SKU: CF.PL1056
ISBN 9781491153390. UPC: 680160910892. Transcribed by Franz Liszt.
Introduction It is true that Schubert himself is somewhat to blame for the very unsatisfactory manner in which his admirable piano pieces are treated. He was too immoderately productive, wrote incessantly, mixing insignificant with important things, grand things with mediocre work, paid no heed to criticism, and always soared on his wings. Like a bird in the air, he lived in music and sang in angelic fashion. --Franz Liszt, letter to Dr. S. Lebert (1868) Of those compositions that greatly interest me, there are only Chopin's and yours. --Franz Liszt, letter to Robert Schumann (1838) She [Clara Schumann] was astounded at hearing me. Her compositions are really very remarkable, especially for a woman. There is a hundred times more creativity and real feeling in them than in all the past and present fantasias by Thalberg. --Franz Liszt, letter to Marie d'Agoult (1838) Chretien Urhan (1790-1845) was a Belgian-born violinist, organist and composer who flourished in the musical life of Paris in the early nineteenth century. According to various accounts, he was deeply religious, harshly ascetic and wildly eccentric, though revered by many important and influential members of the Parisian musical community. Regrettably, history has forgotten Urhan's many musical achievements, the most important of which was arguably his pioneering work in promoting the music of Franz Schubert. He devoted much of his energies to championing Schubert's music, which at the time was unknown outside of Vienna. Undoubtedly, Urhan was responsible for stimulating this enthusiasm in Franz Liszt; Liszt regularly heard Urhan's organ playing in the St.-Vincent-de-Paul church in Paris, and the two became personal acquaintances. At eighteen years of age, Liszt was on the verge of establishing himself as the foremost pianist in Europe, and this awakening to Schubert's music would prove to be a profound experience. Liszt's first travels outside of his native provincial Hungary were to Vienna in 1821-1823, where his father enrolled him in studies with Carl Czerny (piano) and Antonio Salieri (music theory). Both men had important involvements with Schubert; Czerny (like Urhan) as performer and advocate of Schubert's music and Salieri as his theory and composition teacher from 1813-1817. Curiously, Liszt and Schubert never met personally, despite their geographical proximity in Vienna during these years. Inevitably, legends later arose that the two had been personal acquaintances, although Liszt would dismiss these as fallacious: I never knew Schubert personally, he was once quoted as saying. Liszt's initial exposure to Schubert's music was the Lieder, what Urhan prized most of all. He accompanied the tenor Benedict Randhartinger in numerous performances of Schubert's Lieder and then, perhaps realizing that he could benefit the composer more on his own terms, transcribed a number of the Lieder for piano solo. Many of these transcriptions he would perform himself on concert tour during the so-called Glanzzeit, or time of splendor from 1839-1847. This publicity did much to promote reception of Schubert's music throughout Europe. Once Liszt retired from the concert stage and settled in Weimar as a conductor in the 1840s, he continued to perform Schubert's orchestral music, his Symphony No. 9 being a particular favorite, and is credited with giving the world premiere performance of Schubert's opera Alfonso und Estrella in 1854. At this time, he contemplated writing a biography of the composer, which regrettably remained uncompleted. Liszt's devotion to Schubert would never waver. Liszt's relationship with Robert and Clara Schumann was far different and far more complicated; by contrast, they were all personal acquaintances. What began as a relationship of mutual respect and admiration soon deteriorated into one of jealousy and hostility, particularly on the Schumann's part. Liszt's initial contact with Robert's music happened long before they had met personally, when Liszt published an analysis of Schumann's piano music for the Gazette musicale in 1837, a gesture that earned Robert's deep appreciation. In the following year Clara met Liszt during a concert tour in Vienna and presented him with more of Schumann's piano music. Clara and her father Friedrich Wieck, who accompanied Clara on her concert tours, were quite taken by Liszt: We have heard Liszt. He can be compared to no other player...he arouses fright and astonishment. His appearance at the piano is indescribable. He is an original...he is absorbed by the piano. Liszt, too, was impressed with Clara--at first the energy, intelligence and accuracy of her piano playing and later her compositions--to the extent that he dedicated to her the 1838 version of his Etudes d'execution transcendante d'apres Paganini. Liszt had a closer personal relationship with Clara than with Robert until the two men finally met in 1840. Schumann was astounded by Liszt's piano playing. He wrote to Clara that Liszt had played like a god and had inspired indescribable furor of applause. His review of Liszt even included a heroic personification with Napoleon. In Leipzig, Schumann was deeply impressed with Liszt's interpretations of his Noveletten, Op. 21 and Fantasy in C Major, Op. 17 (dedicated to Liszt), enthusiastically observing that, I feel as if I had known you twenty years. Yet a variety of events followed that diminished Liszt's glory in the eyes of the Schumanns. They became critical of the cult-like atmosphere that arose around his recitals, or Lisztomania as it came to be called; conceivably, this could be attributed to professional jealousy. Clara, in particular, came to loathe Liszt, noting in a letter to Joseph Joachim, I despise Liszt from the depths of my soul. She recorded a stunning diary entry a day after Liszt's death, in which she noted, He was an eminent keyboard virtuoso, but a dangerous example for the young...As a composer he was terrible. By contrast, Liszt did not share in these negative sentiments; no evidence suggests that he had any ill-regard for the Schumanns. In Weimar, he did much to promote Schumann's music, conducting performances of his Scenes from Faust and Manfred, during a time in which few orchestras expressed interest, and premiered his opera Genoveva. He later arranged a benefit concert for Clara following Robert's death, featuring Clara as soloist in Robert's Piano Concerto, an event that must have been exhilarating to witness. Regardless, her opinion of him would never change, despite his repeated gestures of courtesy and respect. Liszt's relationship with Schubert was a spiritual one, with music being the one and only link between the two men. That with the Schumanns was personal, with music influenced by a hero worship that would aggravate the relationship over time. Nonetheless, Liszt would remain devoted to and enthusiastic for the music and achievements of these composers. He would be a vital force in disseminating their music to a wider audience, as