Tag: etudes

The Three Concert Etudes And The Glanzzeit Era

“And thus, frequently, I picture him to myself, not Franz
Liszt, the grave priest, but Franz Liszt, the incomparable artist.”

Elise Polko

1845. The height of Liszt’s celebrity fame. Just a few years ago, Liszt lived a relatively hassle-free life in Paris, enjoying aristocratic privileges as a commoner and performing for a select few in salons. Liszt’s friends Chopin and Mendelssohn had not yet forsaken him and his increasingly radical musical style. His scandalous relationship with Marie d’Agoult had not yet soured because of Liszt’s obsession with various artistic motives. All of that changed in 1841 when Liszt began his Berlin concerts. Unbeknownst to him, the popularity of these few performances would bring him on a grueling, tiresome seven-year tour of Europe, travelling from the Pyrenees to the Ural Mountains. 

Liszt had toured extensively as a prodigy in his youth, showcasing his special talents on the then-inferior piano (many Europeans still saw the violin and the church organ as the only “proper” solo instruments). His father, Adam Liszt, presided over the financial and logistical aspects of his performances. Together in the 1820s, the duo first ventured to Sopron and Pressburg, then, after a brief few years of Liszt’s first formal musical studies in Vienna, to Munich, Strasbourg, Stuttgart, and many other major independent German cities. After an especially successful period of touring in England and France, Liszt earned the nickname “Le petit Litz,” and many concert programs named him “Master Liszt.” He even allegedly received a kiss of consecration from Ludwig van Beethoven, who saw in the young Hungarian a future for the piano. However, he had not yet composed much, relying mainly on the existing classical repertoire, such as Hummel’s piano concertos. After his father’s passing and suffering a mental breakdown following romantic troubles with his student Caroline de Saint-Cricq, Liszt found a home in the revolutionary city of Paris.

Lithograph of a young Franz Liszt, the child prodigy, around the time of his first tours.

Between these early tours and the grand tour of the 1840s, Liszt had composed numerous notable and acclaimed works. Each composition after the other further solidified the fame of Liszt’s special quirks of piano playing. These dashing and bold works drove the audience into frenzy, leading Heinrich Heine to dub it “Lisztomania”: tickets sold out at unprecedented speeds, and women would reportedly swoon and faint during performance, with some collecting Liszt’s hair, sweat, or leftover cigar butts in small vials. It is impressive, therefore, that amid these hectic events, Liszt would decide to spend his precious free time composing a set of relatively easy and simple studies that would serve no major use in his large-scale concerts (excepting encores or unexpected opening preludes). 

Liszt composed the Three Concert Etudes S.144 (Trois études de concert) beginning in 1845 and later published them in 1849. He named its second French edition the Trois caprices poétiques, perhaps as a nod to the violinist Niccolò Paganini’s 24 Caprices. The manuscript simply marks each piece as “I,” “II,” and “III,” with seemingly arbitrary Italian titles assigned in a later publication. The études are then called “Il Lamento,” “La Leggierezza,” and “Un Sospiro” respectively, out of which only the last frequently sees the light of the concert stage. They remain arguably unmatched in lyricism, even in competition with popular Chopin counterparts, as the technical difficulties fade into the beautiful melodic lines. Liszt dedicated the pieces to Eduard, his uncle, who had handled Liszt’s business affairs in the music industry for over thirty years until he died in 1879.

The first étude, “Il Lamento” or “The Lament,” is keyed in A-flat major. Marked “A Capriccio,” Liszt regarded the first piece as a quietly cheering and near-whimsical composition. Plenitudes of “appassionato” labels paired with the “cantabile” mark opening the post-introductory sections firmly echo the piece’s song-like nature. Variations of the theme continue into a rather standard Lisztian development, extending far into foreign modulations before arriving back into the native tonic. “Il Lamento” is so distinctively Liszt: simply analyze the right hand, where the melody begins in the soprano pinky-finger while both blocked chords and broken arpeggiations hum in the alto and bass. The melody is then effectively doubled into an octave with complementary middle voices, repeated in the second and third fingers of the right hand. Finally, at the first major climax, the right hand falls into a passionate no-harmony octave passage. In contrast, the left hand jumps up from a bass octave every major beat into repeated diminished sevenths. Obvious parallels appear in other compositions like “Vallée d’Obermann.” 

