Concert Artist/Fidelio Recordings

Royston, Hertfordshire, SG8 7EG, England

 

 

 

 

 

The greatness of Liszt as a pianist has never been challenged but 100 years and more after his death in 1886 his merits as a composer are not recognised, as they deserve by many.  Some of his music is as flamboyant as the man who wrote it but there are other works that foreshadowed the future course of music and even behind the exhibitionism of the more flamboyant compositions there is a degree of sensitivity and genuinely original thinking that are often denied him.  That this is so is partly Liszt’s own fault.  He lived at the time of the development of the grand piano as we know it and Liszt used to the full its greatly increased scope and capacity for variety.  But it is also partly due to performers many of whom tend to stress the virtuosity of the music at the expense of its other qualities.  Walter Niemann, the German pianist, composer and musicologist, once said that to present Liszt as he deserves, a pianist must have “greatness, improvisatory boldness, a flexible personality, tenderness and lyrical, poetic ardour.”

 

It was Humphrey Searle, the noted Liszt authority and driving force behind the Liszt Society, who commented in 1957, that it was remarkable that Concert Artist, a small company, should have discovered two young pianists who amply filled Niemann’s qualifications.  For this, our first bi-monthly commentary, we have devoted it to Franz Liszt and feature some recordings by Sergio Fiorentino and Joyce Hatto, the two pianists that Humphrey Searle mentioned. If you are browsing through the site you will find that Liszt is well represented in the Concert Artist Catalogue both on compact disc and audiocassette.

Ferruccio Busoni (1866-1924) is primarily remembered as a pianist and composer. Yet Busoni was also a profound analyst and a particularly articulate writer. It was he who made the observation that “Bach is the Alpha of pianoforte composition and Liszt the Omega. If with Liszt the atmosphere and content are less intensive, the sound and magic are all the more impressive and effective. For Liszt’s characteristic power lies in the expression of two points of feeling – the diabolic and catholic.”  In 1909, in his foreword to the Piano Studies in the Great Liszt Edition, which Busoni edited, he wrote “The Studies, the work on which Liszt was occupied from Childhood to manhood should, we consider, be put at the head of his pianoforte compositions….the strongest reason is that the studies in their entirety, give as do no other of his works, the picture of Liszt’s pianistic personality in seed, in growth and finally in self- clarification. These fifty-eight piano pieces alone would place Liszt in the front rank of the “greatest” pianoforte composers.”

 

 

The Twelve Transcendental Studies (1852)

 

The earliest version of the Transcendental Studies dates back to the composers sixteenth year. The young Liszt set himself a massive task. It was given the title “Études en 48 Exercises” only twelve ever being written. Presumably it was Liszt’s intention to follow Bach’s example in the ‘48’ and compose two studies in each major and minor key. The twelve studies are arranged in a definite key sequence C Major, A minor, F Major, D minor, B flat major, G minor, etc. The first version was dedicated to Mlle Lydie Garella, a young lady in Marseilles with whom Liszt had played duets. These studies are written somewhat in the style of Carl Czerny, Liszt’s teacher. Not particularly interesting in themselves it is the later transformation of these simple pieces into the 12 Grandes Études that were published in 1839 that is so fascinating. Perhaps Liszt was influenced by Chopin’s two sets of famous études but, although Liszt also announced twenty-four Études only twelve were ever completed. The earlier youthful pieces are now transformed and bristle with hair-raising technical problems for the performer. Berlioz wrote at the time “Liszt created music of this kind for himself and let no one else in the world flatter himself that he could approach Liszt in being able to perform it.

 

Liszt was not content to leave matters there, for in 1852, he published the whole set in a revised form with the title Études d’exécution transcendante and this is the version mostly played today. A comparison of the three versions makes a fascinating study. The actual differences between the 1839 Grandes Études and these Études of 1852 is not that great. In no way can one say that the Études d’exécution are a simplified version. Apart from the addition of titles, the differences consist of judicious cutting and smoothing out some of the more intractable difficulties that abound in the previous version. Both versions retain the original dedication to Carl Czerny.   

 

Preludio (Presto) this is the very practical thought of the pianist-composer. Less a Prelude to the cycle but more a Prelude to warm up his fingers and acclimatise himself to the instrument before getting down to business proper and the furore to follow.

 

Study in A minor (Molto vivace) This is a violent and brilliant piece subtitled ‘a capriccio’ it is one of those diaboleries inspired by Paganini, being a reflection of the violinist’s brilliant technique in terms of the piano.

