Bresciani and Nicolosi clearly have the music of Liszt in the blood.

Pianists Bresciani and Nicolosi formed the Franz Liszt Piano Duo in 1998 to advance the cause of Liszt’s two piano transcriptions of his symphonic output. Their collaboration began with arrangements of the Goethe-inspired Faust Symphony, S.108 (1854; rev. 1857) and continued with the Dante. The duo’s repertoire includes Liszt’s transcription for two pianos of his symphonic poems and the two piano arrangements of Wagner’s operas made by Liszt and his pupils.

Liszt together with his mistress Marie d’Agoult read widely. They, like many others, became inspired by the epic poem Commedia (c.1310-14) later known as The Divine Comedy written by Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) the famous Italian poet and writer. Liszt in 1839 started work on the piano piece fragment dantesque in an attempt to portray Dante’s world in music. D’Agoult wrote to Henri Lehmann in 1839 from the fishing village of San Rossore stating that Liszt had begun work on the fragment dantesque, “which is sending him to the very devil.”1 Several weeks later Liszt gave the première of the fragment in Vienna. It seems that its manuscript went missing and it was only after 1849 when living in Weimar that Liszt reworked the music as the seventh piece of his Années de Pèlerinage (Years of Pilgrimage, 2nd year, Italian volume) with the title of Après une Lecture de Dante: Fantasia Quasi Sonata (After a Reading of Dante: Fantasia Quasi Sonata).

Widely known today as the Dante Sonata the substantial single movement work is considered one of Liszt’s most daunting piano scores. In this case we have an arrangement for two pianos by Vittorio Bresciani; without a composition date given. Liszt approved no programme for the Dante Sonata apart from the brief title of Après une Lecture de Dante (After a Reading of Dante). According to biographer Alan Walker, “The Dante Sonata remains one of Liszt’s unique creations, little played and little understood for a half a century after its initial publication in 1858.”2 Neglected for many years a quick google has shown that there are now several versions of the Dante Sonata available although, it is programmed a lot more sparingly by performers in recital.

From the outset Bresciani and Nicolosi establish an atmosphere of dark foreboding which develops in intensity and suggests the entrance to hell. At 5:19 a calmer mood prevails - evocative of a love scene between Paolo and Francesca. From 8:24 the weight and tempo increases as the Devil’s influence is observed. Unsettling, stormy music takes centre-stage between 9:38 and 12:09 before running a calmer course from 12:10. From 13:25 the duo convey an innate feeling of hope that then builds to a spirited conclusion.

After meeting Princess Carolyne von Sayn-Wittgenstein in 1847, Liszt’s interest in Dante’s Divine Comedy was once again ignited. It was during his Weimar years (1848-61) that he composed many of his finest works: the Sonata for Piano in B minor, S.178 (1852-53); A Faust Symphony, S.108 (1854, rev. 1857) and the Dante Symphony, S.109 (1855-57). Although Liszt had had sketches of the Dante Symphony in his folder as far back as the 1840s he only resumed work on it in 1855 completing the score in 1857. In 1859 he prepared this arrangement for two pianos.

It seems that the orchestra was seriously under-rehearsed when Liszt conducted the première of this difficult score. Reports indicate an embarrassingly inadequate performance at Dresden in 1857. Dedicated to Richard Wagner, the Dante Symphony depicts the romantic tale of struggle and redemption that traces Dante’s journey from Hell through Purgatorio. Wagner suggested to Liszt that it was impossible for a mere mortal to convey the heavenly wonders of Paradise. It consists of two sections/movements: the Inferno and the Purgatorio. At Wagner’s behest, Liszt avoids a Paradise movement and instead offers a substantial finale entitled Magnificat. This entails a chorus of angels set for female or children’s voices. Liszt gave a performance of his two piano version of the Dante Symphony in 1866 at the Paris home of artist and illustrator Gustave Doré with Camille Saint-Saëns as his partner.

In the opening Inferno Bresciani and Nicolosi open proceedings with chilling music in which they bring out a real sense of menace. A change of mood at 6:40 comes as welcome respite. Tranquil, light and amorous, this feels like music for the lovers Paolo and Francesca. The romantic mood gradually lessens and for a section between 9:37-10:48 one senses an underlying tension. Between 12:04 and 14:19 there is an especially lovely passage, full of passion and affection. From 14:20 a change of mood is discernable, gradually developing in weight and drama into a terrifying evocation of the fires of Hell.