he would be with many other composers throughout his career. His primary means for accomplishing this was the piano transcription. Liszt and the Transcription Transcription versus Paraphrase Transcription and paraphrase were popular terms in nineteenth-century music, although certainly not unique to this period. Musicians understood that there were clear distinctions between these two terms, but as is often the case these distinctions could be blurred. Transcription, literally writing over, entails reworking or adapting a piece of music for a performance medium different from that of its original; arrangement is a possible synonym. Adapting is a key part of this process, for the success of a transcription relies on the transcriber's ability to adapt the piece to the different medium. As a result, the pre-existing material is generally kept intact, recognizable and intelligible; it is strict, literal, objective. Contextual meaning is maintained in the process, as are elements of style and form. Paraphrase, by contrast, implies restating something in a different manner, as in a rewording of a document for reasons of clarity. In nineteenth-century music, paraphrasing indicated elaborating a piece for purposes of expressive virtuosity, often as a vehicle for showmanship. Variation is an important element, for the source material may be varied as much as the paraphraser's imagination will allow; its purpose is metamorphosis. Transcription is adapting and arranging; paraphrasing is transforming and reworking. Transcription preserves the style of the original; paraphrase absorbs the original into a different style. Transcription highlights the original composer; paraphrase highlights the paraphraser. Approximately half of Liszt's compositional output falls under the category of transcription and paraphrase; it is noteworthy that he never used the term arrangement. Much of his early compositional activities were transcriptions and paraphrases of works of other composers, such as the symphonies of Beethoven and Berlioz, vocal music by Schubert, and operas by Donizetti and Bellini. It is conceivable that he focused so intently on work of this nature early in his career as a means to perfect his compositional technique, although transcription and paraphrase continued well after the technique had been mastered; this might explain why he drastically revised and rewrote many of his original compositions from the 1830s (such as the Transcendental Etudes and Paganini Etudes) in the 1850s. Charles Rosen, a sympathetic interpreter of Liszt's piano works, observes, The new revisions of the Transcendental Etudes are not revisions but concert paraphrases of the old, and their art lies in the technique of transformation. The Paganini etudes are piano transcriptions of violin etudes, and the Transcendental Etudes are piano transcriptions of piano etudes. The principles are the same. He concludes by noting, Paraphrase has shaded off into composition...Composition and paraphrase were not identical for him, but they were so closely interwoven that separation is impossible. The significance of transcription and paraphrase for Liszt the composer cannot be overstated, and the mutual influence of each needs to be better understood. Undoubtedly, Liszt the composer as we know him today would be far different had he not devoted so much of his career to transcribing and paraphrasing the music of others. He was perhaps one of the first composers to contend that transcription and paraphrase could be genuine art forms on equal par with original pieces; he even claimed to be the first to use these two terms to describe these classes of arrangements. Despite the success that Liszt achieved with this type of work, others viewed it with circumspection and criticism. Robert Schumann, although deeply impressed with Liszt's keyboard virtuosity, was harsh in his criticisms of the transcriptions. Schumann interpreted them as indicators that Liszt's virtuosity had hindered his compositional development and suggested that Liszt transcribed the music of others to compensate for his own compositional deficiencies. Nonetheless, Liszt's piano transcriptions, what he sometimes called partitions de piano (or piano scores), were instrumental in promoting composers whose music was unknown at the time or inaccessible in areas outside of major European capitals, areas that Liszt willingly toured during his Glanzzeit. To this end, the transcriptions had to be literal arrangements for the piano; a Beethoven symphony could not be introduced to an unknowing audience if its music had been subjected to imaginative elaborations and variations. The same would be true of the 1833 transcription of Berlioz's Symphonie fantastique (composed only three years earlier), the astonishingly novel content of which would necessitate a literal and intelligible rendering. Opera, usually more popular and accessible for the general public, was a different matter, and in this realm Liszt could paraphrase the original and manipulate it as his imagination would allow without jeopardizing its reception; hence, the paraphrases on the operas of Bellini, Donizetti, Mozart, Meyerbeer and Verdi. Reminiscence was another term coined by Liszt for the opera paraphrases, as if the composer were reminiscing at the keyboard following a memorable evening at the opera. Illustration (reserved on two occasions for Meyerbeer) and fantasy were additional terms. The operas of Wagner were exceptions. His music was less suited to paraphrase due to its general lack of familiarity at the time. Transcription of Wagner's music was thus obligatory, as it was of Beethoven's and Berlioz's music; perhaps the composer himself insisted on this approach. Liszt's Lieder Transcriptions Liszt's initial encounters with Schubert's music, as mentioned previously, were with the Lieder. His first transcription of a Schubert Lied was Die Rose in 1833, followed by Lob der Tranen in 1837. Thirty-nine additional transcriptions appeared at a rapid pace over the following three years, and in 1846, the Schubert Lieder transcriptions would conclude, by which point he had completed fifty-eight, the most of any composer. Critical response to these transcriptions was highly favorable--aside from the view held by Schumann--particularly when Liszt himself played these pieces in concert. Some were published immediately by Anton Diabelli, famous for the theme that inspired Beethoven's variations. Others were published by the Viennese publisher Tobias Haslinger (one of Beethoven's and Schubert's publishers in the 1820s), who sold his reserves so quickly that he would repeatedly plead for more. However, Liszt's enthusiasm for work of this nature soon became exhausted, as he noted in a letter of 1839 to the publisher Breitkopf und Hartel: That good Haslinger overwhelms me with Schubert. I have just sent him twenty-four new songs (Schwanengesang and Winterreise), and for the moment I am rather tired of this work. Haslinger was justified in his demands, for the Schubert transcriptions were received