| 100 Etudes, Exercises and Simple Tonal Phrases Volume 1 Piano seul - Facile Schott
Piano - easy to intermediate SKU: HL.49045014 For Piano. Composed ...(+)
Piano - easy to
intermediate SKU:
HL.49045014 For
Piano. Composed by
Nicholas Lens. This
edition: Saddle
stitching. Sheet music.
Piano. Classical, Etude.
Softcover. 86 pages.
Duration 75'. Schott
Music #ED 22049.
Published by Schott Music
(HL.49045014). ISBN
9790001202114. 9.0x12.0
inches. The Belgian
composer Nicholas Lens
presents extremely varied
etudes, exercises and
simple phrases with
wonderfully telling
titles from poetry and
everyday world for
children and adults. For
the most part the studies
are tonal and simple and
have no constructed line.
They are not based on any
educational concept but
leave the musical
dramatization to the
pupils and teachers:
'Notes and rhythms are
just notes and rhythms,
they do not have that
many rules, they do not
have any pretension, they
are just tools for you to
use to express what you
want to share'. $64.00 - Voir plus => Acheter | | |
| Il Mio Primo Schubert (My First Schubert) - Volume 1 Piano seul Ricordi
Piano Solo. By Franz Schubert. Piano Collection. 20 pages. Published by Ricordi....(+)
Piano Solo. By Franz
Schubert. Piano
Collection. 20 pages.
Published by Ricordi.
$10.95 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 2 to 3 weeks | | |
| Transcriptions of Lieder Piano seul Carl Fischer
Chamber Music Piano SKU: CF.PL1056 Composed by Clara Wieck-Schumann, Fran...(+)
Chamber Music Piano
SKU: CF.PL1056
Composed by Clara
Wieck-Schumann, Franz
Schubert, and Robert
Schumann. Edited by
Nicholas Hopkins.
Collection. With Standard
notation. 128 pages. Carl
Fischer Music #PL1056.
Published by Carl Fischer
Music (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... $32.99 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 1 to 2 weeks | | |
| Russian and Eastern European Piano Music Pt. 2 (Version 2.0)
Piano seul [CD Sheet Music] Subito Music
By russian. For Piano. (Piano Solo). CD Sheet Music (Version 2.0). PDF file on C...(+)
By russian. For Piano.
(Piano Solo). CD Sheet
Music (Version 2.0). PDF
file on CD. 2000 pages.
Published by Subito
Music.
(1)$19.95 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 3 to 5 business days | | |
| The Real Little Classical Fake Book - 2nd Edition Piano seul - Intermédiaire Hal Leonard
Composed by Various. For Piano/Keyboard. Hal Leonard Fake Books. Classical. Diff...(+)
Composed by Various. For
Piano/Keyboard. Hal
Leonard Fake Books.
Classical. Difficulty:
medium to
medium-difficult.
Fakebook. Melody line,
chord names and lyrics
(on some songs). 413
pages. Published by Hal
Leonard
$27.50 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 24 hours - In Stock | | |
| Concerto Piano seul Theodore Presser Co.
Orchestra Piano SKU: PR.11641861SP Composed by William Kraft. Part. 35 pa...(+)
Orchestra Piano SKU:
PR.11641861SP
Composed by William
Kraft. Part. 35 pages.
Duration 21 minutes.
Theodore Presser Company
#116-41861SP. Published
by Theodore Presser
Company (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. $47.99 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 2 to 3 weeks | | |
| Keyboard Strategies Piano seul Schirmer
Master Text II. By Various. Piano Collection. 432 pages. Published by G. Schirme...(+)
Master Text II. By
Various. Piano
Collection. 432 pages.
Published by G. Schirmer,
Inc.
$50.00 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 24 hours - In Stock | | |
| Piano Songs Piano seul Hal Leonard
| | |
| The Great Keyboard Chord Songbook 1 Piano seul Music Sales
| | |
| Lutz Gerlach Piano Solo Piano seul - Facile AMA Verlag
A Kind of Miniatures / Panta Rhei. By Lutz Gerlach. For Piano. Solos. AMA Verlag...(+)
A Kind of Miniatures /
Panta Rhei. By Lutz
Gerlach. For Piano.
Solos. AMA Verlag.
Contemporary. Level:
Beginning-Intermediate.
Book. Size 9x12. 144
pages. Published by AMA
Verlag. ISBN 3899220102.
$19.95 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 1 to 2 weeks | | |
| Joys Forever Book 2 Piano seul Forsyth Publications
| | |
| Debussy Inconnu: Album of works for the piano by Claude Debussy completed by Robert Orledge, Vol. 2 Piano seul - Avancé Musik Fabrik
Piano - Grade 5 SKU: FA.MFCD017B By Nicolas Horvath. By Claude Debussy an...(+)
Piano - Grade 5 SKU:
FA.MFCD017B By
Nicolas Horvath. By
Claude Debussy and Robert
Orledge. Rediscoverd
Debussy. Christmas.
