Lord knows, there have been plenty of eyerolling movies about classical musicians, especially classical music composers. How many times have I seen Liszt portrayed (by Dirk Bogarde, Henry Daniell, Julian Sands, Roger Daltrey, etc.)? Sometimes, these historical figures are played by actual musicians (Gustav Leonhardt as Bach, Gidon Kremer as Paganini; there was even talk at one point about Leonard Bernstein playing Tchaikovsky, with Greta Garbo as Nadezhda van Meck!), but can even the most skilled virtuoso, or maestro, as the case may be, ever live up to accrued legend?
I know I’ve posted a link to the Leonhardt Bach film here in the past (“The Chronicle of Anna Magdalena Bach,” 1968). Now, on the anniversary of the birth of Franz Liszt – the progenitor of the piano recital, the creator of the symphonic poem, and perhaps the greatest pianist in an era teeming with great pianists – is footage of one of his most renowned interpreters, Sviatoslav Richter, portraying Liszt in a Soviet film about Mikhail Glinka.
Can even Richter live up to the legend? See for yourself in this clip from “The Composer Glinka” (1952).
BONUS SECTION:
Henry Daniell, one of Hollywood’s most supercilious villains, as Liszt in “Song of Love” (1947)
Roger Daltrey as the Abbé Liszt, in cassock, having his blood sucked by vampire Wagner in Ken Russell’s “Lisztomania” (1975)
Corny Hungarian peasant sequence with Dirk Bogarde as Liszt in “Song without End” (1960)
Frustration of the day: only 60 seconds of Richter playing Liszt’s Piano Sonata in B minor
Richter talks about the Liszt sonata, with more footage from the same read-through
Richter playing the complete work in concert (audio only)
Figurative laurels for Franz Liszt (1811-1886) on his birthday!
Cartoon in this week’s The New Yorker. What’s the dealio with all the standing ovations the last number of years? You’d think we were watching a Franz Liszt-Niccolò Paganini smackdown every night of the week, with Farinelli grinding over a row of crush cars in his monster truck. Standing ovations for unexceptional performances – that is to say, performances that are absolutely fine, but not exactly life-altering – is the shadow pandemic nobody talks about. Worst of all is when the numbnuts in front of me stand, blocking my view of the stage, making me look like a numbnut, because now I have to stand too!
I really missed a trick this morning in not including Robert Schumann on my radio show, “Sweetness and Light.” Today is Schumann’s birthday anniversary, and my theme is June weddings. It would have been perfect had I included Franz Liszt’s arrangement of “Widmung” (“Dedication”), a song Schumann had written for his bride, Clara, as I had four or five minutes to fill at the end of the program. But perhaps it’s best that I didn’t.
For whatever reason, Liszt really rubbed Clara the wrong way. Essentially, everything about him ran counter to what she and her husband thought music should be. But it wasn’t always the case.
Clara first met Liszt in 1838, prior to her marriage. Clara Wieck was 19 years-old. Like everyone else, she was in awe of his superhuman technique, but it also made her feel inadequate, especially when they played piano four-hands.
For his part, Liszt was very complimentary. In a letter to his mistress, Marie d’Agoult, he wrote, “Her compositions are truly remarkable, especially for a woman. They contain a hundred times more inventiveness and real feelings than all former and present fantasias by Thalberg.” Sigismond Thalberg was one of Liszt’s chief rivals. But this wasn’t simply “trash talk.” Liszt was consistently impressed by both Schumanns.
In 1840, he dedicated his “Transcendental Etudes” to Clara. She continued to include his music on her concert programs until 1847. Sadly, familiarity bred contempt, and increasingly she came to find everything about him repugnant. She didn’t like that he was a showboat. She recoiled when he took liberties with the scores he played. And she was totally put off by the indelicacy with which Liszt described her husband’s Piano Quintet as “typically Leipzig.”
Liszt, clueless, continued to make friendly overtures, championing Robert’s music. Robert, for his part, responded cordially. Liszt published a long essay in praise of the artistry of both Schumanns in 1855, but Clara remained implacable.
As the War of the Romantics began to heat up in 1860, with heightened antagonism between the Brahmsians (including the Schumanns) and the New German School (followers of Liszt and Wagner), contact became rare.