with great enthusiasm. One Gottfried Wilhelm Fink, then editor of the Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung, observed of these transcriptions: Nothing in recent memory has caused such sensation and enjoyment in both pianists and audiences as these arrangements...The demand for them has in no way been satisfied; and it will not be until these arrangements are seen on pianos everywhere. They have indeed made quite a splash. Eduard Hanslick, never a sympathetic critic of Liszt's music, acknowledged thirty years after the fact that, Liszt's transcriptions of Schubert Lieder were epoch-making. There was hardly a concert in which Liszt did not have to play one or two of them--even when they were not listed on the program. These transcriptions quickly became some of his most sough-after pieces, despite their extreme technical demands. Leading pianists of the day, such as Clara Wieck and Sigismond Thalberg, incorporated them into their concert programs immediately upon publication. Moreover, the transcriptions would serve as inspirations for other composers, such as Stephen Heller, Cesar Franck and later Leopold Godowsky, all of whom produced their own transcriptions of Schubert's Lieder. Liszt would transcribe the Lieder of other composers as well, including those by Mendelssohn, Chopin, Anton Rubinstein and even himself. Robert Schumann, of course, would not be ignored. The first transcription of a Schumann Lied was the celebrated Widmung from Myrten in 1848, the only Schumann transcription that Liszt completed during the composer's lifetime. (Regrettably, there is no evidence of Schumann's regard of this transcription, or even if he was aware of it.) From the years 1848-1881, Liszt transcribed twelve of Robert Schumann's Lieder (including one orchestral Lied) and three of Clara (one from each of her three published Lieder cycles); he would transcribe no other works of these two composers. The Schumann Lieder transcriptions, contrary to those of Schubert, are literal arrangements, posing, in general, far fewer demands on the pianist's technique. They are comparatively less imaginative in their treatment of the original material. Additionally, they seem to have been less valued in their day than the Schubert transcriptions, and it is noteworthy that none of the Schumann transcriptions bear dedications, as most of the Schubert transcriptions do. The greatest challenge posed by Lieder transcriptions, regardless of the composer or the nature of the transcription, was to combine the vocal and piano parts of the original such that the character of each would be preserved, a challenge unique to this form of transcription. Each part had to be intact and aurally recognizable, the vocal line in particular. Complications could be manifold in a Lied that featured dissimilar parts, such as Schubert's Auf dem Wasser zu singen, whose piano accompaniment depicts the rocking of the boat on the shimmering waves while the vocal line reflects on the passing of time. Similar complications would be encountered in Gretchen am Spinnrade, in which the ubiquitous sixteenth-note pattern in the piano's right hand epitomizes the ever-turning spinning wheel over which the soprano voice expresses feelings of longing and heartache. The resulting transcriptions for solo piano would place exceptional demands on the pianist. The complications would be far less imposing in instances in which voice and piano were less differentiated, as in many of Schumann's Lieder that Liszt transcribed. The piano parts in these Lieder are true accompaniments for the voice, providing harmonic foundation and rhythmic support by doubling the vocal line throughout. The transcriptions, thus, are strict and literal, with far fewer demands on both pianist and transcriber. In all of Liszt's Lieder transcriptions, regardless of the way in which the two parts are combined, the melody (i.e. the vocal line) is invariably the focal point; the melody should sing on the piano, as if it were the voice. The piano part, although integral to contributing to the character of the music, is designed to function as accompaniment. A singing melody was a crucial objective in nineteenth-century piano performance, which in part might explain the zeal in transcribing and paraphrasing vocal music for the piano. Friedrich Wieck, father and teacher of Clara Schumann, stressed this point repeatedly in his 1853 treatise Clavier und Gesang (Piano and Song): When I speak in general of singing, I refer to that species of singing which is a form of beauty, and which is a foundation for the most refined and most perfect interpretation of music; and, above all things, I consider the culture of beautiful tones the basis for the finest possible touch on the piano. In many respects, the piano and singing should explain and supplement each other. They should mutually assist in expressing the sublime and the noble, in forms of unclouded beauty. Much of Liszt's piano music should be interpreted with this concept in mind, the Lieder transcriptions and opera paraphrases, in particular. To this end, Liszt provided numerous written instructions to the performer to emphasize the vocal line in performance, with Italian directives such as un poco marcato il canto, accentuato assai il canto and ben pronunziato il canto. Repeated indications of cantando,singend and espressivo il canto stress the significance of the singing tone. As an additional means of achieving this and providing the performer with access to the poetry, Liszt insisted, at what must have been a publishing novelty at the time, on printing the words of the Lied in the music itself. Haslinger, seemingly oblivious to Liszt's intent, initially printed the poems of the early Schubert transcriptions separately inside the front covers. Liszt argued that the transcriptions must be reprinted with the words underlying the notes, exactly as Schubert had done, a request that was honored by printing the words above the right-hand staff. Liszt also incorporated a visual scheme for distinguishing voice and accompaniment, influenced perhaps by Chopin, by notating the accompaniment in cue size. His transcription of Robert Schumann's Fruhlings Ankunft features the vocal line in normal size, the piano accompaniment in reduced size, an unmistakable guide in a busy texture as to which part should be emphasized: Example 1. Schumann-Liszt Fruhlings Ankunft, mm. 1-2. The same practice may be found in the transcription of Schumann's An die Turen will ich schleichen. In this piece, the performer must read three staves, in which the baritone line in the central staff is to be shared between the two hands based on the stem direction of the notes: Example 2. Schumann-Liszt An die Turen will ich schleichen, mm. 1-5. This notational practice is extremely beneficial in this instance, given the challenge of reading three staves and the manner in which the vocal line is performed by the two hands. Curiously, Liszt did not use this practice in other transcriptions. Approaches in Lieder Transcription Liszt adopted