Franz Liszt (1811-1886): Piano Music, Vol. 15
Piano Transcriptions of Beethoven's Symphonies
(S464/R128)
Symphony No.2 in D Major, Op. 36 .Symphony No.5 in C
minor, Op. 67
For us musicians, Beethoven's work is like the pillar
of cloud and fire which guided the Israelites through the desert - a pillar of
cloud to guide us by day, a pillar of fire to guide us by night, "so that
we may progress both day and night."
Franz Liszt, 2nd December, 1852,
letter sent
from Weimar to Imperial Russian Councillor of State,
writer on
music and Beethoven specialist,
Wilhelm
von Lenz in St Petersburg.
There are varied legends about Liszt's meeting with Beethoven.
Separating fact from fiction, what we know is that he met Beethoven in Vienna,
a day or two before Liszt's concert at the small Imperial Redoutensaal on Sunday, 13th April, 1823. The legend tells us that Beethoven attended the concert, at the conclusion
of which, he stepped to the platform, and warmly embracing the eleven-year-old,
bestowed on him the so-called Weihekuβ or kiss of consecration,
wishing the boy health, happiness and success The supposed event was given
further substance in a lithograph of 1873 by Istvan Halasz. We now know that no
such public display ever took place.
Beethoven's hearing loss continued slowly but steadily
until the age of 52, in 1822, when for all practical purposes he was totally
deaf. In that year he was forced to abandon an attempt to conduct his opera Fidelio
By the time he met Liszt, his deafness had become profound Despite this, he
continued to use ear trumpets and a wooden 'drumstick' applied to his teeth to
aid his hearing In 1823, moreover, Beethoven developed a prolonged, painful
ophthalmic complaint which lasted from April to the following January; photophobia
(an abnormal sensitivity or intolerance to light) was apparently the most
prominent symptom It seems unlikely, therefore, that Beethoven would have attended
a concert, and even less likely that he would have approached the performer or
created a public spectacle with the so-called Weihekuβ.
According to Beethoven’s Conversation Books, it appears
that Liszt visited Beethoven the day before the concert, in order to ask him
for a theme, in a sealed envelope, on which he could improvise at his concert Beethoven
did not provide the requested theme. Many years later, in 1875, Liszt gave the
following oral account (printed in many sources on Beethoven and Liszt; this
English version is from Paul Nettl's Beethoven Encyclopedia) to his
pupil Ilka Horowitz-
Barnay, of his only meeting with Beethoven: 'I was about
eleven years of age when my venerated teacher Czerny took me to Beethoven. He
had told the latter about me a long time before, and had begged him to listen
to me play some time. Yet Beethoven had such a repugnance to infant prodigies
that he had always violently objected to receiving me. Finally, however, he allowed
himself to be persuaded by the indefatigable Czerny, and in the end cried
impatiently. "In God's name, then, bring me the young Turk!" It was
ten o'clock in the morning when we entered the two small rooms in the Schwarzspanierhaus
[Liszt made a mistake in the address, since in April 1823 Beethoven was living at
Oberepfarrgasse 60, Kothgasse] which Beethoven occupied; I somewhat shyly, Czerny
amiably encouraging me. Beethoven was working at a long, narrow table by the
window. He looked gloomily at us for a time, said a few brief words to Czerny
and remained silent when my kind teacher beckoned me to the piano. I first
played a short piece by Ries. When I had finished Beethoven asked me whether I
could play a Bach fugue. I chose the C minor Fugue from the Well Tempered
Clavier. "And could you also transpose the Fugue at once into another
key?" Beethoven asked me.
Fortunately I was able to do so. After my closing chord I
glanced up. The great Master's darkly glowing gaze lay piercingly upon me. Yet
suddenly a gentle smile passed over the gloomy features, and Beethoven came quite
close to me, stooped down, put his hand on my head, and stroked my hair several
times." A devil of a fellow," he whispered, "a regular young
Turk!" Suddenly I felt quite brave. "May I play something of yours
now?" I boldly asked. Beethoven smiled and nodded. I played the first
movement of the C major Concerto. When I had concluded Beethoven caught hold of
me with both hands, kissed me on the forehead and said gently. "Go! You
are one of the fortunate ones! For you will give joy and happiness to many
other people! There is nothing better or finer!".' Liszt told the preceding
in a tone of deepest emotion, with tears in his eyes, and a warm note of
happiness sounded in the simple tale. For a brief space he was silent and then said.