Score. Musik Fabrik
#MFCD017B. Published by
Musik Fabrik
(FA.MFCD017B). 8.27 x
11.69
inches. Contains Le
Roi Lear:
Prelude,Premiere Fanfare,
and La Mort de
Cordelia,Toomai des
elephants, Rodrigue et
Chimene: Prelude a l'acte
1p. Le Martyre de Saint
Sebastien: La Passion ,
and No-ja-li ou Le Palais
du Silence
From
Robert Orledge's
notes:
My interest
in the wonderful music of
Claude Debussy began in
the 1980s when I
researched and published
a book with Cambridge
University Press entitled
Debussy and the Theatre.
During the course of my
studies in Paris, I was
amazed to discover that
Debussy planned over 50
theatrical works but only
finished two of these
entirely by himself (the
opera Pelleas et
Melisande in 1893-1902
and the ballet Jeux for
Diaghilev's Ballets
Russes in 1912-13). Of
the rest, many were never
started musically (like
Siddartha and Orphee-roi
with the Oriental scholar
Victor Segalen, 1907);
some had a few
tantalising sketches
(like the Edgar Allan Poe
opera Le Diable dans le
beffroi, 1902-03); some
were half-finished (like
his other Poe opera La
Chute de la Maison Usher,
1908-17); while others
were musically complete
but had their
orchestrations completed
by other composers (like
Khamma, by Charles
Koechlin, 1912-13; or Le
Martyre de Saint
Sebastien and La Boite a
joujoux by his 'angel of
corrections' ['l'ange des
Corrections'] Andre
Caplet in 1911 and 1919
respectively).
For
it has to be admitted
that what some scholars
call Debussy's
'compulsive achievement'
could equally well be
viewed as laziness,
especially as far as the
minute detail required
for calligraphing his
orchestral scores was
concerned. It was as if
creating the music itself
was of greater importance
than controlling its
final sound, even if
Debussy was an
imaginative orchestrator
when he found the time
and energy to do it. It
also seems true that
Debussy also preferred
inventing ideas to
turning them into
complete pieces. However,
despite the lack of
detail in many of his
sketches (missing clefs,
key signatures, dynamics,
phrasing, etc.) the notes
themselves are
surprisingly accurate,
whether or not they can
be compared with a later
draft. Thus, a large
number of sketches exist
for his Chinese ballet
No-ja-li ou Le Palais du
Silence and it is not too
difficult to see which
parts of Georges de
Feure's 1913 scenario
(see below) inspired
which ideas. But Debussy
hardly made any attempt
to join them together
after the first few
bars.
It was
usually up to his
publisher, Jacques
Durand, to find solutions
when Debussy risked a
breach of contract.
Debussy was supposed to
supervise the
orchestrations completed
by others, but this
supervision was usually
very light and restricted
to quiet, sensitive
moments in which problems
were easier to spot. Far
from jealously guarding
every one of his created
notes, as Ravel did,
Debussy once even went as
far as to ask Koechlin to
'write a ballet for him
that he would sign' on 26
March 1914 when he was
hard-pressed to fulfil
his lucrative contract
for No-ja-li with Andre
Charlot at the Alhambra
Theatre in London. In the
end, Debussy (through
Durand) sent Charlot the
symphonic suite Printemps
instead, whose
orchestration had been
completed by Henri Busser
in the Spring of
1912.
So, when I
was offered early
retirement as Professor
of Music at Liverpool
University in 2004, I
seized the opportunity it
would give me to spend
time trying to
reconstruct some of
Debussy's lost potential
masterpieces from his
existing sketches and
drafts--then
orchestrating them in
Debussy's style when this
was appropriate. I had
begun this mission in
2001 with the most
promising project, the
missing parts of Scene 2
of La Chute de la Maison
Usher and the sheer joy
it gave me at every stage
persuaded me to tackle
other projects,
especially when Debussy
experts were unable to
identify exactly where I
took over from Debussy
(and vice versa) in
Usher. $48.69 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 4 to 6 weeks | | |
| Debussy Inconnu: Album of works for the piano by Claude Debussy completed by Robert Orledge, Vol. 1 Piano seul Musik Fabrik
By Nicolas Horvath. By Robert Orledge and Claude Debussy (1862-1918). Redi...(+)
By Nicolas Horvath. By
Robert Orledge and Claude
Debussy (1862-1918).
Rediscoverd Debussy.
Christmas. Score. Musik
Fabrik #MFCD017A.
Published
by Musik Fabrik
$48.69 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 4 to 6 weeks | | |
| Short Romantic Pieces for Piano Book I Piano seul - Débutant ABRSM Publishing
By ABRSM. For piano. Published by ABRSM (Associated Board of the Royal Schools o...(+)
By ABRSM. For piano.
Published by ABRSM
(Associated Board of the
Royal Schools of Music).
(1)$16.99 - Voir plus => AcheterDélais: 4 to 6 weeks | | |
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