a variety of approaches in his Lieder transcriptions, based on the nature of the source material, the ways in which the vocal and piano parts could be combined and the ways in which the vocal part could sing. One approach, common with strophic Lieder, in which the vocal line would be identical in each verse, was to vary the register of the vocal part. The transcription of Lob der Tranen, for example, incorporates three of the four verses of the original Lied, with the register of the vocal line ascending one octave with each verse (from low to high), as if three different voices were participating. By the conclusion, the music encompasses the entire range of Liszt's keyboard to produce a stunning climactic effect, and the variety of register of the vocal line provides a welcome textural variety in the absence of the words. The three verses of the transcription of Auf dem Wasser zu singen follow the same approach, in which the vocal line ascends from the tenor, to the alto and to the soprano registers with each verse. Fruhlingsglaube adopts the opposite approach, in which the vocal line descends from soprano in verse 1 to tenor in verse 2, with the second part of verse 2 again resuming the soprano register; this is also the case in Das Wandern from Mullerlieder. Gretchen am Spinnrade posed a unique problem. Since the poem's narrator is female, and the poem represents an expression of her longing for her lover Faust, variation of the vocal line's register, strictly speaking, would have been impractical. For this reason, the vocal line remains in its original register throughout, relentlessly colliding with the sixteenth-note pattern of the accompaniment. One exception may be found in the fifth and final verse in mm. 93-112, at which point the vocal line is notated in a higher register and doubled in octaves. This sudden textural change, one that is readily audible, was a strategic means to underscore Gretchen's mounting anxiety (My bosom urges itself toward him. Ah, might I grasp and hold him! And kiss him as I would wish, at his kisses I should die!). The transcription, thus, becomes a vehicle for maximizing the emotional content of the poem, an exceptional undertaking with the general intent of a transcription. Registral variation of the vocal part also plays a crucial role in the transcription of Erlkonig. Goethe's poem depicts the death of a child who is apprehended by a supernatural Erlking, and Schubert, recognizing the dramatic nature of the poem, carefully depicted the characters (father, son and Erlking) through unique vocal writing and accompaniment patterns: the Lied is a dramatic entity. Liszt, in turn, followed Schubert's characterization in this literal transcription, yet took it an additional step by placing the register of the father's vocal line in the baritone range, that of the son in the soprano range and that of the Erlking in the highest register, options that would not have been available in the version for voice and piano. Additionally, Liszt labeled each appearance of each character in the score, a means for guiding the performer in interpreting the dramatic qualities of the Lied. As a result, the drama and energy of the poem are enhanced in this transcription; as with Gretchen am Spinnrade, the transcriber has maximized the content of the original. Elaboration may be found in certain Lieder transcriptions that expand the performance to a level of virtuosity not found in the original; in such cases, the transcription approximates the paraphrase. Schubert's Du bist die Ruh, a paradigm of musical simplicity, features an uncomplicated piano accompaniment that is virtually identical in each verse. In Liszt's transcription, the material is subjected to a highly virtuosic treatment that far exceeds the original, including a demanding passage for the left hand alone in the opening measures and unique textural writing in each verse. The piece is a transcription in virtuosity; its art, as Rosen noted, lies in the technique of transformation. Elaboration may entail an expansion of the musical form, as in the extensive introduction to Die Forelle and a virtuosic middle section (mm. 63-85), both of which are not in the original. Also unique to this transcription are two cadenzas that Liszt composed in response to the poetic content. The first, in m. 93 on the words und eh ich es gedacht (and before I could guess it), features a twisted chromatic passage that prolongs and thereby heightens the listener's suspense as to the fate of the trout (which is ultimately caught). The second, in m. 108 on the words Betrogne an (and my blood boiled as I saw the betrayed one), features a rush of diminished-seventh arpeggios in both hands, epitomizing the poet's rage at the fisherman for catching the trout. Less frequent are instances in which the length of the original Lied was shortened in the transcription, a tendency that may be found with certain strophic Lieder (e.g., Der Leiermann, Wasserflut and Das Wandern). Another transcription that demonstrates Liszt's readiness to modify the original in the interests of the poetic content is Standchen, the seventh transcription from Schubert's Schwanengesang. Adapted from Act II of Shakespeare's Cymbeline, the poem represents the repeated beckoning of a man to his lover. Liszt transformed the Lied into a miniature drama by transcribing the vocal line of the first verse in the soprano register, that of the second verse in the baritone register, in effect, creating a dialogue between the two lovers. In mm. 71-102, the dialogue becomes a canon, with one voice trailing the other like an echo (as labeled in the score) at the distance of a beat. As in other instances, the transcription resembles the paraphrase, and it is perhaps for this reason that Liszt provided an ossia version that is more in the nature of a literal transcription. The ossia version, six measures shorter than Schubert's original, is less demanding technically than the original transcription, thus representing an ossia of transcription and an ossia of piano technique. The Schumann Lieder transcriptions, in general, display a less imaginative treatment of the source material. Elaborations are less frequently encountered, and virtuosity is more restricted, as if the passage of time had somewhat tamed the composer's approach to transcriptions; alternatively, Liszt was eager to distance himself from the fierce virtuosity of his early years. In most instances, these transcriptions are literal arrangements of the source material, with the vocal line in its original form combined with the accompaniment, which often doubles the vocal line in the original Lied. Widmung, the first of the Schumann transcriptions, is one exception in the way it recalls the virtuosity of the Schubert transcriptions of the 1830s. Particularly striking is the closing section (mm. 58-73), in which material of the opening verse (right hand) is combined with the triplet quarter notes (left hand) from the second section of the Lied (mm. 32-43), as if the transcriber were attempting to