LISZT: SONGS

Timothy Fallon and Ammiel Bushakevitz appear regularly together in recital, and in 2013 won first prize in the Wigmore Hall/Kohn Foundation International Song Competition. For their début album as a duo they have devised an all-Liszt programme which spans some 40 years of the composer's career, taking in settings of poems in four different languages. Most of Liszt's 70 or so songs were composed during the 1840s, but Liszt returned to many of them over the course of his life, sometimes revising them more than once and in some cases arranging them for solo piano. Certain of these arrangements, such as the three settings of sonnets by Petrarch which open the present release, have become better known than the originals. Another Italian setting is the tenderly lyrical Angiolin da biondo crin, written for Liszt's daughter Blandine. Composed in 1839 it is the composer's first song, but Fallon and Bushakevitz have chosen to perform the revised version made some 10 years later. Although French was not Liszt’s mother tongue, it became his preferred language and he composed a number of songs to French texts – many of them by Victor Hugo, his friend and idol. Another author admired by Liszt was Schiller, whose Wilhelm Tell inspired revolutionaries during the tumultuous 1840s. Among some of the later songs are Jugendglück, a rhapsodic tour-de-force exemplary of Liszt’s virtuosic style, and Go not, happy day from 1879, the only English setting among his songs. The programme closes with another late song, Ihr Glocken von Marling, to a poem by Emil Kuh which inspired Liszt to create an intensely evocative soundscape.

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REVIEW:

American tenor Timothy Fallon's voice is exceptional, darkish in tone, evenly produced, capable of both ringing high notes and a superbly controlled mezza voce. His way with words is thoughtful, considerate: the catalog of emotions that opens Pace non trovo is carefully if intelligently negotiated; later on, the Hugo settings Comment disaient-ils and Enfant, si j'étais roi gleam with understated wit and and sensuality. No serious Lisztian will want to be without this disc.

– Gramophone

BIS takes over from Avie presenting Andreas Haefliger’s ongoing (albeit slowly unfolding) Perspectives releases, a series that encompasses intelligent and often unexpected juxtapositions of mixed repertoire. As with its predecessors, Volume 7 features one Beethoven sonata. Haefliger’s careful phrasing and attention to voice leading makes a case for his muted and reflective way with Op. 101’s first movement, although he undermines the music’s undercurrents of energy and subito dynamics. At first the gnarly march movement seems dynamically constricted, yet the obsessive dotted rhythms gather momentum through Haefliger’s spot-on balances, pointed articulation of trills, and attention to transitional passages; it’s closer to Wilhelm Kempff’s caustic perception than, say, the nervous tension of Ernst Levy or the best of Vladimir Horowitz’s myriad live versions. And the difficult fourth-movement Fugue’s contrapuntal strands take on a woodwind-like character under Haefliger’s agile fingers.

The pianist has obviously lived with and “lived in” Berg’s Sonata for some time. At least that’s the impression he conveys in the exposition, where the primary lines and imitative rejoinders intertwine in relaxed conversation. The thick-textured development section sacrifices headlong urgency for top-to-bottom clarity. Similarly, Haefliger shapes the ebb of lyrical phrases and fluttering birdsong caressingly yet never indulgently in Liszt’s St. Francis Légende No. 1.

Mussorgsky’s Pictures from an Exhibition abounds with interesting and illuminating interpretive ideas. For example, Haefliger’s rhetorical underlinings in Gnomus reinforce the music’s menacing yet mysterious character. The third Promenade is not loudly declaimed, but deliberate and reticent. Ritards at phrase endings impart an aptly hesitant quality to the Tuileries’ middle section, and there’s a welcome dramatic specificity in the gradual diminuendo at the end of Bydlo. The Unhatched Chicks ballet is lightning-quick and almost deadpan in the way that Haefliger maintains the tempo throughout the central section: most pianists slightly broaden the tempo.

On the other hand, the pianist softens the intended sting of Samuel Goldenberg and Schmuÿle’s repeated-note sequence. But he resists the temptation to speed through the Limoges marketplace, taking a tempo that allows for the climactic broken chords to clearly register and resonate. However, I miss the final two movements’ potential for dynamism and orchestral impact that thrill me in the recordings by Ashkenazy, Berman, Bronfman, and, of course, the sonically grungy yet interpretively amazing live 1958 Sofia performance by Sviatoslav Richter.

