Sanssouci — what makes it free of worries?

The Emperor’s melody — where is it performed joyfully ?

Sanssouci — what makes it free of worries?

Ancient Chinese said: Emperors can scarcely withstand the lure of beauty, thus were born countless beauties who brought kingdoms to ruin.

But if an emperor cannot relinquish his soul for art, then the world is bequeathed innumerable wonders to endure through the ages.

Since childhood, I had often heard of Emperor Huizong of Song, famed for his extraordinary artistic accomplishments and contributions. Yet Europe, too, was not without rulers enraptured by the arts. Frederick the Great, with his Sanssouci Palace, stands as a symbol of the ancient monarchs’ longing for art and philosophy.

King Frederick II of Prussia reigned from 1740 to 1786. In his youth, his interest in art and philosophy far surpassed that in politics and the military. Yet under the stern discipline of his father, Frederick William I, he was forced to suppress his fervor for the arts.

Even so, though endowed with a romantic soul for art, Frederick, upon ascending the throne at the age of twenty-eight, devoted himself to statecraft. Practicing enlightened absolutism, he not only secured the Austrian province of Silesia through military campaigns, expanded the economy, and enlarged the realm, but also proved his imperial stature in the grueling Seven Years’ War. He advanced judicial reform under the principle of ‘equality before the law,’ adopted a tolerant and open attitude toward religion and ethnicity, and gradually abolished serfdom. He also established the first system of universal education, making Prussia the first nation to provide schooling for all. Frederick thus became a pivotal figure in Prussia’s rise, transforming it into one of Europe’s great powers.

Yet even with his successes in politics and war and the recognition he gained on the international stage, Frederick the Great’s passion for the arts never waned. He produced numerous works in literature, philosophy, and music. He corresponded extensively with Voltaire, authored many writings in French, and in his treatise Anti-Machiavel he criticized Machiavelli, revealing his own mature views on politics.

Most renowned of all, however, is the palace at Potsdam in Germany — the Sanssouci Palace, or ‘Palace Without Worries.

Compared with other palaces, Sanssouci cannot rival the dazzling splendor of Versailles in France, nor the majestic grandeur of Madrid’s Royal Palace. Yet Sanssouci possesses a gentler grace — its Rococo elegance flowing with lightness, its pale yellow walls set against a soft turquoise dome, standing serenely upon a hillside in Potsdam. Within, one finds bedchambers, studies, and salons of all sizes, filled with Frederick the Great’s treasured paintings, instruments, and delicate furnishings.

Frederick himself was a musician of remarkable talent. He composed no fewer than two hundred and ten flute sonatas, four flute concertos, a symphony, and other works, the flute being his lifelong passion. Often, within the halls of Sanssouci, he performed his own music upon the instrument he loved most. Though we can no longer witness the monarch’s own performances, the renowned flautist Emmanuel Pahud has brought them to life again in his album The Flute King: Music from the Court of Frederick the Great, where he interprets Frederick’s Flute Concerto No. 3.

The music is of such charm and beauty that one can scarcely believe it was composed by the very ruler remembered as a military genius. At times the flute sings with crystalline clarity, at others it drifts into airy reverie, and at moments it dances with spirited joy — as though guiding us through a graceful promenade within the Palace Without Worries.

Born into an imperial household, Frederick the Great could not live entirely as he wished. Thus he made Sanssouci the sanctuary of his artistic soul — the dream left unfulfilled in his youth, and the gentlest refuge of his life.

We are not emperors, nor do we possess a fame that endures through the ages. Yet perhaps, each of us has a Sanssouci of our own.

After a long day’s labor, having the steaming meal on the table, shared with family and children — that homecoming is a return to one’s palace without worries. In the morning, silencing the alarm, breathing in the fragrance and richness of the first cup of coffee — that too is a moment without care. On weekends, turning off the phone, listening to music one loves — and how to ease the heart? A glass of red wine is answer enough.

The desire of an emperor — all men share it.

The music of an emperor — all men long for it.

As sovereign of a nation, even after performing a flute concerto, listening to birdsong and flowing waters, or gazing upon the glow of sunset skies, he must always return to the throne — to become once more the ruler he was destined to be, to fulfill the mission entrusted to him, and to bear the duties from which there is no escape.

Day after day, year upon year, perhaps it was beyond politics and war that Frederick the Great’s tender and sensitive artistic soul found its voice — woven into the enchanting strains of his flute. The passion of a king for art now rests, preserved within the idyllic sanctuary of Sanssouci, a paradise apart from the world.

In 1786, at the age of seventy-four, Frederick the Great passed away at Sanssouci. To him, it was his final resting place, the haven he had longed for all his life.

May Sanssouci, forever, be without worries.