This, the better known of Liszt's two pianoforte concertos, is
constructed along the general lines of the symphonic poem--a species of
free orchestral composition which Liszt himself gave to the world. The
score embraces four sections arranged like the four movements of a
symphony, although their internal development is of so free a nature,
and they are merged one into another in such away as to give to the work
as a whole the character of one long movement developed from several
fundamental themes and sundry subsidiaries derived therefrom. The first
of these themes [this is the theme to which Liszt used to sing, "Das
versteht ihr alle nicht!" but, according to Von Buelow and Ramann, "Ihr
koennt alle nichts!"] appears at the outset, being given out by the
strings with interrupting chords of wood-wind and brass allegro maestoso
leading at once to an elaborate cadenza for the pianoforte. The second
theme, which marks the beginning of the second section--in B major,
Quasi adagio and 12-8 (4-4) time--is announced by the deeper strings
(muted) to be taken up by the solo instrument over flowing left-hand
arpeggios. A long trill for the pianoforte, embellished by expressive
melodies from sundry instruments of the orchestra, leads to the third
section--in F-flat minor, allegretto vivace and 3-4 time--whereupon the
strings give out a sparkling scherzo theme which the solo instrument
proceeds to develop capriciously. This section closes with a pianissimo
cadenza for the pianoforte following which a rhapsodical passage
(Allegro animato) leads to the finale--in E-flat major, Allegro marziale
animato and 4-4 time--in which the second theme reappears transformed
into a spirited march.
The concerto was composed in 1848, revised in 1853, and published in
1857. It was performed for the first time at Weimar during the Berlioz
week, February 16, 1855, when Liszt was the pianist and Berlioz
conducted the orchestra. It is dedicated to Henri Litolff.
Liszt wrote at some length concerning this concerto in a letter to
Eduard Liszt, dated Weimar, March 26, 1857:
"The fourth movement of the concerto from the Allegro marziale
corresponds with the second movement, Adagio. It is only an urgent
recapitulation of the earlier subject-matter with quickened, livelier
rhythm, and contains no new motive, as will be clear to you by a glance
through the score. This kind of _binding together_ and rounding off a
whole piece at its close is somewhat my own, but it is quite maintained
and justified from the stand-point of musical form. The trombones and
basses take up the second part of the motive of the Adagio (B major).
The pianoforte figure which follows is no other than the reproduction of
the motive which was given in the Adagio by flute and clarinet, just as
the concluding passage is a Variante and working up in the major of the
motive of the Scherzo, until finally the first motive on the dominant
pedal B-flat, with a shake-accompaniment, comes in and concludes the
whole.
"The Scherzo in E-flat minor, from the point where the triangle begins,
I employed for the effect of contrast.
"As regards the triangle I do not deny that it may give offence,
especially if struck too strong and not precisely. A preconceived
disinclination and objection to instruments of percussion prevails,
somewhat justified by the frequent misuse of them. And few conductors
are circumspect enough to bring out the rhythmic element in them,
without the raw addition of a coarse noisiness, in works in which they
are deliberately employed according to the intention of the composer.
The dynamic and rhythmic spicing and enhancement, which are effected by
the instruments of percussion, would in more cases be much more
effectually produced by the careful trying and proportioning of
insertions and additions of that kind. But musicians who wish to appear
serious and solid prefer to treat the instruments of percussion _en
canaille_, which must not make their appearance in the seemly company
of the symphony. They also bitterly deplore inwardly that Beethoven
allowed himself to be seduced into using the big drum and triangle in
the Finale of the Ninth Symphony. Of Berlioz, Wagner, and my humble
self, it is no wonder that 'like draws to like,' and, as we are treated
as impotent _canaille_ amongst musicians, it is quite natural that we
should be on good terms with the _canaille_ among the instruments.
Certainly here, as in all else, it is the right thing to seize upon and
hold fast [the] mass of harmony. In face of the most wise proscription
of the learned critics I shall, however, continue to employ instruments
of percussion, and think I shall yet win for them some effects little
known."
"This eulogy of the triangle," Mr. Philip Hale says, "was inspired by
the opposition in Vienna when Pruckner played the concerto in that city
(season of 1856-57). Hanslick cursed the work by characterising it as a
'Triangle Concerto,' and for some years the concerto was therefore held
to be impossible. It was not played again in Vienna until 1869, when
Sophie Menter paid no attention to the advice of the learned and her
well-wishers. Lina Ramann tells the story. Rubinstein, who happened to
be there, said to her: 'You are not going to be so crazy as to play this
concerto? No one has yet had any luck with it in Vienna.' Boesendorfer,
who represented the Philharmonic Society, warned her against it. To
which Sofie replied coolly in her Munich German: 'Wenn i does nit
spielen kann, speil i goar nit--i muss ja nit in Wien spielen' ('if I
can't play it, I don't play at all--I must not play in Vienna'). She did
play it, and with great success.
"Yet the triangle is an old and esteemed instrument. In the eighteenth
century it was still furnished with metal rings, as was its forbear, the
sistrum. The triangle is pictured honourably in the second part of
Michael Praetorius' 'Syntagma musicum' (Part II., plate xxii.,
Wolffenbuettel, 1618). Haydn used it in his military symphony, Schumann
in the first movement of his B-flat symphony; and how well Auber
understood its charm!"