19.11.2013 Views

PIANO MUSIC - Abeille Musique

PIANO MUSIC - Abeille Musique

PIANO MUSIC - Abeille Musique

SHOW MORE
SHOW LESS

You also want an ePaper? Increase the reach of your titles

YUMPU automatically turns print PDFs into web optimized ePapers that Google loves.

INTRODUCTION<br />

The Complete Liszt Piano Music<br />

three, travelling almost annually for the rest of his life to Rome, Weimar and Budapest,<br />

appearing occasionally as a conductor, much less often as a pianist, but almost always as<br />

a teacher and benefactor; and he probably acted throughout this endless round as some<br />

kind of emissary for the Vatican.<br />

The works of his late years are of very special interest: having been an avant-garde<br />

pioneer of the new Romantic vision—shared with Wagner and Bruckner, among others—<br />

he now became an extraordinary visionary of the end of the musical world he had helped<br />

so much to create, and wrote works which prefigured quite a lot of the music of the first<br />

half of the twentieth century. Many of his late works were known only to the few, and some<br />

were denied publication, so daring were they deemed—amongst which, his unique<br />

musical treatment of the Stations of the Cross: Via Crucis. One late symphonic poem—<br />

From the Cradle to the Grave—and the second Mephisto Waltz complete his orchestral<br />

œuvre, and there is quite a body of late choral, vocal and chamber music, much of which<br />

remains virtually unknown, including another, unfinished, oratorio: St Stanislaus. The<br />

late piano pieces, on the other hand, have enjoyed considerable notoriety since they were<br />

effectively rediscovered in the 1950s: the third book of the Années, the ‘Christmas Tree’<br />

Suite, the Historical Hungarian Portraits, Nuages gris, Schlaflos, the Valses oubliées, the<br />

three Csárdás, the pieces associated with the death of Wagner (La lugubre gondola, R.<br />

W.—Venezia and Am Grabe Richard Wagners) and the late Mephisto Waltzes, Mephisto-<br />

Polka and Bagatelle sans tonalité are all hailed for their prescience of the direction that<br />

Western classical music would take after Liszt’s death. Liszt died quite unexpectedly in<br />

Bayreuth on 31 July 1886, partly due to the disgraceful way he was treated there by his<br />

daughter Cosima, from whom he had been virtually estranged for the last twenty years of<br />

his life, and whom he had gone to help with the festival inaugurated by his son-in-law<br />

Wagner. Liszt’s artistic influence on his contemporaries and successors is incalculably<br />

great: Wagner, Bruckner, Tchaikovsky, Borodin, Smetana, Franck, Grieg, Fauré, Strauss,<br />

Mahler, Debussy, Ravel, Reger, Scriabin, Schoenberg, Bartók, and even Brahms, Verdi and<br />

John Adams are all touched by his example.<br />

One of the finest little books about music that has always inspired me is J W N<br />

Sullivan’s Beethoven: his Spiritual Development, in which Sullivan traces the evolving<br />

spirituality of Beethoven’s music to his gradual submission to, and acceptance of, his fate.<br />

I so wish that Mr Sullivan had written such a book about Liszt. A key difference between<br />

these composers, though, is that Beethoven never lived to old age. There’s something that<br />

happens in the music of old Liszt which at the same time goes a step further and a step<br />

backwards. It doesn’t matter how many frontiers Beethoven sweeps away in his C sharp<br />

minor Quartet or the Missa solemnis, what Beethoven offers in those works is as solid as<br />

a rock; once you work out what the tenor of his thought is, there’s nothing unstable about<br />

them. They’ll catch you off your guard in lots of places, and no doubt they must have been<br />

regularly terrifying for the people who heard them for the first time, but nonetheless<br />

they’re built in a language which is common to the rest of his output, in terms of<br />

explaining to someone how it works. But old Liszt, he keeps on breaking the mould. I<br />

suppose the summit of what he was trying to say musically, as far as the piano goes, has<br />

still got to be the Sonata, and he arrived at that point quite early in life. For orchestra, it is<br />

the Faust Symphony. And overall it must be the oratorio Christus, and that was finished<br />

by the end of 1867, so he had eighteen or so years to live during which he was never going<br />

to complete another really large-scale composition. He did produce suites of pieces which<br />

adumbrate larger conceptions, but nothing like the scale of those three masterworks. It<br />

appears that Liszt had somehow resolved the questions he had set himself. In his late<br />

28

Hooray! Your file is uploaded and ready to be published.

Saved successfully!

Ooh no, something went wrong!