The Masters and their Music Part 9

The latter, opening with that capricious little motive which seems to say "Why don't you?" is all the way arch, sprightly, and pleasing. But the second movement is one of the strongest and most impa.s.sioned in all the sonatas. It opens grave, serious, as if fate herself impended. A very slow and appealing motive is carried out thematically, almost in the modern style of Schumann or Brahms. It is a slow movement which might have been played upon Olympus or in Walhalla--provided the dissipated G.o.ds of the old dispensations had been developed to the capacity of remorse and repentance. Out of this profoundly sad, despondent, slow movement grows the tender flower of the delicious menuetto in D major which follows it. This is not to be taken too fast, remembering that we have our fast movement still to settle with later. It is a melodious, tender, gentle movement, which is one of the most characteristic and beautiful of the kind to be found anywhere in the entire list of the sonatas. In point of technical difficulty this sonata presents no very great problems.

The Sonata in A-flat, commonly remembered from the "Funeral March,"

which takes the place of a slow movement, opens with an air and variations. These were for a long time the most played of anything in the entire collection of sonatas. Lately, under the influence of the greater variations of Schumann and Brahms, they are becoming relegated to the more remote seats in the musical synagogue. They are, nevertheless, very interesting variations, quite in the "character"

line, each variation being a new picture, a new mood. Opposed to this kind of variations is the "formal" variation, where, although the theme is varied in its figuration and rhythm, the harmony remains unchanged, and the esthetic character of the successive variations remains practically unchanged. The "Funeral March Upon the Death of a Hero" is one of the famous pieces. It no longer presents material difficulties to the student. The scherzo must not be played too rapidly; the finale is to go about as fast as possible, and with the greatest possible lightness and delicacy.

The great Sonata in C minor, opus 111, is the last which Beethoven composed, having been written after the Ninth Symphony, about a year or two before his death. It is very difficult, technically; very serious in its spirit, and has the curious peculiarity of consisting of two movements only, excepting a short but very profound and serious introduction. The first movement is very impa.s.sioned, and the entire movement is developed from one or two short germs, thematically, quite in the manner which Schumann took up and accomplished so much with.

The spirit of the allegro is almost like that of the "Sonate Pathetique," but naturally much more mature. The slow movement, again, consists of an arietta of two eight-measure strains--the first in C major, the second in A minor. These two strains alternate throughout the variations, which are of the formal order; but here Beethoven manages to attain a very considerable development of interest, and rises to an imposing climax without ever quite forsaking the peace of the opening measures of the arietta. The variations are quite difficult to play, and the ending is very troublesome to treat in any manner to make it sound as one thinks an ending should. The whole, while perhaps but little more characteristic of Beethoven than the "Sonata Appa.s.sionata" or the great sonata for "Hammerklavier," opus 106, is nevertheless a very beautiful ill.u.s.tration of Beethoven's tone-poetry for pianoforte.

The Schumann "etudes Symphoniques," here chosen for ill.u.s.trating this capricious and humoristic master, is also a most astonishing work. It is in the form of a theme and variations, but the variations almost require the newspaper libel-saving reservation "alleged," since the theme in some of them is not referred to at all, while in others it occurs but for occasional measures here and there. Except for the monotony of key, this piece might as well have been called "studies" as variations. Nevertheless it is a most delightful example of Schumann's imagination and of tone-poetry for pianoforte. Each variation or successive movement is a new leaf from the world of the ideal. Nothing more contrasted, no more agreeable succession of moods, no more imposing example of poetic treatment of the pianoforte is to be found in the entire literature of the instrument. It is a work which the more one hears the more one likes it. It is curious, now that this work is so often played, to remember that Schumann wrote concerning it to a friend that he had just been writing a set of variations which interested him very much, but he doubted whether they would ever be played in public. Naturally, he said, it is unfit for such a position; it is for the musician in his closet. Yet of all the Schumann piano works this one probably is oftenest played, the immortal fantasia in C not excepted.

The other pieces here omitted from comment have perhaps already received sufficient attention in the earlier programs where they first appeared.

It will be quite possible for the player to subst.i.tute still other numbers in place of some of those here, or to rearrange the matter here presented, for the sake of using pieces which one can play well. In arranging the programs, however, it is desirable to preserve an agreeable succession of keys, a due contrast of moods, and a fitting ill.u.s.tration of the masters concerned.

