Liszt: A Listener's Guide

Unlocking the Masters #18

by John Bell Young

Unlocking the MastersComposer, bon vivant, pianist, teacher, superstar showman, raconteur, writer, entrepreneur, ladies' man, philanthropist, and priest, Franz Liszt is widely viewed today not only as a great composer, but also as the greatest pianist of the 19th century. Yet his enormous body of piano music, by turns poetic, glittering, acrobatic, prophetic, profound, and haunting, failed to command the acclaim it deserved in his lifetime. In Liszt, John Bell Young takes a close look at this opulent music, illuminating its many facets and challenges from a pianist's engaged perspective.

An accompanying CD contains five works played by Claudio Arrau:

1. Sonata in B Minor
2. "Dante" Sonata
3. Jeux d'Eau a la Ville d'Este
4. Ballade No. 2
5. Transcendental Etude No. 10

Genres: Music

149 pages, Paperback

First published May 1, 2009

Reviews

[Lobstergirl · Rating 3 out of 5]

Overall I think this could be a helpful book for those learning, or just listening to Liszt's piano music. Young analyzes, in a fair bit of detail, the Sonata in B Minor; the Années de pèlerinage, two works from Harmonies poétiques et religieuses, S. 173 (Invocation and Bénédiction de Dieu dans la solitude), Mephisto Waltz No. 1 and No. 3, Impromptu in F-sharp Major S. 191, Ballade in B Minor S. 171, Hungarian Rhapsody No. 19, Isolde's Liebestod S. 447, the Ave Maria transcription, and the twelve Transcendental Etudes S. 139.

There are some errors. Young refers twice to Liszt scholar Kenneth Hamilton as Kevin; the book says the F-sharp Impromptu is on the accompanying disc, which it isn't. The introductory chapter is a little heavy on the clichés: "...no one could afford to ignore Liszt in his lifetime..." "...he compelled pianists to move beyond boundaries that, until he came along, they did not even know they had."

Here was one paragraph in particular which set off my bullshit detectors. Describing music is a notoriously subjective thing, so I guess one might as well fling caution to the wind and heap on whatever metaphors and adjectives one likes best. "Among [the B Minor Sonata's] greatest interpreters, the late Claudio Arrau extolled the work's autumnal grandeur, but not at the expense of its Catholic pretensions. In his hands it became a musical cathedral, wherein its litany of torrential arpeggios, double octaves, and omnipotent chorales, like flying buttresses, assured structural integrity. Arrau's interpretative investment was well rounded and uncompromising, in that he envisioned the work as a disembodied life form, whose journey from conception to annihilation relies on breath and heartbeat. Alfred Brendel, on the other hand, arrived at a wholly different conception, conveying much of the sonata's symphonic scale, rhythmic intensity, and orchestral breadth. From the Russian side, the polyphonically savvy Vladimir Sofronitsky, whose listening apparatus was so preternaturally acute as to differentiate and unravel its busy counterpoint with uncanny transparency, endowed the sonata with a kaleidoscopic viscosity and tensile elasticity that few pianists, before or since, have been able to duplicate. His fellow Russian, Lazar Berman, too, issued a stellar and exceptionally stimulating reading of the sonata, at once robust, fastidious, colorful, and regal." He goes on, describing Ernst Levy's, Alfred Cortot's (not surprisingly, he brought a Gallic sensibility), and Vladimir Horowitz's readings.

As for the accompanying CD, I wish we could hear from a variety of artists, not just Claudio Arrau, whose rendition here of the Sonata is absolutely demented, and left me disturbed for some time. (Ok, a few hours.) I never want to hear it again. (This is a matter of taste; some people love this version.)