THE CONCERT WILL COMMENCE AT HALF-PAST ONE O'CLOCK
PRECISELY
Tickets, Half-a-Guinea each, to be had of Mr. LISZT, 46,
Great Marlborough Street, and at all the principal
Music Shops.
"Thirteen years elapsed before Liszt again favoured us with his
presence. He had in the meantime passed from boyhood to manhood, from
having been a prodigy to becoming a mature artist. The year was 1840--an
important one, as we shall presently see. He appeared, for the
first time, at the Philharmonic Concert of May 11, 1840, which was
conducted by Sir Henry Bishop. Liszt played his own version of Weber's
Concertstueck in which, according to a contemporary account, 'passages
were doubled, tripled, inverted, and _transmogrified_ in all sorts of
ways.' Be this as it may, the Philharmonic Directors showed their
appreciation of his performance by a presentation, an account of which
appeared in a snappy and short-lived paper called the _Musical Journal_.
Here is the extract:
"'Liszt has been presented by the Philharmonic Society with an elegant
silver breakfast service, for doing that which would cause every young
student to receive a severe reprimand--viz., thumping and partially
destroying two very fine pianofortes. The Society has given this to Mr.
Liszt as a _compliment_ for performing at two of its concerts
_gratuitously_! Whenever did they present an Englishman with a _silver
breakfast service_ for gratuitous performances?'
"The foregoing is written in the strain which characterised the attitude
of a section of the musical press towards the great pianist. His use of
the word 'Recitals' appears to have been as a red rag to those roaring
bulls. The familiar term owes its origin to Liszt's performances. The
late Willert Beale records that his father, Frederick Beale, invented
the designation, and that it was much discussed before being finally
adopted. The advertisement reads thus:
"'LISZT'S PIANOFORTE RECITALS
"'M. Liszt will give at Two o'clock on Tuesday morning, June 9, 1840,
RECITALS on the PIANOFORTE of the following works:--No. 1. Scherzo and
Finale from Beethoven's Pastorale Symphony. No. 2. Serenade, by
Schubert. No. 3. Ave Maria, by Schubert. No. 4. Hexameron. No. 5.
Neapolitan Tarentelles. No. 6. Grand Galop Chromatique. Tickets 10s. 6d.
each; reserved seats, near the Pianoforte, 21s.'
"The 'Recitals'--the plural form of the term will be noticed--took place
at the Hanover Square Rooms, and the piece entitled Hexameron (a set of
variations on the grand march in I Puritani) was the composition of the
following sextet of pianists: Thalberg, Chopin, Herz, Czerny, Pixis, and
Liszt, not exactly 'a _singular_ production,' as the _Musical World_
remarked, but 'an uncommon one.' In connection with the 'Recitals,' Mr.
Salaman may be quoted:
"'I did not hear Liszt again until his visit to London in 1840, when he
puzzled the musical public by announcing "Pianoforte Recitals." This now
commonly accepted term had never previously been used, and people asked,
"What does he mean? How can any one _recite_ upon the pianoforte?" At
these recitals, Liszt, after performing a piece set down in his
programme, would leave the platform, and, descending into the body of
the room, where the benches were so arranged as to allow free
locomotion, would move about among his auditors and converse with his
friends, with the gracious condescension of a prince, until he felt
disposed to return to the piano.'
"The _Musical World_ referred to the 'Recitals' as 'this curious
exhibition'; that the performance was 'little short of a miracle'; and
that the Hexameron contained 'some difficulties of inconceivable
outrageousness.' Another specimen of critical insight may be quoted--it
refers to Liszt's participation in a concert given by John Parry:
"'On being unanimously recalled, he tore the National Anthem to ribbons,
and thereby fogged the glory he had just achieved. Let him eschew such
hyper-erudite monstrosities--let him stick to the 'recital' of sane and
sanative music, and he will attain a reputation above all contemporary
musical _mono_-facturers--and what is more, deserve it.'
"In the autumn of the same year (1840), Liszt formed one of a
concert-party, organised by Lavenu, in a tour in the south of England.
The party included John Parry, the composer of Wanted, a Governess, and
the comic man of the Lavenu troup. Like Mendelssohn, Liszt seems to have
taken to the jocose Parry, and he quite entered into the fun of the
fair. For instance, at Bath, 'in addition to the pieces announced in the
bills, Liszt played an accompaniment to John Parry's Inchape Bell, sung
by the author, in which he introduced an extemporaneous storm, which had
a most terrific effect.' We can well believe it. This storm was not 'a
local disturbance,' as meteorologists would say, but it followed the
party wherever they went, and it was doubtless received with thunderous
applause.