Octave melody in the right hand with middle voice accompaniment by the second and third finger. Liszt omitted the grand bass chords usually found in the left-hand in similar pieces in an attempt to still keep the music relatively thin. Sheet music from Neue Liszt-Ausgabe.

The bright breakthroughs give way to a fading series of arpeggios in parallel motion. The melody remains clear throughout the sections marked “con intimo sentimento,” even growing into a false repeated climax as the right hand evolves into octaves again. Liszt finally signals the piece’s closure with a recapitulation of the introduction, including the same harmonic cadenza-esque runs. 

Classic Liszt chromatic cadenza, this time with no small use of the tritone, near the ending of “Il Lamento.” Sheet music from Neue Liszt-Ausgabe.

“La Leggierezza,” or “lightness,” in F minor, begins similarly with a short capriccio that quickly takes on the expositional theme. It begins with a speedy, delicate chromatic arpeggio, split into thirds and sixths in a somewhat irregular rhythm. The beginning echoes the title of the piece, bringing clarity and simplicity through the single-line, monothematic nature of the composition. The tempo indicates “Quasi allegretto,” a pace starkly slower than the tempo at which most performers play. 

Deceptively simple and moderately-paced introduction. Sheet music from Neue Liszt-Ausgabe.
The right hand pretty soon falls into a flurry of chromatics that run high into the upper register. Sheet music from Neue Liszt-Ausgabe.

By the central, pre-climactic sections, Liszt somewhat thickens the texture with sparse sixths, though the gossamer aura characteristic of “lightness” remains evident. The richness breaks off into a cadenza of the right hand, beginning as a rapid chromatic descent that slows into the secondary elaboration of the theme. Liszt emphasizes the importance of lightness: “delicamente,” “dolcissimo,” and even a “sempre molto legato” for the smooth triplet left-hand. Though Liszt technically writes 7-on-3 polyrhythms, the nature of the tempo and piece calls for an organic approach to the rhythm, not a mechanical one. An ossia, chosen in almost all modern recordings, demands minor third runs for the right-hand.

“La leggierezza” ends sentimentally in drawn-out chords, but the score often includes an alternative ending by Polish teacher Theodor Leschetizky. The coda was once quite popular, retaining Liszt’s own Picardy cadence. One of his students, Paderewski (famous for the Chopin editions), famously recorded this ending. 

Descending minor third run for the popular ossia (“piu difficile”). Sheet music from Neue Liszt-Ausgabe.

The third étude, the famous “Un Sospiro,” dominates the recital hall. In D-flat major, “Un Sospiro” focuses on arpeggios with melodies intertwined between hands. The piece serves as an elementary introduction to the three-hand effect, a technique in which sweeping arpeggios interweave with one-note or chordal middle-register melodies and accompany a simple, rich bass line, creating the illusion of the pianist having three hands. “Un Sospiro” lacks some of the three-hand factor as compared to Thalberg (the most famous three-hand effect pianist), however, because in an attempt to keep the étude accessible to pianists, Liszt had to simplify much of the left-hand bass accompaniment, thus making it sound more like a “two-and-a-half-hand effect.”

Thalberg, the largely forgotten virtuoso famous for the three-hand effect. He famously duelled Liszt in a piano battle at the salon of Princess Belgiojoso, where he played his “Moses Fantasy,” probably the most recognizable piece in his “three-handed” repertoire.

The flowing arpeggios mix with a dramatic, ever-changing melody to evoke the romantic thought of a prolonged, emotional sigh. “Armonioso” (and a later marking “cantando” in a specialized third staff clarifying the melody) and “poco agitato” indicate both the singing aspect of the melody and Liszt’s intention of creating drama. In the middle, Liszt writes a small cadenza section where he temporarily relinquishes the three-hand pattern. As if Liszt had to tie together all of these études, he again includes a descending chromatic run right before the repeat of the three-hand section. 