CHAPTER X.

LISZT.

FRANZ LISZT.

Born October 22, 1811, at Raiding, Hungary.

Died July 31, 1886, at Bayreuth.

Unquestionably, Liszt was one of the most interesting personalities of musical history. This began to show itself in his early childhood.

Born at Raiding in Hungary, the boy had piano lessons at the age of six, his father having been a good musician himself, playing easily and well upon the piano and many other instruments. At the age of nine the boy appeared in concert with such success that, after a repet.i.tion of the concert in a neighboring town, the great Hungarian magnates, Prince Esterhazy at their head, united in providing a stipend of six hundred gulden yearly for his proper education. Thereupon Liszt's father resigned his position and attended scrupulously to his son, removing to Vienna and placing him under the teaching of the famous writer of etudes, Czerny. Liszt was now ten years old, and for two years he studied in Vienna. At the end of this period a farewell concert was given, in which the boy played with such astonishing power that Beethoven, who was present, came upon the stage and embraced and kissed him at the close of the concert.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Franz Liszt]

Liszt was now taken to Paris, with the intention of entering him at the Conservatory. But Cherubini, who was then head of the inst.i.tution, was not favorable to gifted children, and admission was refused him on the ground of his being a foreigner. Accordingly Liszt went on by himself, but entered upon thorough private lessons in counterpoint and instrumentation from Paer and Reicha. He attracted attention in Paris at once, his princely letters of introduction giving him admission in circles where a common person could never enter; once entered, his own genius and fascinating personality did the rest. Liszt seems to have been of a very fine and sincere nature, genial, charming in conversation, having plenty of wit as well as sentiment; entirely free from jealousy, yet most likely feeling within himself powers which as yet had not come to expression. He was singularly pure in character and a universal favorite of women as well as men. In 1824 he made his first concert journey to England, and he played everywhere in France and in parts of Germany. In 1827 his father died, and the boy now had the responsibility of supporting his mother. Accordingly he continued to make his home in Paris, and occupied a part of his time in teaching.

At this time he was in the habit of playing such concert numbers as the Weber "Invitation to the Dance,"--with perhaps a few cadenzas of his own, but mainly in the original form,--the Concertstucke of Weber, and now and then a sonata of Beethoven. One of his favorite numbers was a sonata by Czerny, and we find a letter in which he says, substantially (I quote from memory): "Dear Master: I wish you would write me another sonata, for nothing pleases so well as the one you formerly wrote for me."

Liszt does not appear to have entered upon any course as pianist which could be called original or marking out a new path until after Paganini came to Paris, in 1831. This wonderful genius performed the most astonishing and unheard-of things upon the violin. More than a year before this time Robert Schumann had heard him in Milan, and was already beginning to try to do for the piano some of the things which Paganini did upon the violin, in his famous "Studies after Paganini."

Paganini's appearance in Paris set the town on fire, musically, and for some time all attention was centered upon him, to the neglect even of such well-tried favorites as Liszt had by this time become. This fact and the inspiration of his novel playing inspired Liszt to new efforts on his own behalf, and he now entered upon the career of original mastery of the pianoforte and the new style which from this time characterized his works. It is probable that some of his famous "Studies for Transcendent Execution" date from this period, but as he rewrote them twice afterward, it is not possible now to say which ones, or to trace the steps by which he arrived at the many new effects in piano playing which later came from his pen in such astonishing and epoch-marking number.

Berlioz, the father of program music, came back from his residence in Italy in 1833, and brought with him his fantastic symphony, "Episodes in the Life of an Artist." This work Liszt set for the piano, and, if I am right, it was the beginning of the enormous number of transcriptions of orchestral works for piano which are to be found in his works. Liszt had already made a certain mark as composer, his operetta of "Don Sancho" having been produced in 1825.