In the end, Haefliger’s mastery, intelligence, and stylistic breadth deserve admiration and respect. I also should mention the concert hall realism of BIS’ engineering , together with this SACD’s unusually generous 86-plus minutes of playing time.

– ClassicsToday (Jed Distler)

Following their critically acclaimed recording of the Faust Symphony (BIS-2510), the Orchestre Philharmonique Royal de Liège, conducted by Gergely Madaras and joined by the Choeur Symphonique de Namur, now presents Liszt's Dante Symphony-a work reflecting his profound engagement with Dante's Divine Comedy. Initially planned in three movements-Inferno, Purgatorio, and Paradiso-the Dante Symphony was ultimately cast as two symphonic poems with a choral conclusion. The Inferno opens with a stern trombone theme beneath Dante's gate inscription, moves through lyrical episodes evoking Paolo and Francesca, and ends in demonic frenzy. The Purgatorio, serene and simple, contains a central fugue evoking souls striving toward paradise, leading without pause into the choral Magnificat. Liszt's treatment of tonality anticipates Mahler and Nielsen, while his use of the tritone and whole-tone scale confirms him as a composer ahead of his time. This recording also includes the symphony's original conclusion, later abandoned at Richard Wagner's insistence. The programme concludes with John Adams' orchestration of La Lugubre Gondola II, a visionary late work inspired by a funeral gondola procession on Venice's Grand Canal. Adams' arrangement honours the structural, stylistic, and poetic dimensions of Liszt's original, placing it's Romantic language within a modern soundscape.

With Passage, her debut solo album, the Georgian pianist Salome Jordania (nee 1996) presents a spiritual and vertiginous journey by way of the music of Franz Liszt, Alexander Scriabin, and Kaija Saariaho. Moving between mysticism, darkness, and the quest for transcendence, she explores the obscurity and radiance of the human soul through a programme of rare intensity, conceived as a true inner odyssey.

Following Wanderer Without Words (Alpha 984), which demonstrated her talents as a transcriber and pianist - 'we applaud both the skill of the composition and the performance, which alternates between subtle gestures and flashes of passion', wrote Diapason - Juliette Journaux now embarks on 'a declaration of love for German post-Romanticism', born at the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries, which dares to marry "the sublime and the trivial, beauty and ugliness, ecstasy and anguish, the divine and the carnal." Composers are gradually breaking free from classical structures, the boundaries of tonality are being pushed back, and the system of organising sounds around a stable central pole of attraction is being overturned: "Post-Romanticism muddies the clear waters," continues the French pianist. These tensions are embodied in a particularly striking manner in a work whose shockwaves reverberated throughout the late 19th century: Tristan und Isolde, premiered on 10 June 1865. The 'Wagner case' would captivate the musical world for decades, and young Viennese composers would follow in the master's footsteps: Wolf, Zemlinsky, Schoenberg, Schreker, Braunfels and Korngold feature on the programme of this recital, comprising numerous transcriptions by the pianist, which sheds a captivating light on this historic turning point.

A generation before the now iconic Dinu Lipatti died of cancer at the age of 33, a much less remembered Polish pianist, Karol Szreter (1898-1933), died of the same disease at almost the same age. A pupil of Egon Petri, so of the Busoni school, his brief career began in central Europe and by the time of his death he was becoming acknowledged as a major figure in the pianistic world. His first recordings were made acoustically for VOX, where he recorded both as accompanist and soloist, and we have included one example. He was then taken up by the sister labels Parlophon and Odeon and the majority of these recordings are presented here. Of note is the first electrical recording of Beethoven's Piano Concerto No 4 and three further sonatas, and - reflecting a different side of his art - five brilliant Strauss transcriptions where he reveals his stupendous technique.