Rolling arpeggios with treble melody separated specifically with a third clef for ease. Liszt often did this in hard-to-voice lyrical pieces that also featured rich broken-chord harmonies, like “Reminiscences de Lucia di Lammermoor.” Sheet music from Neue Liszt-Ausgabe.

Finally, in the “Un poco più mosso” finale, the music calms down into simpler arpeggios in the right hand, with only the thumb playing the melody. After another brief return of the “two-and-a-half-hand,” slow half-note chords signal the end of the piece. The “sigher” clearly has run out of breath and, with great effort, musters the one final mutter that is the tonic with a slow, rolled bass. 

Liszt wrote many optional cadenzas for the music that he often performed during masterclasses at the fermata before the final section. He wrote one for Auguste Rennebaum in 1875, another for Lina Schmalhausen in 1885, and one for Henrik Gobbi in some unknown year. In the alternative coda included in Lina Ramann’s Liszt-Pädagogium, the progressions in transitions are in the right hand; Liszt added a descending whole-tone scale in the left hand. 

The pianist has many options to choose from, as Liszt’s fickle attitude towards compositions provided many different versions. Sheet music from Neue Liszt-Ausgabe.

The Trois études de concert, and specifically “Un Sospiro,” remain in common practice for the mix of Liszt’s staple virtuosity and admirable tenderness. They add a flair of diversity and accessibility to Liszt’s extensive oeuvre of other études, and stand as some of the most inspirational and original works of his Glanzzeit era.

A Transitional Era: The Two Concert Etudes

“For the virtuoso, musical works are in fact nothing but
tragic and moving materializations of his emotions;
he is called upon to make them speak, weep, sing and
sigh, to recreate them in accordance with his
own consciousness.”

Franz Liszt

Gradual cultural change captured the European musical landscape in the 1860s. The fervor of emotions and feelings from previous decades subsided, and a classical-esque revival ensnared the new generation’s zeitgeist. The era of Early Romanticism (characterized by ideas such as expression over form and artist over audience) came to an end, and the musical community saw the emergence of late Romantic composers such as Wagner. Solemnness, earnestness, and a stricter adherence to musical structure replaced the extreme Romantic ardor of the 1830s and 40s. Franz Liszt himself was a changed man, too. He had already retired from the concert stage for a decade and a half, focusing primarily on composition and losing many aspects of the celebrity life that characterized his younger years.

After moving to Rome from his musically tenacious home in Weimar in 1861, Liszt began experimenting freely with musical techniques. His good friends and lovers from his early adulthood, including Chopin and Marie d’Agoult, became insignificant fragments of his past. He thus sought out Rome as a haven to freely release the thoughts of his troubled mind in the form of music and to seek the permission of the papacy to marry Princess Carolyne zu Sayn-Wittgenstein, with whom he had maintained an adulterous affair for the past 20 years. 

One great musical staple exemplified during this transitional period is Zwei Konzertetüden S.145, which serves as a thematic and stylistic precursor to Liszt’s later compositional style. These works feature Liszt’s earlier, more virtuosic techniques, but also showcase the musical and technical restraint characteristic of the composer’s late works.

Liszt playing the piano in his late life. Notice how he no longer holds the same vivacity nor the same proud, confident composure of his virtuoso years. The darkness and eminence of fate hold him in great contemplation.

Liszt was fickle with marking the purpose of the Two Concert Etudes. They were dedicated to Dionys Pruckner, a student of Franz Liszt from a decade earlier in Weimar who had begun his own touring and had assumed the role of pedagogue at Stuttgart Conservatory. The dedication, however, is markedly confusing because the pieces were intended for Ludwig Stark and Sigmund Lebert, both piano professors and co-founders of the Stuttgart Conservatory. Liszt composed the pieces for the duo’s Grosse theoretisch-praktische Klavierschule, a piano method famous at the time, which was translated into multiple languages and printed throughout Europe. Though published in 1858, it gained fame in its fourth edition of 1870.