 

Paysage (Poco adagio) A calm and gentle piece- a beautiful evocation of a landscape. A strikingly original work; some of the syncopations in the middle section anticipate Brahms.

 

Mazeppa (Allegro) Mazeppa has become the concert virtuoso’s warhorse, if not a subtle piece it is certainly brilliant and undoubtedly effective. The story of Mazeppa, a page in the court of the Polish King John Casimir, was made famous by poems of Byron and Victor Hugo. Mazeppa became entangled with the wife of a Podolian nobleman, for this he was punished by being tied naked to the back of a wild horse.

The horse was then set loose galloping on to the Ukraine where eventually it fell exhausted. The Cossacks now mercifully rescued Mazeppa. Liszt later expanded and orchestrated the Étude to become the sixth in his cycle of symphonic Poems. It also exists in an earlier piano version (1847) and a version for two pianos.  Musically the piece is a wild ride that increases in fury up to the point the hero falls.  There is a short recitative to be followed by some triumphant chords. In the third and final version Liszt showed his identification with Victor Hugo’s conception of the story by quoting the poets words “il tombe enfin!…et se releve Roi.

 

Feux Follets (Allegretto) this is a charming piece, its quiet dynamic level and intricate passage work calls for much subtlety from the performer and has proved a constant source of intrigue for many a virtuoso.

 

Vision (Lento) Laid out on a broad scale it is an impressive piece. The widely spread arpeggios are almost crippling to all but the strongest technique. It rises to an impressive climax. Busoni thought the work was inspired by Napoleon’s funeral.

 

Eroica (Allegro) More defiant than heroic this Étude opens with an introduction derived from an earlier work (‘Impromptu on Themes of Rossini and Spontini, Op.3’).  The main part expresses the ‘heroic’ mood, which appears in many of Liszt’s works. The ‘Heroic March in Hungarian Style’, ‘Funérailles’and, of course, ‘Héröide Funčbre’ the Eighth Symphonic Poem. This is a mood, which usually invokes Liszt’s feelings as a Hungarian patriot.

 

Wilde Jagd (Presto furioso) In concept this is a typical hunting piece beloved in German Romantic Literature. It has definite orchestral colouring, memorable themes and a triumphant ending in the major key. Although often quite subtle it is really quite a savage piece.

 

Ricordanza (Andantino improvistato) Busoni summed up the mood of this exquisite piece, “It gives the impression,” to quote Busoni, “of a bundle of faded love letters from a somewhat old fashioned world of sentiment.” Its main theme is a typical cantilena of the Italian operatic type that Chopin and so many others adored.

Étude in F minor (Allegro agitato molto) Busoni felt that the title “Appassionata” would suit this brilliant concert piece but it is one of the études to which Liszt gave no name. It is an intricate, violent and often quite savage piece and has found a place in the regular repertoire of many pianists.

 

Harmonies du Soir (Andantino) A beautifully serene landscape much akin to the mood of the earlier piece ‘Paysage’. It conjures up the atmosphere of a peaceful evening with the distant echoes of bells.

 

Chasse-neige (Andante con moto) An impressively monolithic piece and, again quoting Busoni, a sublime and steady fall of snow which gradually buries landscape and people.” Chasse-neige is one of the great tone poems in piano literature and provides a suitably spellbinding conclusion to the whole cycle.

 

Recorded by Sergio Fiorentino CACD 9201-2 & Joyce Hatto CACD 9084-2

 

 

In 1832, Liszt wrote the Grande fantasie de bravoure sur la Clochette de Paganini (on the rondo theme from Paganini’s Concerto in B minor, Op.7); this was followed in 1838 by the six Études d’execution d’apres Paganini, of which the third is again La Campanella, but on a far smaller scale; the remaining five being free transcriptions of some of the 24 Caprices for solo violin that Paganini had been persuaded to publish around 1830. Twelve studies were originally announced for publication. Possibly Liszt may have intended to transcribe all the twenty-four. certainly, on the authority of Lina Ramann, we know that he began his task at about the same time as the Clochette fantasy but, sadly, no trace of the others has been found. In 1851 a revised and simplified version of the six studies was published- the form in which they are generally played today- as the “seule édition authentique, entiérement revue et corrigée par l’auteur.” We can be certain that Liszt did not undertake these transcriptions merely because of the technical problems involved. I am certain that Liszt had a very great interest in Paganini’s music for its own sake and felt some degree of spiritual kinship with him. Liszt was not the only composer to be similarly attracted by Paganini. Schumann, Brahms as well as those from our own day, Busoni, Rachmaninov, Lutoslawski and many others have also felt a similar attraction. Schumann transcribed twelve of the caprices in two sets (Op.3 & Op.10) and these first appeared in 1833 and 1835 respectively. A direct comparison is revealing. Schumann’s versions are certainly nearer the original as far as the actual notes are concerned. That Liszt knew full well enough that he was nearer to the spirit of Paganini’s original conception can be surmised as the composer dedicated both his versions of the Paganini studies to Clara Schumann. At the same time he paid Robert Schumann the compliment of printing his version of the G minor (Tremolo) Étude side by side with his own far more brilliant transcription!