"In November, a second and more extended tour, also under Lavenu's
auspices, was undertaken, and the journey embraced the great provincial
towns of England, Ireland, and Scotland. The preliminary announcement
was couched in terms more or less pungent:
"'Mr. Lavenu with his corps musicale will enter the _lists_ again on the
23d instant, when it is to be hoped the _list_less provinces will
_list_en with more attention than on his last experiment, or he will
have en_list_ed his talented _list_ to very little purpose.'
"Liszt again appeared in London in 1841, and took the town by storm.
Musical critics of the present day may be glad to enlarge their
vocabulary from the following notice, which appeared in the columns of
the _Musical World_ of sixty years ago:
"'M. Liszt's Recitals.--We walk through this world in the midst of so
many wonders, that our senses become indifferent to the most amazing
things: light and life, the ocean, the forest, the voice and flight of
the pigmy lark, are unheeded commonplaces; and it is only when some
comet, some giant, some tiger-tamer, some new Niagara, some winged being
(mental or bodily, and unclassed in the science of ornithology) appears,
that our obdurate faculties are roused into the consciousness that
miracles do exist. Of the miracle genus is M. Liszt, the Polyphemus of
the pianoforte--the Aurora Borealis of musical effulgence--the Niagara
of thundering harmonies! His rapidity of execution, his power, his
delicacy, his Briareus-handed chords, and the extraordinary volume of
sound he wrests from the instrument, are each and all philosophies in
their way that might well puzzle all but a philosopher to unriddle and
explain.'
"Shortly before the 'recitals' above referred to, Liszt was thrown out
of a carriage, and the accident resulted in a sprained wrist. At the
performance, he apologised in French to the audience 'for his inability
to play all the pieces advertised.'
"It is strange, but true, that no less than _forty-five_ years had come
and gone before Liszt again set foot on Albion's shores. In the year
1886, aged seventy-five, he came again, and charmed everybody with the
geniality of his presence.
"It was at the invitation of the late Mr. Henry Littleton (then head of
the firm of Novello & Co.) that Liszt paid his last visit to England in
1886. The great pianist arrived on May 3, and remained under Mr.
Littleton's hospitable roof at Westwood House, Sydenham, during the
whole of his sojourn in this country. The events of those seventeen days
were a series of triumphs to the grand old man of pianists. A command
visit to Windsor Castle, when he played to Queen Victoria; dining with
the Prince and Princess of Wales at Marlborough House; a visit to the
Baroness Burdett Coutts; attending performances of his oratorio St.
Elisabeth (conducted by Sir, then Mr. A. C. Mackenzie) at St. James's
Hall and the Crystal Palace; concerts of Chev. Leonard E. Bach; the
Royal Amateur Orchestral Society (when he was seated next to the king,
then Prince of Wales); Monday Popular; pianoforte recitals by Mr.
Frederic Lamond and Herr Stavenhagen; a visit to the Royal Academy of
Music; in addition to receptions given by his devoted pupil and attached
friend, the late Walter Bache at the Grosvenor Gallery, and the 'at
homes' of his host and hostess at Westwood House.
"As an indication of the general interest aroused by the coming of
Liszt, _Punch_ burst forth in the following strain:
"'A Brilliant Variation.--Mr. and Mrs. Littleton's reception of the Abbe
Franz Liszt, at Westwood House, Saturday night last, was an event never
to be forgotten. But it was not until all the Great 'uns had left the
Littletons that the Greatest of them all sat at the piano in the midst
of a cosy and select circle, and then, when _Mr. P-nch_ had put on his
Liszt slippers ... but to say more were a breach of hospitality.
Suffice it that on taking up his sharp-and-flat candlestick in a
perfectly natural manner the Abbe, embracing _Mr. P-nch_, sobbed out,
"This is the Abbe'ist evening I've ever had. Au plaisir!"--(_Extract
from a Distinguished Guest's Diary. Privately communicated._)'
"Although he was in his seventy-sixth year at the time of this, his last
sojourn in England, his pianoforte technic astonished those who were
capable to form an opinion, and who were amazed that he did not 'smash
the pianoforte, like his pupils!' He was immensely gratified at his
visit, and in parting with Mr. Alfred and Mr. Augustus Littleton, at
Calais, he said: 'If I should live two years longer I will certainly
visit England again!' But alas! a little more than three months after he
had said 'Good-bye' to these friends, Franz Liszt closed his long,
eventful, and truly artistic career at Bayreuth on July 31, 1886.
Professor Niecks said, 'Liszt has lived a noble life. Let us honour his
memory.'"