Containing several rising figures the Purgatorio movement begins in relative tranquillity, representing the promise of hope and redemption. From 6:59 one feels a darker hue to the music. At 10:47 the music becomes more optimistic and at 11:52 the writing has a hymn-like character. From 13:00 a deep ecclesiastical quality prevails. The Magnificat links directly from the Purgatorio without a pause. The penitential-sounding children’s choir from Hungarian Radio under their conductor Gabriella Thész convey an ethereal quality. At 3:12 the treble Barbara Szmodics offers a short but radiant solo bringing out its feeling of youthful vulnerability - a convincing supplication for redemption.

The Naxos recording made at the Italian Cultural Institute in Budapest has an exceptional combination of clarity and balance. The booklet notes from Keith Anderson provide most of the essential information. The duo demonstrate that they can handle the severe technical demands with aplomb and at the same time create a convincing sense of drama. They clearly have the music of Liszt in the blood.

-- Michael Cookson, MusicWeb International

This is the best Liszt orchestral recital to come along in many a moon, and it's all the more enjoyable given the involvement of Rafael Frübeck de Burgos, a fine conductor and a real trooper who has not received much attention since he ended his association with EMI several decades ago. Hopefully, this release signals an extensive new partnership with BIS, because Frübeck has the potential to become a major musical voice given half a chance. My, but this man knows his Liszt! Les préludes has grandeur, athletic vigor, and a genuine rush of excitement in the closing pages, with nary a trace of gratuitous bombast. Anyone who knows these works understands just what an achievement this represents. Take, for example, the concluding phrases for lower strings and trombones at the end of Tasso's allegro sections: Frübeck conjures an ideally rich, dark sound, perfectly balanced, never crude. Similarly, the much-maligned Festklänge displays nobility without excessive weight or rhythmic ponderousness. Best of all, Orpheus' sweetness avoids any hint of tackiness, thanks in large part to sensitive phrasing applied to warm, cultivated string sonorities.

Frübeck secures marvelous playing from the Berlin Radio Symphony Orchestra, of which he has been Music Director since 1994. The solo winds sport fresh timbres and excellent intonation, the brass cut nicely but never overpower, and the strings attack their parts with great confidence and rhythmic security. Add to these qualities first class recorded sound, which gives the percussion excellent impact without undue spotlighting, and if you have ever doubted the quality of this music, here's a disc that should dispel any qualms. Incidentally, Festklänge sports a tune that sounds remarkably like the Canadian national anthem, which I always thought was stolen from the opening of Act 2 of Mozart's Magic Flute. Go figure. Recordings such as this are all too likely to be dismissed because of the repertoire, or lost in a torrent of new releases arriving monthly in the shops, particularly as Frübeck isn't the "name" he once was. So don't make the mistake of passing this one by.

– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Valerie Tryon, one of the most sensitive and poetic pianists around, turns in another lovely contribution to Naxos' ongoing cycle of Liszt's complete piano music. Her pianism is quite a different kettle of fish from Oxana Yablonskaya's, whose own Schubert/Liszt disc marks Volume 5 in this series. At first hearing, I felt Tryon's control of Liszt's textural complexities to be slightly soft-grained and lacking the last degree of suppleness and tonal solidity we expect in this repertoire. By the second and third listening, I began to appreciate the pianist's canny dynamic planning, as witness the unfolding drama of "Der Jäger" and "Die böse Farbe" from Die Schöne Müllerin, or the subtle, rippling accompaniment that gently envelops "Wohin?".


Similarly, Tryon bathes "Die Forelle"'s arpeggios in beautifully tinted shadings and takes trouble to clarify Liszt's pedal markings. Listen to how Tryon deftly keeps "Ave Maria"'s melody afloat against an accompaniment that keeps changing its textural stripes. Yes, "Erlkönig" can use a bit more clarity and cumulative power, with less heavy octaves in the left hand. But that's just one track out of 19, and what's good is quite wonderful. If you've a hankering for Schubert songs served up for solo piano as only Liszt could, you'll certainly warm to this disc.
--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

Liszt's Donizetti transcriptions tell as much about their transcriber's singular bravura as they do about the prolific Italian opera composer's unstoppable melodic invention. The ideal interpreter should be able to make light of the enormous technical challenges without forgetting to let the tunes take shape in the manner of a great opera singer. Fortunately William Wolfram commands the right stuff to bring these chestnuts to life. He may not always match Leslie Howard's pearly nuances in slower, quieter passages, yet Wolfram brings much more drive and scintillation to the huge Lucrezia Borgia paraphrase's notey climaxes. He also finds varied colorations that prevent textural stagnation in the Dom Sebastian funeral march's frequent bass-register rumbles. The Valse de concert consistently demonstrates Wolfram's unflappable workmanship and sheer professionalism. While he negotiates the Lucia di Lammermoor sextet's thickets without a hitch, I can't erase Jorge Bolet's aristocratic cantabile from my inner ear, or from my hard drive for that matter! No doubt that Liszt mavens will want to know about this fine, often outstanding release.