When Liszt turned his serious attention to composition, which he must have done about this time, he entered earnestly into the path of the so-called "music of the future," although this term had not then been invented. Berlioz had shown himself very bold in his modulations, and the learned Fetis had advocated the closer a.s.sociation of keys which distinguishes the harmonic practice of Richard Wagner from the rules of the cla.s.sic school. So it was with two fixed ideas that Liszt began to write. First (from Berlioz), that music ought to signify something, adhere more or less closely to a poetic or imaginative program; and, second, that in trying to do this, one might go in any direction needed for the desired tonal effect. Meanwhile, upon the keyboard of the piano he had the individuality of manner which had been developed much sooner, and which was now taking on an astonishing range. Add to these influences the ideas of individuality and human freedom which were in the air, and we need not wonder that the talent of this great artist now blossomed out with such luxuriance that its fragrance filled the world.

It was in 1834 that Liszt's first marriage took place, or as soon after as circ.u.mstances warranted. The young and brilliant Countess D'Agoult, wearied with a tyrannic and unsympathetic husband, left him and placed herself under the care of Liszt. They lived during the next three years in Geneva, in a semi-private manner, and here also Liszt continued his studies and experiments. Then, in 1836, he entered upon his great career as performing artist, when he astonished Europe from one end to the other by playing the piano in a manner previously unheard of. His art had everything in it. He had enormous facility, his very long hand giving him the same kind of mastery over technical difficulties that Paganini had upon the finger-board of the violin; and, while indulging in long stretches of pianissimo, he diversified his performances by climaxes of prodigious power, under which for a long time piano hammers gave way, so that often there were three or four grand pianos upon the stage, and as soon as one was knocked out in the melee another was rolled forward to be sacrificed in turn. After a few years the piano-makers found ways of strengthening the actions, so that nowadays such a thing as a hammer breaking in a concert never occurs.

In 1839 Liszt did one of those daring things which hardly any other musician has ever done. Hearing that the committee in charge of raising funds for a Beethoven monument at Bonn had found themselves making little or no headway, Liszt wrote them offering to raise the entire missing sum himself. This he did, and in 1847, I think it was, he himself conducted the musical festival with which the monument was dedicated, himself playing the Fifth Concerto of Beethoven in a manner which Berlioz characterized gloriously in his letters from Bonn to the Paris "Journal des Debats."

In this same year Liszt entered upon the restful period of his life in accepting the position of musical director at Weimar, where he lived and kept up a sort of musical court until 1861, and at intervals afterward. In the exercise of his duties here he was able to accept the ma.n.u.script of Wagner's "Lohengrin" when that hot-headed young musician had gotten himself mixed up in the revolution of 1848 at Dresden, and Liszt produced the work at Weimar in 1850. From that time forward Liszt was the mouthpiece of the new school, or rather he was a sort of G.o.dfather to it, ministering to Wagner's impecuniousness often and again out of resources which were absurdly small when we consider the rank of genius which the salary covered. Liszt's salary at Weimar was about $1100 a year.

In order to appreciate Liszt's standpoint as pianoforte writer more particularly, it is necessary for a moment to glance at his celebrated contemporary, Thalberg. This artist, born one year later than Liszt, was taught by Hummel and Sechter at Vienna, and in 1827 he made his debut as pianist, exciting admiration by the beauty of his tone, his unexampled equality of running work, and perhaps a little later through an effect of which he was the inventor (at least for the pianoforte)--that, namely, in which the melody is carried by the thumbs in the middle range of the instrument, the long tones being sustained by the pedal while the hands carry long and light running pa.s.sages across the full range of the instrument. The real inventor of this effect was Parish-Alvars, a great virtuoso of the harp, who was born in 1808. Availing himself of the beautiful melodies of his native Wales, and later of suitable operatic melodies of the Donizetti and Bellini school, he created beautiful effects upon the harp, previously unheard, by means of melodies and surrounding variations or accompanying arabesques of runs, both arpeggios and scales. When Thalberg began to be praised for discovering this device in piano playing there ensued a long and acrimonious correspondence between him and Parish-Alvars, the latter claiming the prior invention--and rightfully so.

Thalberg arrived in Paris in 1836, and for some time there was quite a contest between him and Liszt for superiority of art. Thalberg sang a melody beautifully, and his running work was of the most delightfully clear and even description. He was entirely reposeful in his work, never manifesting any uneasiness of bodily position, no matter what the difficulty of his playing might be. Liszt, on the other hand, being of an impa.s.sioned and nervous temperament, had a great deal more motion, and in his brilliant climaxes he developed a strength which seemed excessive to the aristocratic hearers const.i.tuting the main portion of his audiences. Presently, however, the honors of the compet.i.tion went to Liszt, where they have ever since remained.