Born in Verona in 1998, Giovanni Bertolazzi won the silver medal at the 2021 Liszt Piano Competition in Budapest, previous editions of which launched the careers of piano legends such as Annie Fischer and Dino Ciani. He has already made an enthusiastically received Liszt albums, and has established his credentials as a Liszt interpreter of rare insight and prodigious technique. On this album, his Piano Classics debut, Bertolazzi presents some of the most technically demanding and yet expressively wide-ranging works in the composer's vast output. Every serious Lisztian has measured up to the Paganini Etudes in the past, and Bertolazzi now joins their number. Within the course of the intricately interlinked six etudes of the Paganini cycle, we move from the Bachian, arpeggiated flourishes of the opening Tremolo, to the witty and allusive gestures of 'Octaves', and then the notoriously hair-raising leaps of 'La Campanella'. In these works, sublime virtuosity is always placed at the service of imagination, visual and literary almost as much as strictly musical. By the time Liszt had come to revise his earlier, even more testing version of the Paganini Etudes, finalising them in 1851 in the form familiar to us today, he had produced several more 'Concert Etudes', and the profound melancholy which afflicted his later years had begun to show through in a piece such as 'Un sospiro'. Liszt virtually invented the tone-poem or tone-painting as a musical genre, whether on the canvases of piano or orchestra. In Waldesrauschen we hear the activity of the forest - the fluttering of foliage, chirping of birds and so on - but even more we are transported into the mind of one who feels the crunch of every branch underfoot, fulfilling Beethoven's claim for his Pastoral Symphony that it was 'more the expression of feeling than tone-painting'. In the lesser-known 'Grande etude de perfectionnement', titled 'Ab irato', we sense the depths of Liszt's religious feeling, and the full measure of a profoundly Romantic sense of the scale between man and God, between heaven and hell, all within less than three minutes. The dryly entitled 'Concert Etudes' of Liszt thus plunge the listener into remarkably contrasting inner worlds.

To speak of Franz Liszt is to enter a world in which categories collapse. Virtuoso, visionary, reformer, celebrity, mystic - none of these labels is sufficient, and yet each illuminates a facet of a musician whose creative presence reshaped 19th-century musical life. He inhabited his age with a rare duality: outwardly the most electrifying pianist Europe had ever known, inwardly a thinker preoccupied with the ethical, spiritual and imaginative potential of art. That tension - between public spectacle and private enquiry - lies at the heart of an oeuvre whose range and unpredictability remain without parallel. Liszt's early fame rested on a pianistic style that expanded the technical and expressive boundaries of the instrument. His performances were not merely demonstrations of dexterity but events that altered the nature of concert listening itself, whether in orchestral appearances or in the solo recital format he effectively established. However, virtuosity was never an end in itself. From the 1830s onward, Liszt's compositions increasingly acknowledged poetic, literary and philosophical impulses, often signaled through titles, epigraphs or extra-musical associations. This stimulus would later crystallise in his codification of the symphonic poem, but it was equally present in his keyboard music, where narrative, argument and symbolism frequently replace abstract formal logic. A central expression of this aesthetic is Liszt's lifelong engagement with the march - a genre that might seem, on the surface, to withstand the kind of reflective complexity he prized. The march offered something irresistible: a form already laden with public meaning, ripe for reinterpretation. In his hands, it's regulated tread becomes a medium for ambiguity, it's grand gestures inflected with harmonic adventurousness, it's civic pronouncements quietly complicated by covert sensibility. The same impulse that drove him to revisit and rework earlier compositions in the light of new understanding shaped his relationship to the genre as a whole: returning to it across decades, he treated it not as a fixed form but as an evolving channel for dramatic, national and personal expression.

The internationally renowned pianist Yulianna Avdeeva presents Metanoia, a profound exploration of the late piano works of Franz Liszt, tracing his radical transformation from virtuoso to visionary. Liszt's late works mark a decisive break with traditional musical language and form, opening the door to 20th-century modernism through bold harmonic experimentation, compressed structures, and strikingly dissonant sonorities. Stripped of conventional melodic development, these brief but intense works convey deep existential reflection, touching on themes of faith, mortality, and the human condition. Initially met with resistance, they would later become a major influence on composers such as Bartok, Scriabin, Debussy, and Ravel. The album unfolds in reverse chronology, culminating in Liszt's Sonata in B Minor and Legende No. 2. The Sonata in B Minor stands as one of the most important works in the piano repertoire: a single-movement structure of extraordinary dramatic and philosophical scope, where contrasting themes emerge, collide, and transform into a journey from darkness to transcendence. For Avdeeva, Liszt's music is never purely virtuosic, but an existential inquiry into the deepest aspects of human experience - light and darkness, faith and doubt, life and death - revealing a composer who continually expanded the possibilities of musical thought and expression. Yulianna Avdeeva returns to PENTATONE after a string of critically acclaimed releases: her label debut Resilience (2023), followed by Chopin: Voyage (2024) and Shostakovich: 24 Preludes and Fugues Op. 87 (2025). Together, these recordings have garnered international awards and widespread acclaim across the globe.

