.

Under oath, confessed to me that his father had composed...

... melod�as more beautiful of the world.

did not leave anybody heard them.

the "Boat of Charon", "the Tomb of the Moans"... "The Weeping".

Madeleine, our scales, our arpegios.

Yes, father.

and I, what I seem to you?

Quieres a broth?

What beautiful was the chapel...!

take hold It '!

No longer I have left nothing for you. I go away.

I leave You, because I have known other girls.

the life are as beautiful as ferocious.

you do not speak more, vetoes!

Madeleine went away debilitating and fell in bed. She was pregnant.

Tuvo a boy who was born dead.

How are possible that it comes here after dead?

Where are its boat? Where my tears? Are not You a dream?

Chance I am crazy?

are not worried, love mine.

Our boat lie at heart of the pool.

the other world are not watertight than a boat.

Sufro by not being able to touch it.

are nothing no to touch, only air.

Cree perhaps that is not taken place with being only air?

and sometimes, the air bring music to us.

and sometimes, the light approach only appearances.

Madeleine became ill seriously.

Toinette notified to me of its sister secretly.

said to Me that his father did them according to his instructions.

I leave '...

... to go.

Paso' the time and I lost of Vista to Sainte Colombe.

Toinette married with the son of Pardoux...

... my luthier...

... of that had five children.

To the death of Caignet...

... named Ordinary me of the Camera of the King.

I married with Catherine D'Amicourt.

When Lully put to direct its orchestras to me...

I returned to the subject "the So�adora" that had composed for Madeleine.

Sainte Colombe arrived until the bed of its daughter...

... but did not find anything to say to him.

Father.

Could grant a desire to me?

I would like that she touches...

... "La So�adora "that Mar�n composed for me.

My teacher requested to him to Toinette...

... that went to look for to me Versailles.

ordered to Me that it go to visit its dying daughter.

No.

My father will not be.

are not going it to recognize. One falls when it walks.

My father give him to eat in the mouth.

At all costs want to give peach jam him.

I see magnificent tape plenty It, Mr..

and fat person.

I am thankful to Him that it came from Versailles.

I would like to oir to touch that melod�a to him that composed for my '...

... and that commanded to publish.

talk about "the So�adora"?

Yes.

and You know why.

Yes.

the viola are always...?

the viola are always.

Their cheeks is sunk, their eyes also.

Their hands is very skinny.

Are a very delicate observation of its part.

Its voice are lower than before.

hers are higher.

How can be that it does not have pain?

have remained so thin...!

nonmemory...

nonmemory no recent pain.

keep resentment to Me?

Yes, Marin.

hate to Me reason why I did?

My hatred are not only for You.

Also I hate same me to me.

By to have let to me dry, its memory first...

... and of sadness later.

Only I am a pile of bones.

Never were very fat.

When my hands crossed their thighs...

... my fingers reached to join itself.

What flight has their words!

Pensar that it wanted to be his wife!

the love that you had to me were thinner...

... that the edge of my shirt.

Mientes.

Toca, please...

... touch.

Prefiero that I touch.

slower. Slowly...

He did not want to be shoemaker...

He did not want to be shoemaker...

All the mornings of the world does not return.

did not not only speak more during six months...

... but that did not touch its viola either:...

... that misfortune touched to him for the first time.

When I knew of the aim of Madeleine...

... every night woke up to me distressed.

Incessantly remembered melod�as that had trusted to me privily.

"infier to us", "the Boat of Charon",...

... "El Weeping ", "the Tomb of the Moans".

did not support that the works of my teacher...

... was lost with their death.

did not want to live without oir them once again.

I wanted those works.

With rain or snow, left Versailles and arrived until Bieve.

My feet walked by well-known steps.

During three years, every night I said myself:...

"Chance tonight will touch those melod�as"

But did not touch them.

Was long silencios in which it was spoken to itself.

o�a to dust the viola or the table.

Where are its boat? Where my tears?

Finally in 1689, the night of veintitresavo day...

the cold one were intense, the wind pricked in the eyes and ears.

were no a cloud. I will remember it while it lives.

I said myself:...

the "night are pure, the air transparente,...�

"... the coldest and more eternal sky, the Full Moon."

Siento to crujir the helmets of my horse. Perhaps this one is the night!

Teni'a you cold the rumps. My sex was small and ice cream.

To offer peach jam to him...

I go to the old shades.

If there were at least, somebody alive one that appreciated music!

We could speak!

and could die to me.

Who sighs at night in silence?

a man who flees from the palaces and looks for music.

What looks for in music, Sir?

Busco the moans and the weeping.

Si�ntese.

I can request a last lesson to him?

Can try one first lesson?

Quiero to speak.

music are for saying what the word cannot.

Are why she is not absolutely human.

Already discovered that it is not done for the king?

Descubri' that it was done for God.

Then, were mistaken. God speaks.

For the ear?

What it is not possible to be said, are not for the ear, Sir..

By money?

the glory?

silence?

silence are the opposed thing of the language.

the rival musicians?

the love?

No.

the loss of the love?

No.

the abandonment?

Not and no.

By a rolled wafer given to the hair net?

Either. What is a rolled wafer?

Something that is seen. It tastes. One eats. He is not nothing.

I do not know. Sir...

... I do not know more.

To deads offer a glass to them...

Also are consumed...

a drinking trough for which they do not have language.

For the astonishment of the children.

to smooth the hammer blows of the shoemakers.

For the state that precedes to the childhood.

When we did not have breath nor light.

Hace a moment heard to me sigh.

Soon I am going to die... and my art with me.

Only my gansos and my hens will be strange to me.

I will trust a pair to Him of melod�as...

... able to wake up to deads.

Vamos!

need to Us a drink.

Tenemos to look for the viola of my late daughter.

I will make Him listen to "the Tomb of the Moans"

Never, between my students, I found some with ear to listen to it.

You are going to me to accompany.

Thus, of "the Tomb of the Moans"...

... we touched "the Weeping".

I am proud to have taught it to you.

Could you interpret the melody...

... so that it is like my daughter?