The first piece in the set, “Waldesrauschen,” is the lesser-played of the two and is in D-flat major. The piece is very ethereal and song-like, evoking strong imagery of wind echoing throughout the forest. In some ways, it is similar to the earlier “Au lac de Wallenstadt” from the first Années de Pèlerinage, S.160. Like most Romantic piano etudes, “Waldesrauschen” transcends the typical classical style (which usually followed the etude’s literal meaning of “study,” emphasizing mechanics and the development of near-robotic technique). And yet, behind the flowing song-like melody in the left hides a secondary purpose for the piece’s composition: the repeating right-hand accompaniment, which builds finger independence. The voices then swap hands, with the ever-constant humming harmony echoing in the left hand and the melody strengthened as octaves in the right.

The dissipation of the right-hand harmonic “hum” as in “Waldesrauschen.” Sheet music from Breitkopf & Härtel.

The developmental middle section brings a dramatic turn to the music: decisive, passionate octaves in the right hand resonate with the extremely cadential left hand, which rapidly ascends and descends. The techniques and phrasing used in this part draw connections to Liszt’s Sonata, S.178, dating from nearly a decade before, thus placing this etude firmly in the crossroads between the Weimar period and his late phase. At the end of the piece, Liszt has the right-hand accompaniment fade slowly away, ending with a ppp rolled tonic chord in the middle register, followed by an even softer tonic “murmur” in the upper register. Characteristically, Liszt’s “Waldesrauschen” features the common usage of the sixth chord, which Liszt employed in many of his introspective, often religious compositions.

“Gnomenreigen” serves as quite a contrast to its previous companion. Pianists choose to perform it in concerts and competitions due to its technical difficulty. The translation of the title (“Round dance of gnomes”) suggests the imitation of magical creatures known to be stout, light, and yet quick. The tempo marking reflects this sentiment: “Presto scherzando.” Not only does Liszt require utmost speed, but he also insists on maintaining the scherzo-like nature of gnomes, which ultimately entails lightness and precision amidst fast passages. If it was not obvious enough, the fifth measure marks “staccato e leggierissimo,” meaning “detached and very light,” which verifies Liszt’s intentions. The piece’s central theme begins in F-sharp minor, emphasizing quick grace notes. Liszt then elaborates this in an A-major variation with an exceptionally fast right-hand under the marking of “Un poco più animato.”

Visual representation of the gnomes from popular legend as depicted in “Gnomenreigen.”

The first theme and its elaboration repeat in B-flat major in a similar fashion, and then the music suddenly takes a darker turn as the key follows suit into the relative minor: the passage dips into the bass-clef area in a mysterious and earnest development. The section contains 54 consecutive bass “D” notes in an ostinato manner. F-sharp minor then grows into a grand recapitulation of the second elaborative theme. Then the soft first theme suddenly swallows the piercing climactic passage, as if the gnomes were returning underground after their fanfare, and the entire composition were a dream. Yet notably, “Gnomenreigen” ends on a F-sharp major (the parallel major of the initial key!) ascending arpeggio, suggesting Liszt’s optimistic, upward-looking objective for it. Perhaps Liszt honestly did believe in the good luck of gnomes.

Sharp, attacking ornamented eighth notes. Though not technically difficult to play the right notes, it is quite challenging to perform at tempo with good tone quality and color. Sheet music from Breitkopf & Härtel.

Luckily, unlike many of Liszt’s pieces, the Two Concert Etudes gained popularity for a short period of time and maintained a relatively favorable status even after their creator’s passing. Perhaps the Zwei Konzertetüden’s success arises from their combination of quintessential early romanticism with the proto-impressionist flair of the very late 19th century, making them musically and historically rich. The pieces are representative of a changing European musical landscape where music itself was no longer homogeneous: taste grew diverse and fragmented, and visionary artistic leaders established different schools of music that advanced Western music in their own ways (namely, Leipzig’s conservative school, Wagner’s New German School, and even the Russian kuchka). As Liszt’s popularity declined with the arrival of a new generation of piano virtuosos, he reached a level of emotional maturity and artistic development that fundamentally altered his musical output.

Grandeur in the Paganini etudes

“Rene, what a man, what a violin, what an artist!
Heavens! What sufferings, what misery, what
tortures in those four strings!”