Antonio Stradivari's 1700 'ex Cristiani-Stauffer' cello, considered to be one of the master's finest works, was purchased by the Walter Stauffer Musicology Center in Cremona. It is now on display at the Violin Museum in Cremona. The history of this cello, though at times uncertain, suddenly becomes clear when it comes to Lisa Cristiani, a Parisian cellist who acquired the instrument, definitively linking her name to Stradivari and the cello. Lisa died very young in 1853 at just 26 years old, a fleeting star on the musical scene of her time: in just a few years, she enchanted audiences with her extraordinary cello. Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy dedicated his Song Without Words, Op. 109, to her. But today, you can hear 'The Voice of Stradivari,' the voice of this precious cello, on this CD released by the Italian label MVcremona. The excellent performers are the cellist Giovanni Gnocchi, born in Cremona like Stradivari's cello, and the pianist Alessandro Stella. According to the renowned Italian critic Angelo Foletto, on this CD, 'Gnocchi exploits with loving interpretative skill and virtuosic ease every quality of the 18th-century 'Stauffer ex Cristiani' Stradivari cello, constructing a listening adventure of intriguing poetic subtlety and an intelligent assortment of accents.' SUONARE news, dicembre 2025 This cd includes some pieces written by cellist-composers themselves (Popper and Klengel). Other pieces were transcribed by famous concert performers and cello virtuosos of modern and contemporary times (Piatigorsky, Schiff, Isserlis). Others were dedicated by composers to their cellist friends, as in the case of Dvorak and Hanus Wihan, Liszt and Bernhard Cossmann, the living composer Ducros and Jerome Pernoo and Mendelssohn, who dedicated his Romances sans paroles op. 109 to Lisa Cristiani, then owner of this beautiful Stradivari. The final piece is an Italian masterpiece composed by Gioacchino Rossini: 'Une larme, theme et variations'. The combination of elegiac cantabile and explosive virtuosity encapsulates the characteristics that have inspired the musical choices in this CD. Rediscovered only in recent decades, it belongs to the Peches de vieillesse, the 'sins of old age' as Rossini called the many compositions he wrote in his later years and never published because, as he said, 'I do not publish anything; I only write because I cannot do anything else'. Composed in 1858, it offers the musician all the most typical elements of Rossini's genial style.

COMPLETE PIANO MUSIC 38: LES PRELUDES

COMPLETE PIANO MUSIC 16

This is a DSD (Direct Stream Digital) recording

Leif Ove Andsnes is a leading pianist of his time, known for his exceptional musicianship and subtil touch, his considerable technical flair being unfailingly put at the service of his interpretations. He was a pioneer for being the first home-trained superstar pianist to have emerged from Norway. This box is the story of a 20-year partnership that has yielded a rich seam of recorded treasures, first for Virgin and then for EMI. Running through this cornucopia of 34 albums (36 CDs), we find recurring themes: Grieg (Andsnes even recorded some Lyric Pieces on the composer's own piano at Troldhaugen), Nordic music in general, Schumann, Rachmaninov, Schubert.

Live recordings, 1972-1882. Ervin Nyiregyházi (1903-87) is largely forgotten today, but he was one of the greatest and most idiosyncratic pianists of the twentieth century, and his eccentric personality and bizarre career have few parallels in the history of music. These late concert recordings, all but four released here for the first time, are representative of Nyiregyházi's art, and should help to rehabilitate a lost genius whose reputation has rarely matched his artistic stature.

Few things are as much fun as big orchestral favorites performed by the Boston Pops Orchestra under the direction of the legendary Arthur Fiedler. This program, part of the RCA Living Stereo series, features splashy orchestral showpieces by Prokofiev, Liszt and Chopin.
Prokofiev's suite from his opera 'Love for Three Oranges' gets things off to a rousing start. Fiedler and his orchestra revel in the color and grotesque wit of Prokofiev's colorful score. Special note should be paid to the orchestra's sensitive playing in "Le prince et la princesse." Chopin's 'Les sylphides' is one of the most popular scores in the classical dance repertoire. On this recording, the delicate orchestrations of Leroy Anderson and Peter Bodge give the orchestra an opportunity to shine. Each dance is skillfully rendered and Fiedler gives the music ample room to breath. Two grand tone poems by Franz Liszt, 'Les préludes' and 'Mazeppa' round out the program. Fiedler and company are brilliant in 'Les préludes,' grasping the work's heroic soul without resorting to bombast. The RCA engineers provide startlingly vivid sound that is still of audiophile quality nearly forty years later.

