LISZT IN RUSSIA

"Liszt visited Russia for the first time in 1842," writes Rose Newmarch.

"I do not know whether this journey was part of the original scheme of

his great two years' tour on the continent (1840-1842), or if he only

yielded to the pressing invitations of several influential Russian

friends. Early in 1839, among the many concerts which he gave in Rome,

none was more brilliant than the recital organised by the famous

Russian amateur, Count Bielgorsky, at the house of Prince Galitsin,

Governor-General of Moscow, who was wintering in the Italian capital.

During the following year, Liszt spent three days at Ems, where he was

presented to the Empress Alexandra Feodorovna, to whom he played every

evening during his brief visit. The Empress was fascinated by his

genius, and enjoined him to visit Russia without delay.

"The phenomenal success of the twenty-two concerts which Liszt gave in

Berlin during the winter of 1841-1842, soon became a subject of gossip

in Petersburg, and his arrival was awaited with unprecedented

excitement. He reached the capital early in April, and was almost

immediately presented to Nicholas I. On entering the audience chamber,

the Emperor, ignoring the presence of numerous generals and high

officials who were awaiting an audience, went straight to Liszt saying,

"Monsieur Liszt, I am delighted to see you in Petersburg," and

immediately engaged him in conversation. A day or two later, on the 8th

of April, Liszt gave his first concert in the Salle de la Noblesse,

before an audience of three thousand people. This concert was both a

novel and an important event in Russia. Not only was it the first

recital ever heard there--for before Liszt's day, no single artist had

attempted to hold the public attention by the spell of his own unaided

gifts--but it was also the first tie in a close and lasting bond between

the great virtuoso and the Russian people. In after years, no one was

quicker to discern the attractive qualities of Russian music, nor more

assiduous in its propagation than Franz Liszt.

"In the memoirs of contemporary Russian writers there are many

interesting references to Liszt's first appearance in Petersburg. Not

only do these reminiscences show the extraordinary glamour and interest

which invested the personality of the master; they throw some light upon

social life in Russia during the first half of the century.

"The brilliant audience which flocked to the Salle de la Noblesse to

hear Liszt, numbered no greater enthusiasts than the two young students

of the School of Jurisprudence, Stassov and Serov. Both were destined to

attain celebrity in after-life; the former as a great critic, and the

chief upholder of national art; the latter, as the composer of at least

one popular opera, and the leading exponent of the Wagnerian doctrines

in Russia. Stassov's reminiscences are highly picturesque. We seem

actually to see the familiar figure of the pianist as he entered the

magnificent Hall of the Nobility, leaning on the arm of Count

Bielgorsky, an "elderly Adonis" and typical dandy of the forties.

Bielgorsky was somewhat inclined to obesity, moved slowly, and stared at

the elegant assemblage with prominent, short-sighted eyes. His hair was

brushed back and curled, after the model of the Apollo Belvedere, while

he wore an enormous white cravat. Liszt also wore a white cravat, and

over it the Order of the Golden Spur, bestowed upon him a short time

previously by the Pope. He was further adorned with various other orders

suspended by chains from the lapels of his dress coat. But that which

struck the Russians most was the great mane of fair hair reaching almost

to his shoulders. Outside the priesthood, no Russian would have ventured

on such a style of hair-dressing. Such dishevelment had been sternly

discountenanced since the time of Peter the Great. Stassov, afterward

one of the warmest admirers of Liszt, both as man and musician, was not

altogether favourably impressed by this first sight of the virtuoso. "He

was very thin, stooped a great deal, and though I had read much about

his famous 'Florentine profile' and his likeness to Dante, I did not

find his face beautiful. I was not pleased with his mania for decking

himself with orders, and afterwards I was as little prepossessed by his

somewhat affected demeanour to those who came in contact with him."

"After the first hush of intense curiosity, the entire assembly began to

discuss Liszt in a subdued murmur. Stassov, who sat close to Glinka and

a well-known pianist--Madame Palibin--caught the following conversation.

Madame Palibin inquired if Glinka had already heard Liszt. He replied

that he had met him the night before at Count Bielgorsky's reception.

'Well, what did you think of him?' Glinka answered, without a moment's

hesitation, that sometimes Liszt played divinely--like no one else in

the world; at other times atrociously, with exaggerated emphasis,

dragging the 'tempi,' and adding--even to the music of Chopin,

Beethoven, and Bach--tasteless embellishments of his own. 'I was

horribly scandalised,' says Stassov. 'What! Did our "mediocre" Russian

musician' (this was Stassov's first sight of Glinka, and a short time

before the appearance of Russlane and Lioudmilla) 'venture thus to

criticise the great genius Liszt, who had turned the heads of all

Europe!' Madame Palibin, too, seemed to disapprove of Glinka's

criticism, and said laughingly, 'Allons donc, tout cela, ce n'est que

rivalite de metier!' Glinka smiled urbanely, shrugged his shoulders, and

replied, 'As you please.'

"At this moment Liszt mounted the platform, and, pulling his dog-skin

gloves from his shapely white hands, tossed them carelessly on the

floor. Then, after acknowledging the thunderous applause--such as had

not been heard in Russia for over a century--he seated himself at the

piano. There was a silence as though the whole audience had been turned

to stone, and Liszt, without any prelude, began the opening bars of the

overture to William Tell. Criticism, curiosity, speculation, all were

forgotten in the wonderful enchantment of the performance. Among other

things, he played his fantasia on Don Juan, his arrangements of

Adelaide, and The Erl King, and wound up the recital with his showy

Galop Chromatique.

"'After the concert,' says Stassov, 'Serov and I were like madmen. We

scarcely exchanged a word, but hurried home, each to write down his

impressions, dreams, and raptures. But we both vowed to keep the

anniversary of this day sacred for ever, and never, while life lasted,

to forget a single incident of it. We were like men in love, or

bewitched. What wonder? Never before had we come face to face with such

a gifted, impassioned, almost demoniacal personality as that of Liszt,

who seemed alternately to let loose the forces of the whirlwind, or to

carry us away on a flood of tenderness, grace, and beauty.'

"Serov felt even more strongly the fascination of Liszt's genius. The

same evening he sent to Stassov the following record of his impressions:

'First, let me congratulate you on your initiation into the great

mysteries of art, and then--let me think a little. It is two hours since

I left the Hall, and I am still beside myself. Where am I? Am I

dreaming, or under a spell? Have I indeed heard Liszt? I expected great

things from all the accounts I had heard, and still more from a kind of

inward conviction--but how far the reality surpassed my expectations!

Happy, indeed, are we to be living in 1842, at the same time as such an

artist! Fortunate, indeed, that we have been privileged to hear him! I

am gushing a great deal--too much for me, but I cannot contain myself.

Bear with me in this lyrical crisis until I can express myself

calmly.... What a festival it has been! How different everything looks

in God's world to-day! And all this is the work of one man and his

playing! What a power is music! I cannot collect my thoughts--my whole

being seems in a state of abnormal tension, of confused rapture!'

"Do we experience this exaltation nowadays? I think not. Rarely do we

partake of the insane root. Are there no more enchanters like Liszt? Or

has the capacity of such enthusiasm and expansion passed away for ever

with the white stocks, the 'coiffure a l'Apollon Belvedere' and the

frank emotionalism of the early Victorian period?"

Franz Liszt · 第 141 / 236 题