Franz Liszt

Before his fame as a composer, Liszt toured Europe as a child prodigy. Growing up in a lower-class family in Hungary, Liszt could have only dreamt of the journeys he would take through Romantic-era Europe if his faithful father, Adam Liszt, had not devoted himself to his son. Adam, who personally taught Liszt the piano in their humble cottage in the small town of Raiding, eventually sent his talented young son to Vienna for coaching from the esteemed pianist Carl Czerny, and later accompanied him on performance tours across Europe. The funding for these journeys came from wealthy Hungarian nobles whom Adam Liszt managed to convince after his son performed at a salon in the palace of the Esterházys. The Esterházys were perhaps the most significant Hungarian noble family, whose Nikolaus II famously supported Haydn, Beethoven, and Hummel financially.

However, in 1827, Adam Liszt passed away from typhoid fever. Devastated and alone in his musical endeavors, Liszt navigated the complex Parisian society as a newcomer. Soon, however, he would make a major breakthrough in his art. In 1832, Liszt had an epiphany after attending Niccolò Paganini’s concert at the Paris Opera House. An infamously talented violinist, Paganini took the European world by storm with his exceptional technique and compositions, all the while pioneering the concept of a touring musician. Whenever a piece was thought to be impossible, Paganini came and performed it with perfect accuracy and musicianship. Thought to have sold his soul to the devil in exchange for “devilish” fingers, Paganini impressed Liszt so much that Liszt would vow to become a comparable virtuoso as Paganini on the piano. Liszt would increase his practice time to up to 14 hours a day, and from this technical refining would arise the two legendary sets of Paganini études.

The first set of études, called Études d’exécution transcendante d’après Paganini, S.140, was published in 1838. The études followed the trend started by Robert Schumann in 1831. This set translates the virtuosity of Paganini into the keyboard. Though S.140 is forgotten in exchange for the more popular 1851 Grandes Études de Paganini, S.141, the early set contains many beautiful moments not present in the revision. Indeed, the results are just as impressive, if not more so, than the original melodies the set of études is based upon. Endless tremolos and leaps seem to demand hands of titanic size and fingers of arachnid-like mobility. Though catalogued as original Liszt works, the Paganini études are in nature much closer to transcriptions, offering very little new thematic material.

The first etude, Tremolo, was composed using the melody of Paganini’s sixth caprice, but it begins and ends with excerpts from the fifth caprice. The rumbling left-hand and lyrical right-hand melodies echo the original violin composition, but add layers of depth and range that the four stringed instrument cannot produce. The texture intensifies until the fifth caprice melody returns with thunderlike arpeggios and scales, finally concluding with a victorious doubled tonic. The individual hands imitate a violin duet, clearly paying tribute to the original Paganini study. In the first version from 1838, an ossia is present which inco.rporates Schumann’s Op. 10 no. 2. This ossia is not present in the later version from 1851.

The second etude uses Paganini’s seventeenth caprice and employs extensive use of rapid octaves. Glistening descending runs in the second half stand out against occasional periods of relative musical ease and quiet. 

Melody from the final movement of Paganini’s first Violin Concerto used in the first edition that is absent in the more popular “La Campanella.” Sheet music from Breitkopf & Härtel.

The third etude from the 1838 set is, for better or for worse, outshined by its revision, known as La Campanella. Like its popular brother, the third etude from the 1838 set uses the bell melody from the Rondo of Paganini’s second violin concerto. The staccato of the bell remains prevalent through most of the piece. The version present in the early Études d’exécution transcendante d’après Paganini is arguably more faithful to the original melody in style and articulative marking. It requires a different type of technique, generally involving big hands and extremely independent fingers, whereas the revised Grandes Études de Paganini version focuses on jumps and more traditional skills. Uniquely, the early version incorporates themes from the final movement of Paganini’s first violin concerto, melodies that are absent in the later version. Liszt does not stay faithful to the B minor key of the original Paganini work, but instead opts for G sharp minor, shifting the notes in large jumps onto the black keys, thus making them more manageable to play. Overall, this work maintains a highly playful and upbeat mood, contrasting with the revision’s more serious and mature approach typical of middle-aged Liszt.

