Pianowerken van Erik Satie gespeeld door Aldo Ciccolini

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Esotérik Satie (thus called by his friend the writer Alphonse Allais) re-styled himself a couple of times during his life. In the last decades of the nineteenth century he was involved with religion in a big way. What started with the a Rosicrucian sect was followed by the founding of his own Church of Art of Jesus the Conductor, holding congregations in his own house. He was the only member, and walked the street dressed as a priest.

Around 1895 he found this didn’t inspire him anymore, and he invented a new persona for himself. He got into a bit of money, and bought himself seven sets of velvet suits. It didn’t lead him to new artistic directions. He moved out of his apartment near Montmartre in Paris to a small suburb south of the city. From 1898 Parisian people were used to seeing him walk from his home to work in the bars in Montmartre. He walked in his bowler hat and with an umbrella, as his most famous persona.

Searching for more curiosity about the subject, I found something I just have to share.

I rise at 7:18; am inspired from 10:23 to 11:47. I lunch at 12:11 and leave the table at 12:14. A healthy ride on horse-back round my domain follows from 1:19 pm to 2:53 pm. Another bout of inspiration from 3:12 to 4:07 pm. From 4:27 to 6:47 pm various occupations (fencing, reflection, immobility, visits, contemplation, dexterity, natation, etc.)
Dinner is served at 7:16 and finished at 7:20 pm. From 8:09 to 9:59 pm symphonic readings (out loud). I go to bed regularly at 10:37 pm. Once a week, I wake up with a start at 3:19 (Tuesdays).”
“I breathe with care (a little at a time). I very rarely dance. When walking, I clasp my sides, and look steadily behind me.
My expression is very serious; when I laugh it is unintentional, and I always apologize most affably.
I sleep with only one eye closed, very profoundly. My bed is round, with a hole to put my head through. Once every hour a servant takes my temperature and gives me another.
I have subscribed for some time to a fashion magazine. I wear a white cap, white stockings, and a white waistcoat.
My doctor has always told me to smoke. Part of his advice runs: ‘Smoke away, dear chap; if you don’t someone else will.’

Excerpts from Memoirs of an Amnesiac

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