LISZT: PIANO CONCERTOS NOS 1 &

The second Mephisto Waltz dates from the years 1878/9 to 1881. In it's orchestral version it was heard in Budapest in the latter year. The piano version was dedicated to Camille Saint-Saëns. The dance starts tentatively with the notes that suggest the diabolus in musica, the devil in music, the awkward interval of a tritone, and it is with the same allusive interval that the piece ends, after moods that swing from diabolic energy to more relaxed passages, still suggesting, after so many years, the literary inspiration that was it's original source. The third and fourth Mephisto Waltzes are also the product of Liszt's later years. The third piece was written in 1883. It was dedicated to Marie Jaëll, now living in Paris, a former pupil of Liszt, who described her as 'artiste éminente qui est hors ligne au-dessus de la réputation qu'elle a acquise'. From the outset the third Mephisto Waltz makes use of ambiguous intervals of a fourth that, in outline, make up the tentative opening, and remain a continuing feature, suggesting at times an inversion of the tuning of a violin. There are lyrical passages in a dance that largely lacks the diabolical fury that had impelled it's predecessor. The fourth Mephisto Waltz, dated March 1885, remained unpublished and apparently unfinished, since it's seems that Liszt intended to incorporate a contrasting Andantino section, for which he left sketches. As with other compositions of this last period of his life, the harmony is ambiguous, dominated by the scale motif of the opening. The first of the two Elegies was written in 1874 in memory of Madame Moukhanoff-Kalergis, née Countess Marie Nesselrode, a gifted pianist and pupil of Chopin, a leading member of Liszt's circle, commemorated in a concert in Weimar. The deep-felt mourning is expressed in a descending interval, heard at the outset and remaining a feature of the whole piece. The second Elegy, composed in 1878, was dedicated to Lina Ramann, Liszt's biographer, initially in a collusion with the Princess Sayn-Wittgenstein that later proved troublesome, and editor of his writings. She had a piano school in Nuremberg and had made a name for herself as a teacher, notably with her Grundriss der Technik des Klavierspiels (Ground Plan of the Technique of Piano Playing), adopted, on Liszt's recommendation, by the Royal Hungarian Music Academy in Budapest. A work of tender melancholy, the Elegy includes a gently lyrical passage marked dolcissimo amoroso, which leads to a passionate climax, resolving into final evocative simplicity. Liszt's Grosses Konzertsolo was written in 1849-50 for a competition at the Paris Conservatoire and was dedicated to the pianist Adolph von Henselt. Whether it was played then is unknown, but it presented daunting technical difficulties. Clara Schumann, to whom Liszt had sent a copy, refused to play it, privately criticizing what she regarded as empty virtuosity, while suggesting to Liszt that it was beyond the grasp of a mere woman, a work to which only Liszt himself could do justice. The first performance was apparently given by Carl Tausig. Liszt also arranged the work for piano and orchestra as Grand Solo de Concert, a version that remained unpublished, and for two pianos as Concerto Pathétique. The work represents a development of the now traditional sonata, including in a single movement contrasting elements of other movements, united by a single theme, from which others are derived. The principal theme of the Grosses Konzertsolo is heard at the start, the first part of the work moving to a chordal G major passage marked Grandioso, followed by a lyrical Andante sostenuto, opening in D flat major. A cadenza is followed by a continuation of this quasi-slow movement, now in more majestic and ornate form. The principal theme returns in something approaching it's original form, followed by the secondary theme, now in E minor and marked Andante, quasi marcia funebre, it's progress accompanied by a simulated muffled drumbeat, melting into the E major of the earlier Andante sostenuto and capped by a triumphant conclusion.

Famous Classics, Volume 3

Works For Cello And Piano

Wandererfantasie, Der Wanderer

BERNSTEIN FAVORITES- ORCHESTRA

Classical Music

Naxos’ ongoing complete Liszt piano music cycle reaches Volume 37 with the rarely heard first versions of three Petrarca Sonnets and Venezia e Napoli. The latter’s original incarnation included four rather than three movements. The opening movement features material that Liszt later recycled for his symphonic poem Tasso, with a middle section packed with scintillating arpeggios and rapid unison passages. It is followed by a brief declamatory movement, and then an Andante placido that would grow more elaborate, decorative, fluid, and imaginative as Gondoliera in the revised suite. Similarly, the later Tarantella is tighter and more dramatically cogent than its more diffuse yet no less demanding earlier counterpart. Among the three earlier Petrarca pieces, Sonetto No. 104’s differences particularly stand out from its later, more familiar revision, notably in a long, brooding introduction that Liszt replaced with the terser, agitated short phrases we know today.