reconcile the different material of these two sections. Fruhlingsnacht resembles a paraphrase by presenting each of the two verses in differing registers (alto for verse 1, mm. 3-19, and soprano for verse 2, mm. 20-31) and by concluding with a virtuosic section that considerably extends the length of the original Lied. The original tonalities of the Lieder were generally retained in the transcriptions, showing that the tonality was an important part of the transcription process. The infrequent instances of transposition were done for specific reasons. In 1861, Liszt transcribed two of Schumann's Lieder, one from Op. 36 (An den Sonnenschein), another from Op. 27 (Dem roten Roslein), and merged these two pieces in the collection 2 Lieder; they share only the common tonality of A major. His choice for combining these two Lieder remains unknown, but he clearly recognized that some tonal variety would be needed, for which reason Dem roten Roslein was transposed to C>= major. The collection features An den Sonnenschein in A major (with a transition to the new tonality), followed by Dem roten Roslein in C>= major (without a change of key signature), and concluding with a reprise of An den Sonnenschein in A major. A three-part form was thus established with tonal variety provided by keys in third relations (A-C>=-A); in effect, two of Schumann's Lieder were transcribed into an archetypal song without words. In other instances, Liszt treated tonality and tonal organization as important structural ingredients, particularly in the transcriptions of Schubert's Lieder cycles, i.e. Schwanengesang, Winterreise a...
SKU: PR.11641861SP
UPC: 680160685202.
What?! - my composer colleagues said - A concerto for the piano? It's a 19th century instrument! Admittedly we are in an age when originally created timbres and/or musico-technological formulations are often the modus operandi of a piece. Actually, this Concerto began about two years ago when, during one of my creative jogs, the sound of the uppermost register of the piano mingled with wind chimes penetrated my inner ear. The challenge and fascination of exploring and developing this idea into an orchestral situation determined that some day soon I would be writing a work for piano and orchestra. So it was a very happy coincidence when Mona Golabek phoned to tell me she would like discuss the Ford Foundation commission. After covering areas of aesthetics and compositional styles, we found that we had a good working rapport, and she asked if I would accept the commission. The answer was obvious. Then began the intensive thought process on the stylistic essence and organization of the work. Along with this went a renewed study of idiomatic writing for the piano, of the kind Stravinsky undertook with the violin when he began his Violin Concerto. By a stroke of great fortune, the day in February 1972 that I received official notice from the Ford Foundation of the commission, I also received a letter from the Guggenheim Foundation informing me I had been awarded my second fellowship. With the good graces of Zubin Mehta and Ernest Fleischmann, masters of my destiny as a member of the Los Angeles Philharmonic, I was relieved of my orchestral duties during the Hollywood Bowl season. Thus I was able to go to Europe to work and to view the latest trends in music concentrating in London (the current musical melting pot and showcase par excellence), Oslo, Norway, for the Festival of Scandinavian Music called Nordic Days, and Warsaw, Poland, for its prestigious Autumn Festival. Over half the Concerto was completed in that summer and most of the rest during the 72-73 season with the final touches put on during a month as Resident Scholar at the Rockefeller Foundation's Villa Serbelloni in Bellagio, Italy. So much for the external and environmental influences, except perhaps to mention the birds of Sussex in the first movement, the bells of Arhus (Denmark) in the second movement and the bells of Bellagio at the end of the Concerto. Primary in the conception was the personality of Miss Golabek: she is a wonderfully vital and dynamic person and a real virtuoso. Therefore, the soloist in the Concerto is truly the protagonist; it is she (for once we can do away with the generic he) who unfolds the character and intent of the piece. The first section is constructed in the manner of a recitative - completely unmeasured - with letters and numbers by which the conductor signals the orchestra for its participation. This allows the soloist the freedom to interpret the patterns and control the flow and development of the music. The Concerto is actually in one continuous movement but with three large divisions of sufficiently contrasting character to be called movements in themselves. The first 'movement' is based on a few timbral elements: 1) a cluster of very low pitches which at the beginning are practically inaudibly depressed, and sustained silently by the sostenuto pedal, which causes sympathetic vibrating pitches to ring when strong notes are struck; 2) a single powerful note indicated by a black note-head with a line through it indicating the strongest possible sforzando; 3) short figures of various colors sometimes ominous, sometimes as splashes of light or as elements of transition; 4) trills and tremolos which are the actual controlling organic thread starting as single axial tremolos and gradually expanding to trills of increasingly larger and more powerful scope. The 'movement' begins in quiescent repose but unceasingly grows in energy and tension as the stretching of a string or rubber band. When it can no longer be restrained, it bursts into the next section. The second 'movement,' propelled by the released tension, is a brilliant virtuosic display, which begins with a long solo of wispy percussion, later joined in duet with the piano. Not to be ignored, the orchestra takes over shooting the material throughout all its sections like a small agile bird deftly maneuvering through nothing but air, while the piano counterposes moments of lyricism. The orchestra reaches a climax, thrusting us into the third 'movement' which begins with a cadenza-like section for the piano. This moves gently into an expressive section (expressive is not a negative term to me) in which duets are formed with various instruments. There are fleeting glimpses of remembrances past, as a fragmented recapitulation. One glimpse is hazily expressed by strings and percussion in a moment of simultaneous contrasting levels of activity, a technique of which I have been fond and have utilized in various fixed-free relationships, particularly in my Percussion Concerto, Contextures and Games: Collage No. 1. The second half of the third 'movement; is a large coda - akin to those in Beethoven - which brings about another display of virtuosity, this time gutsy and driving, raising the Concerto to a final climax, the soloist completing the fragmented recapitulation concept as well as the work with the single-note sforzando and low cluster from the very opening of the first movement.