--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

LISZT Polonaise from Yevgeney Onegin. Le Rossignol. Chanson bohémienne. Abschied. Mazurka. March from Russlan and Ludmilla. Prelude to the Borodin Polka. Russian Galop. Tarantella by César Cui. Slavic Tarentella by Dargomyzhsky. 2 Anton Rubinstein songs. Autrefois • Alexandre Dossin (pn) • NAXOS 572432 (66: 25)


The Naxos traversal of Liszt’s complete piano music, which began in 1997, has now reached its 35th volume with Alexandre Dossin playing a fascinating program of transcriptions of Russian composers. Dossin’s bona fides as a Liszt player of distinction were established with his 2007 contribution to the series, a disc devoted to the Verdi transcriptions and paraphrases. This new release shows him in wide-ranging repertoire, from salon trifles such as the Chanson bohémienne of Bulakhov, through the resplendent setting of the Polonaise from Tchaikovsky’s Yevgeny Onegin , to the heartrending Abschied (Farewell), a simple song setting for Liszt’s beloved pupil Siloti.


The chief interest of this repertoire, however, is not its variety, but its chronology. Five of the transcriptions—those based on music of Alyabyev, Bulakhov, Glinka, and Vielgorsky—are souvenirs of Liszt’s Russian tours of the 1840s. The isolated Mazurka “composed by a St. Petersburg amateur,” possibly Vielgorsky, dates from 1856, during Liszt’s Weimar years. The remainder—including the Tchaikovsky Polonaise and the Borodin, Dargomyzhsky, and Cui transcriptions as well as the two Rubinstein songs—were all set by Liszt in 1880 or later. In other words, these final seven transcriptions are products of the last six years of Liszt’s life and thus contemporaneous with such late-style works as Czárdás macabre , the Hungarian Historical Portraits, Bagatelle without Tonality, Unstern!, and the several pieces memorializing Wagner.


The Polonaise from Onegin , easily the most familiar work on the disc, is given an extrovert reading that highlights its profusion of opulent pianistic detail without obscuring the overall structure and momentum of the dance. Dossin’s interpretation readily holds its own beside those older, famous ones of Cziffra and Ponti, and perhaps surpasses them in its unforced poise and characteristic voice. Dossin approaches Alyabyev’s The Nightingale , set by Liszt as a veritable mini-Russian rhapsody, with intelligence and finesse. Meanwhile, the quirky Circassian March from Glinka’s Russlan and Ludmilla, a virtuoso tour de force , fairly explodes with rhythmic acrobatics and kaleidoscopic colors.


The two tarantellas by Dargomyzhsky and Cui are particularly intriguing, reminding us that, during the 1860s, Liszt and Dargomyzhsky were among the first composers to experiment (independently) with use of the whole-tone scale—Dargomyzhsky in his opera The Stone Guest and Liszt in his melodrama Der traurige Mönch. Both tarantellas exemplify Liszt’s tendency in old age to transform the materials he transcribed, imbuing them with the radical harmonic and rhythmic characteristics of his own late style. In many cases, and certainly in these tarantellas, the originals are endowed with a “new formal and authorial weight,” as Jonathan Kregor has suggested in his pathbreaking study, Liszt as Transcriber (2010). Dargomyzhsky had been dead 10 years when his unprepossessing piano duet Slavic Tarantella was taken up by Liszt and expanded into a haunting and concert-worthy piano solo. The longest piece on the program is the Tarantella by César Cui , possibly Liszt’s very last transcription of another composer’s work. Kregor points out that Cui’s orchestral original had been in circulation for more than 25years when Liszt decided to transcribe it. Liszt expands, emends, and amplifies the material in a way that elevates this folk dance to a veritable metaphysical realm. If proof were needed that the acuity of Liszt’s perceptions and the richness of his imagination remained undiminished to the end, the Tarantella by César Cui provides ample testimony.