Making his Naxos label debut, pianist Jue Wang plays best when his hands are fully occupied, as in the Tarantella’s bravura climaxes and long stretches of repeated notes, although Leslie Howard shapes the slower, rhetorical passagework with a stronger sense of the music’s declamatory nature and dynamic contrasts. While Wang captures the unquiet undercurrents of Schlaflos Frage und Antwort, his relatively heavy touch and general loudness take a back seat to Alfred Brendel’s faster and texturally clearer account on his Philips recording.

However, Wang’s light and supple Toccata points up the work’s foreshadowing similar textures and harmonic ambiguities of Debussy and Bartók. He tosses off the brief, flashy Galop de bal and the more substantial A minor Galop with tremendous character and technical finish, and serves up an ebullient Grand Galop chromatique that takes Liszt’s tempos and accentuations more seriously than the deliciously wacky Cziffra, whose galloping horse is closer to a souped-up bumper car. Keith Anderson’s annotations are up to his usual high standards.

-- Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

Liszt Complete Piano Music, Vol. 19: Beethoven Symphonies No

Classical Music

Liszt: Schubert Song Transcriptions

A decade or so ago, a recital of Franck and Liszt from Murray Perahia might have caused some surprise. But one of the most refreshing things about this artist is his growing refusal to be typecast. The Franck (like all but two of the Liszt pieces) was recorded at The Maltings in Snape, a venue he knows and likes so well. This I enjoyed for its stylish reminders of the composer's long devotion to the Church—i.e. for a strain of simple devoutness, free from all heart-on-sleeve emotionalism, with which he invests the first two movements. The central choral is allowed an easy flow, and I liked his dynamic restraint in the first two statements of the chorale theme itself so as to leave plenty in reserve for the characteristically Franckian emergence from darkness into light as the work progresses. Discreet pedalling ensures that texture never clots in the fugue, and the homecoming is truly joyous.

The rest of the 60 minutes go to Liszt, and here my only slight (but only very slight) disappointment came in the Mephisto Waltz, recorded in UCLA's Royce Hall in Los Angeles. Needless to say it is played with all Perahia's customary command, finesse and what I can only describe as aristocratic musical discernment. Yet I still felt that just that last touch of devilry was missing on the dance-floor (even more piquant accentuation might perhaps have helped), and likewise the ultimate in lingering sensuous seduction in Liszt's "lascivious, caressing dreams of love". For the rest I have nothing but praise—starting with the cutting intensity Perahia brings to the melodic line in Petrarch's tale of unrequited love ("Sonetto 104"). By comparison, Louis Lortie on Chandos (in a less forward and less sharp-cut sounding recent Maltings recording) seems to shrink from this sonnet's acutest disquiet and pain—such as in the passage marked agitato, and then crescendo and rinforzando from about 3'46"-4'17" in track 5 of Perahia's disc. Perahia's liquidity in "Au bard d'une source" and shimmering whispers in the first Concert Study, "Waldesrauschen" (as spacious as Arrau's—now part of the Philips Arrau Edition) are wholly ravishing as sound per se, while "Gnomenreigen" in its turn brings reminders of that delicately scintillating brilliance that always gave him a place apart when gambol ling with Mendelssohn in concerto finales. His range of keyboard colour in the concluding Rhapsodic espagnole (the second and finer of Liszt's pair) is as ear-catching as are his rhythmic spring, his teasing caprice and his exuberant climaxes.

Full marks to his engineers for so faithfully capturing so wide a dynamic range—and, incidentally, to Sony for including so generously spacious a booklet (with full quotations from Lenau, Petrarch and Schiller).

-- Joan Chissell, Gramophone [10/1991]

Erika Haase continues her ambitious project of recording the most significant etudes of piano literature. This time she has tackled the etudes by Franz Liszt. The daredevil difficulties for the pianist playing these works are legend. She masters them with bravura and enriches them with her own highly sensitive musical note.