This book, projected in 1902, was at that time announced as a biography
of Liszt. However, a few tentative attacks upon the vast amount of raw
material soon convinced me that to write the ideal life of the Hungarian
a man must be plentifully endowed with time and patience. I preferred,
therefore, to study certain aspects of Liszt's art and character; and as
I never heard him play I have summoned here many competent witnesses to
my aid. Hence the numerous contradictions and repetitions, arguments for
and against Liszt in the foregoing volume, frankly sought for, rather
than avoided. The personality, or, strictly speaking, the various
personalities of Liszt are so mystifying that they would require the
professional services of a half-dozen psychologists to untangle their
complex web. As to his art, I have quoted from many conflicting
authorities, hoping that the reader will evolve from the perhaps
confusing pattern an authentic image of the man and his music. And all
the biographies I have seen--Lina Ramann's, despite its violent parti
pris, is the most complete (an urquell for its successors)--read like
glorified time-tables. Now, no man is a hero to his biographer, but the
practice of jotting down unimportant happenings makes your hero very
small potatoes indeed. An appalling number of pages are devoted to the
arrival and departure of the master at or from Weimar, Rome, or
Budapest. "Liszt left Rome for Budapest at 8.30 A. M., accompanied by
his favourite pupil Herr Fingers," etc.; or, "Liszt returned to Weimar
at 9 P. M., and was met at the station by the Baroness W. and Professor
Handgelenk." A more condensed method is better, though it may lack
interest for the passionate Liszt admirers. As for the chronicling of
small-beer, I hope I have provided sufficient anecdotes to satisfy the
most inveterate of scandal-mongers. I may add that for over a quarter of
a century I have been collecting Lisztiana; not to mention the almost
innumerable conversations and interviews I have enjoyed with friends and
pupils of Liszt.
I wish to acknowledge the help and sympathy of: Camille Saint-Saens,
Frederick Niecks, Rafael Joseffy, the late Anton Seidl, Felix
Weingartner, Arthur Friedheim, Richard Burmeister, Henry T. Finck,
Philip Hale, W. F. Apthorp, the late Edward Dannreuther, Frank Van der
Stucken, August Spanuth, Emil Sauer, Moritz Rosenthal, Eugen d'Albert,
Amy Fay, Rosa Newmarch, Jaroslaw de Zielinski, the late Edward A.
MacDowell, John Kautz, of Albany (who first suggested to me the
magnitude of Liszt's contribution to the art of rhythms), Charles A.
Ellis, of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, and Edward E. Ziegler. I am
also particularly indebted to the following publications for their
courtesy in the matter of reproduction of various articles: _Scribner's
Magazine_, _New York Sun_, _Evening Post_, _Herald_, _Times_, _The
Etude_, _Everybody's Magazine_, and _The Musical Courier_.
An exhaustive list of the compositions has yet to be made, though
Goellerich in his Franz Liszt consumes fifty-five pages in enumerating
the works--compiled from Lina Ramann, Breitkopf and Haertel, and
Busoni--some of which never saw the light of publication; such as the
opera Don Sancho, the Revolutionary Symphony, _etcetera_; when Breitkopf
and Haertel finish their cataloguing no doubt the result will be more
satisfactory. The fact is that out of the known 1,300 compositions, only
400 are original and of these latter how many are worth remembering?
Liszt wrote too much and too often for money. His best efforts will
survive, of course; but I do not see the use of making a record of
ephemeral pot-boilers. It is the same with the bibliography. I give the
sources whenever I can of my information; impossible, however, is it to
credit the authorship of all the flotsam and jetsam. Kapp in his
ponderous biography actually devotes twenty-seven pages to the books,
magazines, and newspapers which have dealt with the theme, though even
his Teutonic industry has not rendered flawless his drag-net.
Liszt was the most caricatured man in Europe save Wagner and Louis
Napoleon, and he was painted, sculptured, and photographed oftener than
any operatic or circus celebrity who ever sang or swung in the
break-neck trapeze. Naturally the choice of illustrations for this study
was narrowed down to a few types, with here and there a novelty (dug up
from some ancient album); yet sufficient to reveal Liszt as boy, youth,
man; fascinating, dazzling, enigmatic artist, comedian, abbe,
rhapsodist, but ever the great-souled Franz Liszt.