In 1884, Clara wrote to Liszt with the aim of copying the correspondence he maintained with her husband, who had died in 1856. Liszt responded that he hadn’t saved any of the letters. That essentially ended all interaction between them.
45 years earlier, in 1839, Schumann completed his “Fantasie in C major,” during an imposed separation from his future wife. Clara’s father, Schumann’s piano teacher, flew into a rage when he discovered their relationship and forbade any further contact between them. (Clara had not yet reached her majority and had no say in the matter.) Following a protracted and acrimonious legal battle, the court found in favor of the young lovers, and the two married the day before Clara turned 21 – at which age she could have done as she pleased!
Schumann wrote to Clara about the “Fantasie,” “The first movement is the most passionate I have ever composed; it is a profound lament on your account.”
Ironically, it was Liszt who received the dedication. Liszt returned the favor by dedicating his own Piano Sonata in B minor to Schumann in 1854.
Clara confided to her diary, “Today, Liszt sent me a Sonata dedicated to Robert and some more pieces, together with a polite note. But those pieces are so creepy! Brahms played them to me and I felt really miserable… This is only blind noise – no more healthy thoughts, everything is confused, one cannot see any clear harmonies! And, what is more, I still have to thank him now – this is really awful.”
Of course, Robert, at 44, had already lost his grip on sanity and was by then confined to an asylum.
With that in mind, on Robert Schumann’s birthday, enjoy his Fantasy in C major.
Henry Daniell, one of Hollywood’s most supercilious villains, hilariously cast as Liszt in “Song of Love” (1947), with Katharine Hepburn as Clara Schumann and Paul Henreid as Robert. As if this weren’t ridiculous enough, Robert Walker plays Brahms!
Hepburn pantomimes selections from Schumann’s “Carnaval.” That’s Arthur Rubinstein on the soundtrack.
Van Cliburn in concert, playing Liszt’s transcription of Schumann’s “Widmung,” written as a wedding present for Clara.
Happy birthday, Robert Schumann!
“Sweetness and Light” streams on KWAX Saturday mornings at 11:00 EDT/8:00 PDT.
It’s Franz Liszt’s birthday, and I usually give him a pretty good write-up, since on top of all his musical achievements – his innovations, his influence, and his transcendental technique – he also happened to be a pretty good guy, if not without his foibles. In particular, he was exceptionally generous, often engaged in charitable causes and championing the needy, whether they be pupils, colleagues, or anonymous victims of disaster, and he always did so quietly and with the greatest humility. In a lot of ways, he also basically changed music, though it was often the case that others implemented or assimilated his original ideas with greater success.
Of course, as was the case with any Romantic virtuoso, there was also a whiff of diablerie about his reputation.
If you want to check out some of my previous posts on the subject, you can search Facebook under “Classic Ross Amico Liszt.” If you have the option to click on “photos” under the search bar, it could bring many of them up in a conveniently browsable form. Then just click on the photos for the texts.
Sadly, I’ve got a lot to do today, so I must sheepishly defer to a silly cartoon. I love Liszt, and that’s a fact.
You can learn more about his “Mephisto Waltzes” here:
As an animal lover, I’ve always had a soft spot for St. Francis of Assisi. (Also, I was fortunate enough to visit his hometown before the devastating earthquakes of 1997.)
Today is Saint Francis’ feast day. This is a saint who was never too busy to chat with the birds or to befriend a wolf. He introduced the crèche to Christmas, complete with livestock. He even lobbied for a special law so that people would provide for the birds and the beasts. How could you not love this guy?
Regardless of one’s creed, no one, I should think, would take umbrage at the idea of love and respect for the natural world. Take a moment today to be kind to the animals. Hug your pet. Water the birds. Let a cricket out of the house. Bless all animals! Then enjoy some of the music below.
Franz Liszt’s “Saint Francis of Assisi Preaching to the Birds” (piano)
Liszt’s “Saint Francis of Assisi Preaching to the Birds” (orchestra)
Francis Poulenc’s “Quatre petites prières de saint François d’Assise”
Paul Hindemith’s “Nobilissima Visione” (suite, conducted by the composer)