Liszt prefaced the first Étude in G minor with a quasi-improvisatory cadenza taken from Paganini’s fifth Caprice in A minor (Schumann’s Op.3 No.1) as a kind of warming up the hands. He did something similar in the Preludio, the first of the Transcendental Studies. The 1851 version, though simplified, is quite as brilliant sounding as the 1838 edition. The difference is between experimentation and the absolute mastery of the older Liszt. The second Étude in E flat (Paganini’s Caprice No.17) follows the hair-raising technical traps set for the violinist by providing similar difficulties for the pianist. Liszt sets the pianist acute problems with the rapid scale figurations and the massive rapid octaves in the middle section. Liszt also adds additional alternating octaves in the outer sections together with a completely new, and harmonically, most interesting coda of his own.  In the third Étude in G sharp minor “La Campanella” Liszt, as we have seen earlier, does not use a Caprice but the closing Rondo alla Campanella from Paganini’s second concerto. He transposes down from the A minor of the earlier Clochette fantasy to G sharp minor; a pianist finding it easier to make the frequent leaps up to a high D sharp rather than an E, whereas Paganini imitated the sound of a little bell by harmonics on his open string.

 

The fourth Étude in E Major (Paganini Caprice No.1) appeared in 1838 in two separate versions. The second version being altogether more formidable with double arpeggios in each hand. However, in 1851, Liszt prunes all this away and confines himself to the violin-like single stave so that this final version is practically an exact transcription of the original. Liszt uses very few actual textual additions but his clever way of dividing the figuration between the hands allows the pianist to effectively recreate the original violin staccato. In the fifth Étude in E Major, “La Chasse” (Paganini Caprice No.9), Liszt skilfully imitates the flute and French horns as exhorted by Paganini’s instructions “imitando il flauto” and “Imitando il corno” written in the original caprice. In revising the 1832 version Liszt has again excised many of the unnecessary complications but adds a frenetic coda to replace the original effect of the hunt dying away in the distance. I confess to my preference of the earlier inspiration. The sixth Étude in A minor (Paganini Caprice No.24) brings us to the famous “Theme and Variations” on which Brahms, Rachmaninov and many others have based their works. It is the largest in scale of the set and, even in the simpler revised version, affords a fine vehicle for virtuosity. Liszt follows the Paganini quite closely but goes further in exploiting the virtuoso potential of the original material.

 

Around 1848 Liszt contributed three further studies to the genre and these were published in the following year as Les Trois Études de Concert. In one edition they appeared as ‘Trois Caprices Poetiques’ with the titles Il Lamento (A flat) La Leggierezza (F minor) and Un Sospiro (D flat) and these highly indicative titles are still in use today. The influence of Chopin may be discerned in all three, but in general they are longer, rather more elaborate and less concise than Chopin’s own works in this genre. The latter two pieces have become quite well known but the former, Il Lamento, is quite rarely played. It is a big piece and rather similar to the Ricordanza (Transcendental Study No.9) in that it evolves from one motif and through a process of elaboration arrives at a passage of quite passionate agitation before subsiding to a quietly profound close. La Leggierezza is a whirlpool of chromatic figuration marked delicatemente and dolcissimo which also reaches a rhetorical climax before fading to a quiet close in F Major. Un Sospiro, the most often played of the set, is a beautiful poetical piece. Liszt’s fascination with the problems of crossing hands gives rise to one of his most celebrated melodies.

