Liszt, the piano virtuoso

“It is impossible to describe in words the way Liszt handles the piano; when he puts his hands on that many-toothed monster it ceases to be a piano; it becomes a kind of living wonder that threatens with its voice, as though the monster of the Apocalypse were roaring down at us; then the monster retreats and it begins to speak softly about the deep secrets of the heart for which there are no words; it captures the moonbeams and the starry summers, bringing the whole heavens closer to us.” It was with these enthusiastic, perhaps not very expert but all the more sensitive words that the novelist Mór Jókai wrote of the elderly Franz Liszt’s piano playing, and the enchantment of the great storyteller simply expressed in poetic form the typical reaction of contemporary audiences. For throughout his long career Liszt was a grand fascinateur of the piano, and already on the occasion of his first appearance in Pest in 1823 similar reports were written about the virtuosity of the “handsome blonde youth”: “he showed such skill, lightness, precision, pleasant force and mastery of the keyboard that the entire noble assembly was filled with delight and admiration.”

Liszt then further perfected his playing in Paris, because although he was not admitted as a student to the prestigious Conservatoire, the French capital often described around that time as Pianopolis nevertheless offered the young musician exceptional opportunities for development. Paris not only had an abundance of music teachers and master pianists, there were also numerous factories perfecting and mass producing the instrument. One of these, the respected Érard company soon became Liszt’s supporter. And the pianist who, right from the start devoted special attention to a refined appearance, soon found an admiring audience in the salons of aristocratic and banking families.

Rivalry too, early became a part of Liszt’s life in Paris, a city blessed with so many excellent pianists. The inspiring friendship of Frédéric Chopin can be mentioned as evidence of this, as well as the famous musical duel held in the salon of Princess Belgiojoso between Liszt and the now long forgotten Sigismund Thalberg. (“Thalberg is the greatest pianist – but there is only one Liszt” – was the final verdict pronounced by the Italian princess.) But the instrumental virtuoso who most spurred Liszt to self-examination and competition was not a pianist but a violinist: Niccolò Paganini, the Devil’s violinist. His influence can be felt not only in Liszt’s entire podium persona or his piano playing, but also in his work as a composer. From this point on the brilliance of his piano pieces sought ever newer effects, pushing the limits of instrumental playing and at the same time of performance arising from the soul of the instrument. And because he composed these pieces for himself, their perfect and inspired performance continues to be a challenge for successive generations – to compete with each other and meet the standard set by the virtuoso and composer, as we will no doubt see for ourselves at the International Piano Competition in the bicentennial year.

On his triumphant concert tours the young Liszt made his talent as a pianist known throughout Europe – from London to St Petersburg, and of course to Pest-Buda. “Renowned musician – freeman of the world” – wrote Mihály Vörösmarty in the first line of his poem in tribute to Liszt, and in fact: the fame of Liszt the virtuoso spread throughout western civilisation. And although as he left his youthful years behind Liszt made considerably fewer appearances as a concert pianist, he retained his manual agility, brilliant technique and his stage charisma, so that even the elderly master fully deserved the joking tribute paid to him in the caption given to a Liszt caricature published in a Hungarian satirical magazine: “Fortissimus pianista, Claviator maximus.”