There is no definite programme to Liszt's Festklaenge. Several probing
ones have been hot on the trail of such a thing. Pohl knew but would
not tell. He wrote: "This work is the most intimate of the entire group.
It stands in close relation with some personal experiences of the
composer--something which we will not define more clearly here. For this
reason Liszt himself has offered no elucidation to the work, and we must
respect his silence. The mood of the work is 'Festlich'--it is the
rejoicing after a victory of--the heart."
This is mysterious and sentimental enough to satisfy any conservatory
maiden. But Liszt died eventually, and then Pohl intimates that the
incident which this composition was meant to glorify was the marriage of
Liszt with the Princess Sayn-Wittgenstein--a marriage which never came
off.
Philip Hale has taken up the question in his interesting Boston Symphony
Programme Notes, and summons several witnesses: "Brendel said that this
symphonic poem is a sphinx that no one can understand. Mr. Barry, who
takes a peculiarly serious view of all things musical, claims that
Festival Sounds, Sounds of Festivity or Echoes of a Festival is the
portrayal in music of scenes that illustrate some great national
festival; that the introduction, with its fanfares, gives rise to strong
feelings of expectation. There is a proclamation, 'The festival has
begun,' and he sees the reception of guests in procession. The event is
great and national--a coronation--something surely of a royal character;
and there is holiday making until the 'tender, recitative-like period'
hints at a love scene; guests, somewhat stiff and formal, move in the
dance; in the finale the first subject takes the form of a national
anthem.
"Some have thought that Liszt composed the piece in honour of the
fiftieth anniversary of the entrance into Weimar of his friend and
patroness Maria Paulowna, sister of the Czar Nicholas I, Grand Duchess
of Weimar. The anniversary was celebrated with pomp November 9, 1854, as
half a century before the noble dame was greeted with Schiller's lyric
festival play Die Huldigung der Kuenste.
"This explanation is plausible; but Lina Ramann assures us that
Festklaenge was intended by Liszt as the wedding music for himself and
the Princess Carolyne Sayn-Wittgenstein; that in 1851 it seemed as
though the obstacles to the union would disappear; that this music was
composed as 'a song of triumph over hostile machinations'; 'bitterness
and anguish are forgotten in proud rejoicing'; the introduced
'Polonaise' pictures the brilliant mind of the Polish princess."
When this symphonic poem was first played in Vienna there were
distributed handbills written by "Herr K.," that the hearers might find
reasonable pleasure in the music. One of the sentences goes bounding
through the universe as follows: "A great universal and popular festival
calls within its magic circle an agitated crowd, joy on the brow, heaven
in the breast."
In whichever class you choose to place the Festklaenge--whether in that
of a higher grade of wedding music or as music incidental to some
national event--you are apt to find contradictions in the music itself.
So it is most reasonable to waive the entire question of a programme
here, and take the music at its word. It must be admitted that this
composition is not among Liszt's great ones; the big swing is missing
and honesty compels the acknowledgment that much of it is blank bombast,
some of it tawdry.
The introductory allegro is devoted to some tympani thumps--a la
Meyerbeer--and some blaring fanfares which terminate in a loud, blatant
theme.
Then comes the andante with the principal subject of the work, meant to
be impressive, but failing in its purpose. The mood changes and grows
humourous, which again is contrasted by the following rather melancholy
allegretto. This latter spot would serve to knock some of the festival
programme ideas into a cocked hat.
The work eventually launches into a polonaise, and until the close Liszt
busies himself with varying the character and rhythms of the foregoing
themes. Finally the martial prevails again, decorated with fanfares, and
thus the composition closes.
Festklaenge had its first performance at Weimar in 1854; but the composer
made some changes in the later edition that appeared in 1861, and this
version is the one usually played to-day.
A Liszt work which we seldom hear is "Choere zu Herder's 'Entfesselte
Prometheus,'" which was composed and performed in Weimar in 1850.
On August 25 of that year there was a monument unveiled to Johann
Gottfried Herder in Weimar, and the memory of the "apostle of humanity"
was also celebrated in the theatre. This accounts for the composition of
the symphonic poem Prometheus, which served as an overture to these
choruses, written for voices and orchestra. Richard Pohl has put the
latter into shape for solitary performance in the concert room.
Prometheus sits manacled on the rock, but the fury of his rebellion is
over. Resolutely he awaits the decree of fate. At this point the Liszt
work takes up the narrative. The Titan is soliloquising, while man,
aided by the gift of fire, is calmly possessing the world. The elemental
spirits look enviously at the power of man and turn to Prometheus with
plaints; the Daughters of the Sea lament that the holy peace of the sea
is disturbed by man, who sails the water imperiously. Prometheus answers
Okeanus philosophically that everything belongs to every one.
Then the chorus of the Tritons glorifies the socialistic Titan with
"Heil Prometheus." This dies away to make room for the grumbling of
All-Mother Erda and her dryads, who bring charge against the fire giver.
An answer comes from the bucolic chorus of reapers and their brothers
the vintagers, who chant the praise of "Monsieur" Bacchus.
From the under world comes the sound of strife, and Hercules arises as
victor. Prometheus recognises him as the liberator, and the Sandow of
mythology breaks the Titan's fetters and slays the hovering eagle of
Zeus. The freed Prometheus turns to the rocks on which he has sat
prisoner so long and asks that in gratitude for his liberty a paradise
arise there. Pallas Athene respects the wish, and out of the naked rock
sprouts an olive tree.
A chorus of the Invisible Ones invites Prometheus to attend before the
throne of Themis. She intercedes in his behalf against his accusers, and
the Chorus of Humanity celebrates her judgment in the hymn which closes
"Heil Prometheus! Der Menschheit Heil!" Some of the thematic material
for these choruses and orchestral interludes is borrowed from the
symphonic poem Prometheus.
Liszt wrote a preface to Heroide Funebre, his eighth poem (1849-1850;
1856.) Among other things he declares that "Everything may change in
human societies--manners and cult, laws and ideas; sorrow remains always
one and the same, it remains what it has been from the beginning of
time. It is for art to throw its transfiguring veil over the tomb of the
brave--to encircle with its golden halo the dead and the dying, in order
that they may be envied by the living." Liszt incorporated with this
poem a fragment from his Revolutionary Symphony outlined in 1830.
Hungaria (1854; 1857) and Hamlet (1858; 1861) the ninth and tenth poems
are not of marked interest or novel character--that is when compared to
their predecessors. There is a so-called poem, From the Cradle to the
Grave, the thirteenth in the series, one which did not take seriously.
It is quite brief. But let us consider the eleventh and twelfth of the
series.