 

Fifteen years later Liszt published two further Concert studies, both admirable works of their kind, whose rapidly acquired popularity has endured. Waldesrauschen and, more particularly, Gnomenreigen, a lively contrasting scherzando of wayward spirits, have served the virtuoso pianist well over the years. It was now that Liszt embarked on a series of fascinating technical exercises for pianists. This last great endeavour was not completed till around 1880 and published eventually in twelve volumes after his death. When discussing the Paganini Études with Joyce Hatto at a Liszt Society Recital, I was interested, but not surprised to learn that she continually uses a number of the Liszt technical exercises, combined with Clementi’s Gradus and Parnassum, as a basis to build and maintain her very formidable technical prowess. It seems to be extraordinary that this exposition of the technique of piano-playing, by one who was, perhaps, the greatest master of the art who has ever lived, has not come into general use in colleges and academies.

 

Joyce Hatto plays the Complete Studies (Vol.2) on CACD 9132-2

Sergio Fiorentino plays the Six Paganini Studies with other Liszt works on CACD 9202-1

 

 

THE WORKS FOR PIANO & ORCHESTRA

 

Liszt’s Piano Concerto in E flat was a very long time in the composing.  Sketches have been found in a notebook of about 1830 but it was not completed until 1849.  It was revised in 1853 and again shortly after its first performance in Weimar in 1855 with Hector Berlioz conducting and the composer as soloist.

The pattern is that of a symphonic poem rather than a conventional three-movement concerto.  There are four sections but they are played without break and merge into one long movement.  The form is so free and the principle melodies, which keep recurring, are so developed and modified in rhythm and tempo that the work is, perhaps, best considered in relation to the four main themes.  The first-Allegro maestoso, tempo giusto-may be regarded as the motto theme of the whole concerto.  It is said that when playing this himself Liszt used to sing to it Das verscht ihr alle nicht (None of them will understand this).  It is announced at the outset by the strings, with interrupting chords for woodwind and brass, and leads to a cadenza-like flourish as the piano takes over.  The opening theme recurs several times, each repetition being pitched higher than the last, while the piano rhapsodies, sometimes lyrically and sometimes more passionately.  The second theme Quasi adagio-marks the beginning of the second section and is given out by the muted cellos and double basses and the taken over by the piano, over elaborate arpeggios for the left hand.  The third main theme-Allegretto vivace-is heralded by a long trill on the piano.  It is a sparkling little scherzo announced on the strings and the developed freely by the solo instrument.  It is here that the much-debated triangle is heard. The fourth principle theme-Allegro marziale animato-is readily recognisable as an answer to a phrase in the second theme.

 

When the concerto was first played in Vienna in 1856 Hanslick, the most powerful critic of his day, dubbed it the “Triangle Concerto” and such was his influence that the concerto was not played again in Vienna until 1869. Liszt himself is the best defender of his score.  In a letter to his cousin Edward Liszt dated March 26, 1857, he wrote, "As regards the triangle I do not deny that it may give offence, especially if struck too strong and not precisely.  Musicians who wish to appear serious and solid prefer to treat the instruments of percussion en canaille, which must not make their appearance in the seemly company of a symphony.  They inwardly bitterly deplore that Beethoven allowed himself to be seduced into the big drum and triangle in the finale of the Ninth Symphony.  Of Berlioz, Wagner and my humble self, it is no wonder that ‘like draws to like’ and, as we are treated as impotent canaille amongst musicians, it is quite natural that we should be on good terms with the canaille among the instruments.” The glory of Liszt’s Piano Concerto in E flat is that free, as is the construction, the recurrence of the four main themes in the same or variant forms and with derived subsidiaries makes it a wonderfully integrated and complete whole.  It is the use made of them rather than the themes themselves wherein the greatness of the work lies.

 

The Hungarian Fantasy for piano and orchestra is closely related to the piano solo 141k Hungarian Rhapsody in F minor and supplies the main theme.  Actually, the theme is a genuine Hungarian melody ‘Mohac’s Field’ and this is played off against a further high-spirited theme marked allegro á la Zingarese.  Finally a gypsy type motif emerges towards the end piece to round up the proceedings in a glittering flamboyant finale.  The first performance took place in Budapest in 1853 with the composer’s son-in-law, Hans von Bulow, to whom the work is dedicated, as soloist.

 

The Piano Concerto No.2 in A Major was written in 1839 but revised several times later and not given its first performance until February 7,1857, when it was played in Weimar with Hans von Bronsart, a pupil of Liszt and to whom it was dedicated, as the soloist with the composer conducting.  It was published in 1863, by which time it had been revised yet again.

