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Concert Artist/Fidelio Recordings Royston, Hertfordshire, SG8 7EG, England
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THE GREATNESS OF LISZT
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
Ozan
Marsh plays Liszt’s Piano Concerto No.1 (First version circa 1830) Spanish
Rhapsody (Arr.Busoni)
Sergio
Fiorentino plays the Liszt A Major Concerto, Weber-Liszt Polonaise brillante and
other works on APR 5584
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© 2005 Concert Artist Recordings
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