SKU: BT.EMBZ7783
International.
''Learning the piano is so widespread these days and good pianists so numerous that mediocrity on the instrument can no longer be accepted. In effect, the piano must be studied for eight or ten years before performance of a harder piece is attempted. Few can spare the years for this. It takes one hour to play the volume in full. Once it has been mastered, it is enough to set aside for it a little time each day and the difficulties will disappear almost like magic. Playing will become as attractive, accurate, fluent and pearly as that of the best performers.'' This piano method by the French music teacher Charles-Louis Hanon (1819-1900) appeared in 1874, with these introductory wordsaddressed to the realm of pianists. Almost a century and a half later, it remains among the most popular systems of piano tuition all around the world, and Hanon's name has become generic for systematic instrumental methods, even in types of popular music. The Virtuoso Pianist appears as a publication in six languages: English, German, French, Italian, Spanish and Hungarian. The volume in a new, decorative cover is useful to every pianist. Students with a years study behind them will succeed in mastering the exercises. Advanced pianists after working through the exercises will be able to tackle even serious technicaldifficulties. In the volume different forms of technical difficulty are encountered. The exercises may be performed on more than one piano simultaneously, so that students become accustomed to ensemble playing. Das Erlernen des Klavierspiels ist gegenwärtig so sehr verbreitet, und es gibt so viele gute Pianisten, dass wir uns auf diesem Instrument mit Mittelmäßigkeit nicht mehr zufriedengeben können. Das führt dazu, dass acht bis zehn JahreKlavierunterricht erforderlich sind, bevor wir riskieren können, ein schwieriges Stück zu spielen. Es gibt jedoch nur Wenige, die dem Erlernen dieses Instruments so viele Jahre widmen! Man benötigt etwa eine Stunde, um diesen Band voll und ganzdurchzuspielen. Wenn wir uns die Übungen bereits perfekt angeeignet haben, genügt es, sich täglich nur kurze Zeit mit ihm zu beschäftigen, und unsere Schwierigkeiten werden wie von Zauberhandverschwinden: Unser Spiel wird so schön, so akkurat, soleicht und perlend wie das der hervorragendsten Künstler.
SKU: BR.EB-8029
ISBN 9790004174326. 9 x 12 inches.
This series of easy piano music for teaching purposes presents pupils in the lower and lower middle grades with a carefully chosen selection of well-known and lesser-known compositions by important masters. The volumes are deliberately kept small in extent, since it is more stimulating for children to change the teaching material frequently. There are four existing harpsichord books with a total of 226 compositions by Francois Couperin le Grand (1668 -1733). His works are as unknown to pianists as they are famous among harpsichord players. The grace and imaginativeness of his works lend themselves especially well to the sound of the harpsichord, which is why the piano interpretation of works by Couperin, Rameau, Scarlatti and other composers of that time has been categorically rejected. But, after all, the works of Bach and Handel were written for the haipsichord and clavichord, and no one would dare question their intetpretation on the pianoforte. In order to introduce these lmpressionists of the Baroque Era to piano instruction, the editor has added to this series a folio of both Couperin's and Rameau's (EB 8033) music. The selection of the pieces is based on two criteria: 1. relatively modest demands made on technique, 2. various musical forms of expression. The Butterflies and the Windmills are both especially typical of masterful character pieces. The demands made on technique certainly correspond to a level of moderate difficulty. The simplifications made are restricted to the artistically realized twopart accompaniment (eg. p. 4 f. and p. 8 f.) with regard to finger stretch and to the profuse ornamentation of the original. The indications for phrasing and articulation are those of the editor. The first two pieces have been precisely elaborated on in this respect to serve as a model, whereas the remaining pieces contain only suggestions. As in other folios of this series; what is here to be stressed, is the importance of working out independently the phrasing and the dynamics. Directions for this are given by the respective footnotes; these directions, however, are not obligatory. lndications pertaining to dynamics and tempo have been omitted completely; the clearly recognizable character of the individual pieces should be direction enough. The tonal possibilities of the piano should in any case be used subtly. The very precise fingerings have been adapted to the suggested phrasings and to the corresponding realization of trills (according to the table). Heinz Walter, Salzburg, Spring 1980.