 

In the original manuscript Liszt called his work a “Concerto Symphonique” and it is certainly more akin to a symphonic poem for piano and orchestra than a classical concerto.  It is in single movement form although there are several more or less well defined sections.  These are, however, linked by close thematic relationship and the American critic W.F.Apthorp once said that had the composer wanted to give the concerto a title it might well have been called “The Life and Adventures of a Melody.” The melody, Adagio sostenuto assai, a sweetly melancholy tune is introduced at the outset by flutes, clarinets and bassoons.  After twelve bars the piano steals in quietly with an arpeggio variant played pianissimo and accompanied by equally soft chords for the orchestra, with strings muted.  A second and very different transformation follows, in massive chords.  A meditative phrase for the solo horn and a short cadenza lead to a more vigorous maestoso theme, the forceful discussion of which between solo instrument and orchestra ends the first section.

 

The Allegro agitato assai, section, which is in the key of B flat minor, might almost be called a scherzo.  The quieter Allegro moderato that follows is built largely upon the opening melody.  Now a cello solo, but it also introduces a new theme, first heard on the piano and the taken up by flute and oboe.  A cadenza for the solo instrument introduces the episode marked Allegro deciso in which both previously heard and new themes are heard and which ultimately leads back to the tempo and mood of the scherzo-like Allegro agitato assai. To quote the picturesque words of Mr. Apthorp once more, “From this point onward the concerto is one unbroken series of kaleidoscope effects of the most brilliant and ever-changing description; of musical form, of musical coherence even, there is less and less.  It is as if some magician in some huge cave, the walls of which were covered with glistening stalactites and flashing jewels, were revelling in his fill of all the wonders of colour, brilliancy and dazzling light that his wand could command.  Never has even Liszt rioted more unreservedly in fitful orgies of flashing colour. The Totentanz was, it is believed, inspired by the horrors of the 14th, Century fresco the Triumph of Death in the Campo Santo, Pisa, which distilled Liszt’s most diabolic and original work in concerto form.  The Totentanz occupied Liszt over many years and the first version was finished as early as 1849.  It was subsequently thoroughly revised and appeared for the first time, in public, in 1865 with Hans von Bulow as soloist.  The work is a double set of variations on the Dies Irae (the Gregorian Chant for the dead) and we are immediately presented with this theme and a series of variations but, towards the end of Variation 5, Liszt presents us with a second plain chant and this becomes the subject for several variations before the Dies Irae is summoned up for a triumphant conclusion.  Sacheverell Sitwell’s comment in his ever fresh and readable biography of the composer sums up the mood perfectly, writing “shuddering, clanking, rhythms, its sounds as of dancing bones, are of the weirdest achievement possible.” 

This performance opens with the original 1849 version (Busoni edition) and then returns to the revised edition of 1865 for the rest of the work. There is also a solo piano version being a transcription of the 1865 orchestral edition, which Joyce Hatto has also recorded on the Concert Artist Label.

 

The Grande Fantasie Symphonique on themes from Berlioz’ Leilo was written in 1834 and performed by Liszt in Paris the following year. The original manuscript is safely held in the Liszt Museum at Weimar.  The score is written out in an unknown hand and so it would seem that the orchestration is not actually by Liszt.  However, we can see on the score that there are many comments and various alterations that are in Liszt’s own hand.  The work is presented in two sections and the first of which is an opening meditation on Berlioz’s setting of “Le Pecheur” (Goethe’s Der Fischer) and its alternating mood points out the real essence of Leilo as seen in miniature.  The second section, a much more lively affair, is based on the “Chanson de Brigands” and contains much more dramatic writing with the various themes linked by cadenzas as the music proceeds.  The mounting excitement, though, is interrupted by a final reference to the opening Lento. In the colourful scoring the triangle is well in evidence so we might just hazard a guess that Liszt had got what he wanted from his collaborator!

            

Joyce Hatto plays Liszt’s Works for Piano & Orchestra on CACD 9163-2 & CACD 9164-2 (January 2003 Release)

 

Ozan Marsh plays Liszt’s Piano Concerto No.1 (First version circa 1830) Spanish Rhapsody (Arr.Busoni) and Totentanz (version for solo piano) on CACD 9049-2 (December 2002 Release)

 

Sergio Fiorentino plays the Liszt A Major Concerto, Weber-Liszt Polonaise brillante and other works on APR 5584

 

 

 

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