'This event in my life has remained my greatest pride - the palladium of my
whole career as an artist I tell it but very seldom and - only to good
friends!'
Certainly, Beethoven occupied a very important place in
Liszt's life When Beethoven's Broadwood piano was sold after his death, it was
bought by the Viennese music publisher, Carl Anton Spina, for 181 florins.
Spina gave the piano to Liszt in whose house at Weimar it was until his death.
In 1887, Princess Marie Hohenlohe, daughter of Liszt's friend, the Princess Sayn-Wittgenstein,
presented it to the National Museum in Budapest.
Liszt spent several months during the summer of 1837 at
George Sand's Chateau Nohant with the Comtesse Marie d' Agoult, whom he had
first met in 1833. She was six years his senior and married to General Charles
d' Agoult. In 1835 she left her husband and followed Liszt to Switzerland.
Their sensational relationship lasted ten years and produced three children,
including Wagner's second wife, Cosima. It was during the summer of 1837 that
Liszt worked intensively on his first piano transcriptions of Beethoven's
symphonies. Symphonies Nos. 5 and 6 were published in 1840 by
Breitkopf & Hartel with a dedication to the French painter and violinist
Jean Dominique Ingres. Symphony No.7 was also published in 1840, but by
Tobias Haslinger in Vienna. In a letter written to his publisher, Breitkopf
& Hartel, Liszt refers to '… the Beethoven Symphonies, of which I have undertaken
the arrangement, or, more correctly speaking, the pianoforte score.
To tell the truth, this work has, nevertheless, cost me some trouble; whether I
am right or wrong, I think it sufficiently different from, not to say
superior to, those of the same kind which have hitherto appeared. The recent
publication of the same Symphonies, arranged by Mr. Kalkbrenner, makes
me anxious that mine should not remain any longer in a portfolio. I intend also
to finger them carefully, which, in addition to the indication of the different
instruments (which is important in this kind of work), will most certainly make
this edition much more complete.' These transcriptions and those that followed were
pioneering achievements. They brought Beethoven's scores to every home and
brought the art of 'symphonic' transcription into a new era. During his busy
years at Weimar, from 1848 to 1861, the Beethoven symphonies remained in
Liszt's mind and are mentioned regularly in his letters. Breitkopf & Hartel
continued to ask him to finish his transcriptions to provide a worthy
counterpart to their excellent edition of the symphonies in full score Liszt
continued to have doubts. 'How am I to imbue the empty hammers of the piano
with breath and spirit, with sound and power, with depth and solemnity, with
colour and accent? However, I shall try to eliminate at least the most glaring
faults and to give the piano-playing world as accurate a model of Beethoven's
genius as I can: By March 1864 Liszt had transcribed the other six symphonies,
except for the choral finale of the Ninth, and thoroughly revised the earlier
three. In 1865 he had completed the task and Breitkopf & Hartel published the
complete set with a dedication to Hans yon Bulow.
These transcriptions by Liszt do not attempt to mimic an
orchestra, but rather re-create the combined sound of the orchestral
instruments in a pianistic tapestry. In his preface to the published scores,
Liszt declares: 'With the immense development of its harmonic power the piano
seeks to appropriate more and more all orchestral compositions. In the compass
of its seven octaves it can, with but a few exceptions, reproduce all traits,
all combinations, all figurations of the most learned, of the deepest
tone-creations, and leaves to the orchestra no other advantages, than those of
the variety of tone-colours and massive effects - immense advantages, to be
sure.' He concludes: 'My aim has been attained if I stand on a level with the intelligent
engraver, the conscientious translator, who comprehend the spirit of a work and
thus contribute to the knowledge of the great masters and to the formation of
the sense for the beautiful.' Liszt certainly accomplishes that and more in these
masterful transcriptions.
Marina and Victor Ledin