Liszt had the good fortune to divine the future course of piano development, as also did Schumann. Both took for the strategic center of the piano the principle of what has been called the "differential touch," or discrimination in touch, by means of which not only long pa.s.sages of different kinds were discriminated from one another, as in the Thalbergian melodies and their surrounding arabesques, but the infinitely finer discriminations which take place within the phrase, and especially in chord playing, where at least one tone of the chord belongs to the melodic thread, and as such receives an emphasis, or at least a distinctness of delivery, to which the remainder of the chord has no claim whatever. Moreover, while Thalberg employed the pedal,--and it was, in fact, an indispensable condition of the effect of his pieces,--he did not rightly consider what would be the effect when the piano should be developed to a sonority and continuance of vibration which in his time it did not have. Schumann and Liszt recognized the inner significance of the pedal, and wrote their works with reference to what we might call perhaps a sort of pianoforte chiaro-oscuro (luminous-indistinctness), which inevitably follows when the pedal is rapidly employed in quickly moving chords. In many of the Schumann pieces this is one of the most notable elements of the tonal beauty, and it is the underlying condition of the successful performance of nearly or quite all of the great Liszt transcriptions.

Thus, in the course of the thirty years or more over which his activity as composer extended, Liszt not only inaugurated new principles of playing, but brought them to perfection himself, and ill.u.s.trated them in a thousand ways in his voluminous works; and, through the charm of his personality and his pleasure in contact with young and promising genius, became the master and the forming influence of all the concert pianists who came upon the stage previous to his death.

No periods can be safely marked in the creative career of Liszt, at least not in so far as relates to the pianoforte. In his "Studies for Transcendent Execution," which appear to have been first written about 1836, advanced principles of playing are ill.u.s.trated as fully as any that meet us later; and in the first of his serious transcriptions of orchestral works for piano,--the "Fantastic Symphony" of Berlioz,--he set himself as carefully to reproduce upon the piano the orchestral work as he did in his famous transcriptions of the Beethoven symphonies and the later things of Wagner. But, while creative periods can not be affirmed with certainty, there are differences of style. In some of his works he indulges in a variety of piano-playing additions having no essential, or indeed suitable, relation to the musical matter which he purports to be ill.u.s.trating. In others, on the contrary, he is essentially simple, loyal, and scrupulous to the last degree. The latter is true of his transcriptions of some of the Schubert songs, especially such as "My Sweet Repose," "The Wanderer," "Hark! Hark! the Lark," "The Erl King," "The Ave Maria," "Greeting to Spring," etc. In many of his operatic fantasies, on the contrary, he puts in running work, effect-cadenzas, and interpolations of various sorts. This is ill.u.s.trated, perhaps better than elsewhere, in his enormously difficult fantasia upon melodies from Bellini's "Sonnambula," which for several years was one of his own concert pieces. In this there is a very difficult part where two melodies are going together, and a long and difficult trill. Other examples of this kind of writing are found in his "Trovatore" fantasias, his "Rigoletto," and the like.

After the production of "Lohengrin," Liszt seems to have entered upon a more serious view of his art than he had previously held, and his works later are generally more confined to musical considerations, and free from display as such. Nevertheless, the "Rigoletto" fantasia can not have been written prior to 1851, for it was in this year that the opera was first produced.

In cataloguing the Liszt works according to the difficulty they present to the piano player, it must first be noted that such has been the advance during the fifty years since the early ones were produced, that compositions which at their first appearance seemed stupendous to ordinary pianists have now, thanks to education and the general advance of art, become practicable to players of little beyond ordinary capacity. In fact, there is a whole world of pieces by Liszt which are more practicable to young players than most of the serious compositions of Chopin. The latter composer demands, above everything else, refinement and delicate finish; Liszt demands musical idea and effect, and, while refinement adds greatly to the charm of the works, it is not absolutely a _sine qua non_. In other words, Liszt always wrote with an eye to the stage, and with a certain largeness and ample scope of treatment, in which breadth and genuine musical intention, combined with a certain freedom upon the keyboard, are the main conditions of success. From a modern standpoint, the most difficult of all the Liszt works are, probably, his arrangement of the overture to Wagner's "Tannhauser,"--which he himself considered by far the most difficult piece ever written,--the "Don Juan" fantasia, and perhaps also the "Sonnambula."