The fourth etude in the Études d’exécution transcendante d’après Paganini has, in the digital era, exploded to mythical status. The work itself is based on Paganini’s first caprice, which tests the violinist’s ability to bounce the bow off of the strings. Liszt provides two versions of the same piece: a first version labeled “4a,” which in itself is pretty challenging and tests the performer’s stamina and ability to move the fingers and arms quickly. However, the second version, called “4b,” is much more difficult, testing the abilities of the performer with large leaps and thick chordal writing. Many erroneously try to play this “4b” version at the speed of the original caprice, but Liszt’s tempo marking indicates that it shouldn’t be played nearly that fast. The version included in the 1851 set of études is much more refined, and the technique required is clearly intended to reflect the technique that the caprice features.

The fifth etude, “La Chasse,” is a beautiful and comparatively calm addition to the set, truly softening the otherwise firm and sometimes abrasive album. Initially a study on double-stops in the original ninth caprice, Liszt rewrites the voicing and lines to maintain a balance between faithfulness and effectiveness on a different instrument. A warm melodic line reminiscent of holiday music opens to a fiery passage evocative of the violin spiccato. The dolcissimo carries to the end, until the final chords are played with an awaking resolve and firmness. In the 1838 version, a much thicker texture is used, while the 1851 version is more laid back. The 1838 version includes an ossia which persists for nearly the entire étude, leading some to separate this early étude into two separate versions.

The sixth étude is based on the most famous of the caprices, number 24. The étude is structured as a theme with variations, similar to the original caprice. Many composers would later write variations on this same theme due to its versatility and recognizable rhythm. The 1838 version has some differences in the variations, but overall, the 1851 version of the étude is noticably improved in its voicing and texture.

In 1851, the Hungarian composer revised the early Paganini études into the Grandes Études de Paganini, S. 141. This set of pieces is stripped of the unnecessary difficulties of the early set, and includes many more refined textures and transitional sections. Like the S. 140 études, the S. 141 études are also dedicated to Clara Schumann. Renowned Liszt scholar Leslie Howard describes this relationship in the program notes of his recording of the études, writing:

“Liszt dedicated the 1838 set of studies to Clara Schumann and, for all her carping ingratitude, went on happily to dedicate the 1851 set to her as well.”

The ingratitude which Howard writes about refers to Clara Schumann’s strong distaste for Liszt’s compositional style, which she most notably expressed about these études and the Sonata in B minor.

The first and second S. 141 études are both remarkably similar to their predecessors. The motive and thematic material are identical, and the execution of pianistic prowess is visibly more refined. Liszt had, at this point, matured from his virtuosic early years in Paris. Living in Weimar as Kappelmeister, he truly honed his compositional abilities after his touring years came to an end. Here too we see the dilution of texture which is very common in Liszt’s constant process of revision.

The 1851 La Campanella could not be any more different than the 1838 version. Though it is just as technically demanding, the techniques used are quite different. The extended range in both hands and the articulative “capricious” tone present in the 1851 version contrasts with the 1838 version, which is more similar in style to the original Paganini study. However, the two versions of this étude are just some of the pieces composed after Paganini’s Clochette melody. Also among these compositions are the two large scale works numbered as S. 420 and S. 700i (a second version of this piece is catalogued as S. 700ii).

The Grandes Études de Paganini etude no. 4. Note the layout of this work on a single staff rather than two. Sheet music from Breitkopf & Härtel.
Version 4a of the Études d’exécution transcendante d’après Paganini. Sheet music from Breitkopf & Härtel.
Version 4b of the Études d’exécution transcendante d’après Paganini. Sheet music from Breitkopf & Härtel.

Out of the three versions, the fourth étude of the 1851 Grandes Études de Paganini is most consistent with the violin caprice. This version offers very few deviations from the original caprice in comparison with the two versions of 1838.

The fifth and sixth études do not have major differences between the originals and the revisions. The charges made are mostly improvements in texture, as well as the removal of unnecessary complexity not consistent with the character of the music.

Liszt’s two sets of Paganini études are very difficult works that require years of dedication and practice to perform well. The technical writing presented in these études is a testament to the magnificent Paganini, who took the world by storm with his incredible ability on the violin. Analysis of the differences between these works reveals Liszt’s incredible evolution as an artist and his ability to balance difficult technical writing with musical expression.