SKU: ST.0011
ISBN 9790220200069.
Ideally, a piano pupil should learn the treble and bass clefs simultaneously, absorbing both without difficulty. There is, however, an increasing number of children and adults, including students at training colleges, who begin piano lessons with a working knowledge of the treble clef but who are entirely ignorant of the bass.Many have gained their knowledge of the treble, but not the bass clef, in good singing and aural training classes at school; others, and there are many of them, play the recorder, whilst violinists and players of various wind instruments are in the same position when they learn the piano for the first time.It frequently happens, too, that piano pupils, and not only young children, are prompted by musical curiosity to read enthusiastically anything written in the treble clef fluently, but the bass clef lags far behind.For all those people mentioned above, it is an urgent matter to learn the bass clef thoroughly and quickly, in as musical and interesting way as possible, and it is for them that this book is intended. A spell of concentrated work upon the bass clef alone can work wonders.[Maisie Aldridge].
SKU: FG.55011-602-3
ISBN 9790550116023.
Ann-Elise Hannikainen (1946-2012) was born in Hanko, Southern Finland, but lived mainly abroad, her father working as diplomat. Her grandfather's father was P.J. Hannikainen, the head of a prominent Finnish musical family. Ann-Elise's attraction to music was first found at age of five, when her family, then living in Warsaw, bought a grand piano. Hannikainen started to study piano playing at the Sibelius Academy in 1967, but rheumatoid arthritis prevented her from pursuing a carrier as a concert pianist. In 1972 she moved to Madrid and started to study composition with Ernesto Halffter Ercriche, a student of Manuel de Falla. Hannikainen advanced quickly in her career, and her piano concerto was premiered in Helsinki Festival in 1976. Her composing style evolved into luminous melodies, free atonal harmonies and improvisatory forms. Hannikainen wrote the two piano pieces Pensamientos 1974 (1974) and Toccata-fantasia (1975) in El Escorial. The first one carries features typical for piano writing of the Late Romantic, whereas the playful and improvisatory Toccata-fantasia gives a neoclassical impression.
SKU: HL.49046062
ISBN 9781540041425. UPC: 888680899875. 9.0x12.0x0.095 inches.
Troika is a Russian word meaning 'set of three' or a 'sled pulled by three horses.' In many places in the score there are three rhythmic layers working at different speeds to create a sense of forward motion. Sometimes these layers create a sense of a headlong rush, at other points the music glides along gently. The pianist may find places in the score that evoke other aspects of a troika ride: the winter wind, snow flurries, sleigh bells, horses galloping in tandem, bumps in the path, stars, or perhaps even a moonrise. The work is in three sections with a final coda that repeats material from the opening.Pedaling guidelines are included at various points in the piece. Performers may wish to nuance these in order to fit their individual interpretation.- Gregory SpearsTroika is a Russian word meaning 'set of three' or a 'sled pulled by three horses.' Throughout the piece there are three rhythmic layers working at different speeds to create a sense of forward motion. Sometimes these layers create a sense of a headlong rush, at other points the music glides along gently. The pianist may find places in the score that evoke other aspects of a troika ride: the winter wind, snow flurries, sleigh bells, horses galloping in tandem, bumps in the path, stars, or perhaps even a moonrise.
SKU: HL.49042462
ISBN 9783795794637. German - English.
Carl Maria von Weber's fame rests mainly on 'Der Freischutz'. The unprecedented success of this opera overshadowed all his other works and contributed to their increasing fall into oblivion. Certain works such as 'Preciosa', 'Oberon', and 'Euryanthe', the overtures, solo concertos and piano sonatas, the lieder and chamber works enjoyed great popularity and were widely known in Germany and abroad as late as the second half of the 19th century. However, any chance of a revival of Weber's influential and substantial oeuvre was wasted in the 1920s, when a complete edition - begun by Hans Joachim Moser and with potential contributors including Wilhelm Kempff, Hans Pfitzner, Max von Schillings, Fritz Stein and Richard Strauss - failed after the third volume.Ever since there have been numerous attempts to restart a complete edition of Weber's works, but as this kind of project would have required the co-operation of scholars from both sides of the inter-German border, the political situation after 1945 was not conducive to any such enterprise. Careful negotiations led to the first tangible steps in the 1980s. The intention, right from the beginning, was to place Weber's work in context, and not to separate his musical output from his influential work as a writer, critic and organiser in the musical field, but to publish his compositions together with his letters, diaries and other literary output as the best way to document the cross-fertilisation between his musical, literary and practical activities.Since the German re-unification both working-parties concerned - at the Staatsbibliothek zu Berlin, and at the Musikwissenschaftliches Seminar, Detmold/Paderborn - have co-operated on the complete edition of the musical works (c. 45 volumes in 10 series: sacred music; cantatas, odes and other occasional works; stage works; lieder and vocal works; orchestral works; chamber music; music for piano; piano reductions; miscellanea, arrangements and orchestrations; works of doubtful attribution). The diaries (6-8 vols.) are edited in Berlin and the letters (8-10 vols.) and other writings (2 vols.) in Detmold. This complete edition aims to be a reliable basis of scholarly debate as well as for the authentic performance practice of Carl Maria von Weber's music. Conforming to the standards of recent historico-critical editions, the textual material will be based on all available authentic sources, accompanied by a detailed documentation of the genesis and a list of variants for each work. The musicological importance of the works will be evaluated by placing them in their historical context, the presentation of their genesis, history and Critical Commentaries. The letters, writings and diaries will be treated as inter-related and relevant to each other in the commentaries, therefore readers should benefit from a wealth of concise information and cross-references.