It is hard to imagine a more eloquent spokesman for this repertoire than Dossin. Though he is by birth and upbringing Brazilian, the nine years he spent studying in Moscow lend an unmistakable authenticity to his voice in Russian music. Moreover, Dossin’s refined and multifaceted pianism, combined with his formidable intellectual and musical grasp, make him one of the more remarkable Liszt interpreters before the public today.


FANFARE: Patrick Rucker

Liszt wrote his A Faust Symphony; Three Character Pictures, Faust, Gretchen and Mephistopheles, after Goethe, in 1854, adding a choral finale three years later, when it was first performed in Weimar. Further revisions took place, with changes introduced even as late as 1880. He transcribed the second Gretchen movement for solo piano, completing it eventually in 1874, and in 1862 published his version of the work for two pianos, revising it in 1870. The subject of Faust, the scholar who sold his soul to the Devil in return for youth and power, had a particular attraction to artists in the nineteenth century, when Faust might appear as a human hero, an opponent of ancient tyrannies, political and religious, and the Devil himself might seem to have similar attractions. Where the Elizabethan version of the story by Christopher Marlowe brought Faust to a medieval Hell, Goethe's monumental and influential poetic treatment of the subject ended in the final redemption of Faust through the power of love and of the woman he had wronged, Gretchen. Liszt based his symphony on the literary work of his great predecessor in Weimar, Goethe, and returned to the subject of Faust in later compositions based on Lenau's Faust, including the Mephisto Waltzes. The second movement, Gretchen, generally lightly scored, starts with a gentle passage, scored originally for flutes and clarinets, followed by the main theme, played by oboe accompanied by solo viola, the two piano version marked Innocente. There is a short passage that represents the scene in the garden when Gretchen plucks the petals of a flower, seeking to know whether Faust loves her or not. A second Gretchen theme is heard, and in the central section of the movement Faust's theme of love appears, and a descending melody associated with Faust's yearning. The agitated theme of Faust's struggle re-appears, now mollified in a gentler mood. This leads to a re-appearance of the Gretchen themes, with the theme of Faust's heroism utterly transformed in conclusion, as the sound dies away. The third part of the Faust Symphony is devoted to the devil, Mephistopheles. Marked Allegro vivace, ironico, it transforms the thematic material of the earlier pictures, in a remarkable scherzo of great power, twisting the material associated with Faust, but allowing Gretchen to overcome the power of evil, when her theme appears in all it's simple purity, after the violence of a fugue, based on a version of the theme associated with the emotions of Faust. The complexities of the movement and the transformation of earlier thematic material defy succinct explanation in a picture that includes only one extraneous thematic element, the 'pride' theme from Liszt's Malédiction for piano and orchestra.

Naxos’ survey of Liszt’s piano music seems to have been progressing in dribs and drabs, with little fanfare since its launch more than 20 years ago. However, if you’re a fan of Liszt and the highest order of transcendental virtuosity, grab Volume 41 right away. I first became aware of Han Chen, winner of the 2013 China International Piano Competition, as a commanding new music pianist, one of many in New York. He’s also a composer. Since most new music pianists don’t bother with Liszt (and when they do, it’s usually awful), I was prepared for the worst. Instead, I heard the best!
It isn’t just Chen’s assured, elegant and totally effortless technique that blows me away, it’s also his idiomatic flair, his use of color and touch to convey character, plus a gift for textural variety and differentiation that one associates with golden age legends. Listen to the Bellini Sonnambula Fantasy’s carefully sculpted climaxes and how the final pages’ buckets of chords and runs sing out with no strain, struggle or imbalance whatsoever. The Polonaise from I Puritani swaggers with joyful scintillation, while the convoluted thematic juggling in the Freischütz Fantasy conveys a sense of lightness and play that Leslie Howard’s premier recording keeps under wraps. The engineering replicates how a well-regulated concert grand sounds in a small hall with a luminous yet not overly resonant acoustic. Need I say more? - ClassicsToday

Solo piano transcriptions of music from the operas of composer Giacomo Meyerbeer form the focus of Vol. 40 in the Naxos Complete Piano Music of Franz Liszt project. Sergio Gallo takes on the herculean task of playing the three-part Illustrations du Prophète, S414/R223, a work lasting nearly three-quarters of an hour, in addition to the 20-minute plus Illustrations de L’Africaine, S415/R224 and two briefer examples of Lisztian transcription fireworks embedded between these two knuckle busters. Mr. Gallo currently teaches at two US institutions, one being Georgia State University in Atlanta.