It is, of course, extremely difficult to ill.u.s.trate powers so varied and ample as those of Liszt in any single program, unless we were to confine ourselves to compositions of the most extreme difficulty, since it is in these that he has shown most fully what he considers possible upon the pianoforte. The following list, however, will afford a good idea of his style, without making upon the player any demands which can not be met by the common run of superior amateurs. At the same time, in consequence of the variety of composers represented, the program presents quite a variety.

PROGRAM.

"A Dream of Love." No. 3.

"Waldesrauschen."

"Consolation." No. 5.

Polonaise in E major.

Five Transcriptions from the songs of Schubert.

"The Wanderer."

"Greeting to Spring."

"My Sweet Repose."

"Hark! Hark! the Lark."

"The Erl King."

Four Transcriptions from Wagner and Paganini.

March and Chorus from "Tannhauser."

Romance of the Evening Star. "Tannhauser."

Spinning Song from "The Flying Dutchman."

"La Campanella." (Paganini.) Concerto in E-flat. With second piano. (Optional.)

The first group of these pieces contains four numbers entirely original with Liszt. The first one, "A Dream of Love," is No. 3 in a series of nocturne-like compositions which are very melodious, picturesque, and full of sentiment. At the same time, toward the end of this third number there is one of those brilliant pa.s.sages the opportunity for which Liszt could never forego. The second piece on the list, "Forest Murmurs," is a little on the line of the "Forest Murmurs" in Wagner's "Siegfried," except that Liszt operates mainly in the upper range of the piano, whereas Wagner busies himself for a long time with the lower ranges of pitch. When this piece is done with sufficient delicacy, and at the same time with adequate brilliancy and fervor, it produces a most astonishing and gratifying effect. The next selection is one of a set of six called "Consolations." These, again, are nocturne-like in character, and the one here selected is so simple that no explanation is necessary. The Polonaise in E major is one of the most brilliant and satisfactory of the original pieces of Liszt for the piano. The semi-martial chivalry of this style of composition is extremely well reproduced, and while there is a long pa.s.sage in A minor which requires to be played rather discreetly to prevent its becoming tiresome, there is some lovely cadenza work in the last part in a style thoroughly original with Liszt.

If the player prefers one of the Hungarian rhapsodies, it might be subst.i.tuted for the Polonaise in E in this group. The Hungarian rhapsodies are written some of them on original melodies in Hungarian style, but most of them probably on well-known Hungarian Czardas. It is difficult to speak with certainty on this subject, as Liszt has left no indications as to which are original and which are quoted. To refer to a very different composition in the same school, it may be mentioned that the famous Hungarian dances of Brahms are composed upon melodies given him by Remenyi, when both were young. These melodies were not traditional Hungarian themes, but were improvised by Remenyi himself.

The next group of pieces consists entirely of transcriptions from Schubert's songs. They are very varied in musical spirit and in manner of treatment, but, with the exception of the long-continued succession of octaves in "The Erl King,"--for which Schubert is responsible rather than Liszt,--they are not very difficult for the player, and the resources of the piano are used with the utmost discretion for producing a musical effect.

In the third group of pieces we have several selections of the Wagner transcriptions, beginning with the very brilliant march from "Tannhauser," which, however, should not be ended at the first climax, but the intermezzo should be played, and so to the end. The "Romance of the Evening Star" is one of those delightful melodies which it is always a pleasure to hear. These selections conclude with the very brilliant study after Paganini, "La Campanella." In case this should not prove practicable for the player, a Liszt rhapsody might be subst.i.tuted or the Tarantelle from "Venice and Naples." The program may be regarded as complete at this point, but if it happens to be convenient to give one or more movements of the Concerto in E-flat, a still different idea of Liszt's manner of writing will have been gained. The Concerto in E-flat is very brilliant, but, excepting the third movement, is not very difficult. There are few piano pieces in the repertory which produce so much effect in proportion to the labor of performing them as this. It would be possible to omit the third movement and play the first, second, and fourth.

CHAPTER XI.