SKU: BR.EB-8033
ISBN 9790004174364. 9 x 12 inches.
This series of easy piano music for teaching purposes presents pupils in the lower and lower middle grades with a carefully chosen selection of well-known and lesser-known compositions by important masters. The volumes are deliberately kept small in extant, since it is more stimulating for children to change the teaching material frequently. Jean-Philippe Rameau (1683-1764) is the second great keyboard master of the Baroque Age next to Couperin. His works are as unknown to pianists, with few exceptions, as they are famous among harpsichord players. The virtuosity and imaginativeness of his works lend themselves especially well to the sound of harpsichord, which is why the piano interpretation of works by Couperin, Rameau, Scarlatti and other composers of that time has been categorically rejected. But, after all, the works of Bach and Handel were written for the harpsichord and clavichord, and no one would dare question their interpretation on the pianoforte. In order to introduce these Impressionists of the Baroque Era to piano instructions, the editor has added to this series a folio of both Couperin's (EB 8029) and Rameau's music. The selection of the pieces is based on two criteria: 1. relatively modest demands made on technique, 2. various musical forms of expression. Baroque dance forms and graceful character pieces (LaJoyeuse, L'Indifferente) are typical ofRameau's work. Simplifications to a small extent of the harpsichord setting and also of the omamentation in the original version were required, based on the teaching experience of the editor. The indications for phrasing and articulation are those of the editor. The Minuet on page 6 has been precisely elaborated on in this respect to serve as a model, whereas the remaining pieces contain only suggestions. As in other folios of this series: what is here to be stressed, is the importance of working out independently the phrasing and the dynamics. Directions for this are given by the espective footnotes; these directions, however, are not obligatory. Indications pertaining to dynamics and tempo have been omitted completely; the clearly recognizable character of the individual pieces should be direction enough. The tonal possibilities of the piano should in any case by used subtly. The very precise fingerings have been adapted to the suggested phrasings and to the corresponding realisation of trills (according to the table). Heinz Walter, Salzburg, Spring 1980.
SKU: BR.EB-6734
ISBN 9790004169360. 9 x 12 inches.
This series of easy piano pieces for teaching purposes presents pupils in the early and early-middle stages with a careful selection from well-known and less-known compositions by important masters. The individual volumes are deliberately kept small in compass, since it is more stimulating for children if the literature used for instruction is changed frequently. Between 1795 and 1802, Beethoven composed a large number of German dances, contredances and minuets. He made simple piano reductions of a considerable proportion of these occasional compositions. The selection of the present pieces was made on the basis of the compositions that seemed most suitable for the piano. The piano arrangements are based on the scores and the original piano reductions, and the marks of interpretation have been retained. The working-out of more finely-differentiated interpretations is left to the performer studying the pieces. These grateful little pieces are equally suitable as studies and as recital pieces. Heinz Walter, Salzburg, Fall 1974.
SKU: BT.MUSAM982861
ISBN 9781846090561.
The French superstar with a recording career that stretches from the mid-seventies to the present day. Clayderman's romantic Piano solos and irresistible melodies have enchanted audiences and Piano fans for many years, andthisbook of Piano solos features his best-loved melodies, as well as transcriptions of of his own reworkings of popular classics. Includes Don't Cry For Me Argentina and All By Myself.
This book is speciallyproducedwith Lay-Flat pages that are designed to sit easily at the Piano.
SKU: HL.14029179
ISBN 9788774551904. 8.25x11.75x0.072 inches.
Ludwig Schytte (1848-1909) was a Danish composer and pianist, who spent most of his life living and working in Germany and Austria. Born in Jutland, he studied with Franz Liszt before settling in Vienna, where he taught for twenty years. He wrote around 175 works with opus numbers, most of which were published in his lifetime, including two operas and a Piano concerto. Most of his compositions were shorter works for the Piano, and many of his pedagogical studies are still used today.
25 Studies For Piano (25 Leichte Etuden Fur Pianoforte; Op. 160) was published in 1908, making it one of the composer's last works. It has remained popular withPiano teachers and students for over a century.
SKU: HL.48188884
UPC: 888680873332. 9.0x12.0x0.21 inches.
Italian composer, Domenico Scarlatti (1685-1757) is well-known for his Keyboard compositions. His 555 Keyboard Sonatas remain ever popular to this day, and it is for this reason that this first volume of Selected Sonatas is indispensable to performers of the genre. Originally composed for the Harpsichord, Organ or early Pianoforte, the sonatas display the riveting use of discords and unconventional modulations to remote keys. It is also thought that much of Scarlatti's Keyboard music contains influences of Iberian music, considering that he spent much of his working life in the service of the Spanish and Portuguese royal families. The first volume of Selected Sonatas, compiled by Kenneth Gilbert, includes many of the popular and recognised sonatas. Bearing in mind that Domenico Scarlatti was a highly competent and popular Keyboard player in his day, so much so that he was employed in the service of two royal families, his sonatas are composed with much experience, understanding and expertise, creating an essential addition to the repertoire of all Keyboard players of the Baroque genre. .
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