Liszt lying in state. Bayreuth. 1886.
The charming Spanish Rhapsody, the Chopin-like “Consolations,” the wonderfully impromptu-like “Apparitions” and “Harmonies Poétiques et Religieuses,” that grand congeries of various differently arranged and differently put together Études and drawing-room pieces, the “Années de Pélerinage” (three volumes) with the Tarantelle, the Paganini Études with the Campanella, further collections of Études till we reach the Twelve Études d’exécution transcendente, the “Dream Nocturnes,” the “Mephisto Waltzes and Polkas,” the “Caprice Valses,” the “Chromatic Galop”—I will only refer to a few pieces which possess a special historic or artistic interest. In 1834, as his first romantic production, appeared the “Pensée des Morts,” in mixed time, senza tempo, with mottos from Lamartine, for whom, with Chateaubriand, he felt the highest literary admiration. In the same year came out “Lyon,” a realistic piece on the uprising of the Lyons working-classes, and one of the few piano-compositions relating to contemporary events. “Sposalizio” and “Il Penseroso” (1838, 1839) are notable as pieces inspired by the impressions of the representative arts, as the somewhat feeble “Fantasia quasi Sonata” (1837) arose from the perusal of Dante. The whole of these are romantic confessions in which the arts greet each other in friendly wise. In importance, however, they are far surpassed by the later piano works; above all by the five best original pieces, the Legends, the Concertos, and the B minor Sonata.
Music-room in the “Altenburg” at Weimar, with Liszt’s giant piano by Alexandre, Paris.
In the background a clavier of Mozart’s.
The Legends of 1866 are in honour of his patron saint, St Francis. The first shews him in an ecclesiastical theme, sweeping over the waves, which are represented by the usual variation. In the other he is preaching to the birds. It is a wonderful free impromptu, in which a church air is set over against the twitter of the birds, which is marked by masterly technique. The birds seem to be listening to the saint; their twittering seems likely to give way to his pious harmonies; but at the conclusion we see them again in a cheerfulness which leads on to a ravishing cry of birds. It is the most poetical piece that Liszt ever wrote for the piano.
The Sonata in B minor (1854) dedicated to Schumann, has one movement but many themes. Six motives of varied colouring are knitted into one web, which unfolds itself into a splendid picture. A royal brilliancy lies over the whole. More free and lively are the two single-movement Concertos. The one in A major has its characteristic line C sharp B C B, which is to be followed out into the cadenzas; a main theme with all kinds of subordinate themes, in a natural threefold quickening from slower reflective sections. The E flat major is constructed on the opposite model—its characteristic line is E flat, D, E flat; D E flat, D, D flat. This work is probably the most frequently heard of Liszt’s concerted pieces. It is more giusto in essence, with slower by-themes—especially the beautiful Adagio with the Tristan-like motive and the Pastorale middle-section—swinging up in Bacchic style. On the return to the main theme all the motives alter into a more cheerful strain; the adagio gives way to a martial movement, and the Pastorale is taken up by the piano with increased ornamentation. In the place of the old formal scheme a psychological process had entered; an inward conversation of the piano with the orchestra and its instruments.