Chapter XIV: Part II (4)

And if Liszt affected his contemporaries, he also trained his successors, Tausig, Von Buelow, and Rubinstein--the latter was never an actual pupil, though he profited by Liszt's advice and regarded him as a model. Karl Tausig, the greatest virtuoso after Liszt and his equal at many points, died prematurely. Never had the world heard such controlled, plastic, and objective interpretations. His iron will had drilled his Slavic temperament so that his playing was, as Joseffy says, "a series of perfectly painted pictures." His technic, according to those who heard him, was perfection. He was the one pianist sans peur et sans reproche. All schools were at his call. Chopin was revived when he played; and he was the first to hail the rising star of Brahms--not critically, as did Schumann, but practically, by putting his name on his eclectic programmes. Mr. Albert Ross Parsons, the well-known New York pianist, critic, and pedagogue, once told the present writer that Tausig's playing evoked the image of some magnificent mountain. "And Joseffy?" was asked--for Joseffy was Tausig's favourite pupil. "The lovely mist that enveloped the mountain at dusk," was Mr. Parsons's happy answer. Since then Joseffy has condensed this mist into something more solid, while remaining quite as beautiful.

Rubinstein I heard play his series of historical recitals, seven in all; better still, I heard him perform the feat twice. I regret that it was not thrice. If ever there was a heaven-storming genius, it was Anton Rubinstein. Nicolas Rubinstein was a wonderful artist; but the fire that flickered and flamed in the playing of Anton was not in evidence in the work of his brother. You felt in listening to Anton that the piece he happened to be playing was heard by you for the first time--the creative element in his nature was so strong. It seemed no longer reproductive art. The same thing has been said of Liszt. Often arbitrary in his very subjective readings, Rubinstein never failed to interest. He had an overpowering sort of magnetism that crossed the stage and enveloped his audience with a gripping power. His touch, to again quote Joseffy, was like that of a French horn. It sang with a mellow thunder. An impressionist in the best sense of that misunderstood expression, he was the reverse of his rival and colleague, Hans von Buelow.

The brother-in-law, a la main gauche, of that Brother of Dragons, Richard Wagner, Von Buelow was hardly appreciated during his first visit to America in 1876-77. Rubinstein had preceded him by three seasons and we were loath to believe that the rather dry, angular touch and clear-cut phrasing of the little, irritable Hans were revelations from on high. Nevertheless, Von Buelow, the mighty scholar, opened new views for us by his Beethoven and Bach playing. The analyst in him ruled. Not a colourist, but a master of black and white, he exposed the minutest meanings of the composer that he presented. He was the first to introduce Tschaikowsky's brilliant and clangorous B-flat minor concerto. Of his Chopin performances, I retain only the memory of the D-flat Nocturne. That was exquisite, and all the more surprising coming from a man of Von Buelow's pedantic nature. His last visit to this country, several decades ago, was better appreciated, but I found his playing almost insupportable. He had withered in tone and style, a mummy of his former alert self.

The latter-day generation of virtuosi owe as much to Liszt as did the famous trinity, Tausig, Rubinstein, Von Buelow. Many of them studied with the old wizard at Rome, Budapest, and Weimar; some with his pupils; all have absorbed his traditions. It would be as impossible to keep Liszt out of your playing--out of your fingers, forearms, biceps, and triceps,--as it would be to return to the naive manner of an Emmanuel Bach or a Scarlatti. Modern pianoforte-playing spells Liszt.

After Von Buelow a much more naturally gifted pianist visited the United States, Rafael Joseffy. It was in 1879 that old Chickering Hall witnessed his triumph, a triumph many times repeated later in Steinway Hall, Carnegie Hall, the Metropolitan Opera House, and throughout America. At first Joseffy was called the Patti of the Pianoforte, one of those facile, alliterative, meaningless titles he never merited. He had the coloratura, if you will, of a Patti, but he had something besides--brains and a poetic temperament. Poetic is a vague term that usually covers a weakness in technic. There are different sorts of poetry. There is the rich poetry of Paderewski, the antic grace and delicious poetry of De Pachmann. The Joseffian poetry is something else. Its quality is more subtle, more recondite than the poetry of the Polish or the Russian pianist. Such miraculous finish, such crystalline tone had never before been heard until Joseffy appeared. At first his playing was the purest pantheism--a transfigured materialism, tone, and technic raised to heights undreamed of. Years later a new Joseffy was born. Stern self-discipline, as was the case with Tausig, had won a victory over his temperament as well as his fingers. More restrained, less lush, his play is now ruled by the keenest of intellects, while the old silvery and sensuous charm has not vanished. Some refused to accept the change. They did not realise that for an artist to remain stationary is decadence. They longed for graceful trifling, for rose-coloured patterns, for swallow-like flights across the keyboard, by a pair of the most beautiful piano hands since Tausig's. In a word, these people did not care for Brahms and they did care very much for the Chopin Valse in double notes. But the automatic piano has outpointed every virtuoso except Rosenthal in the matter of mere technic. So we enjoy our Brahms from Joseffy, and when he plays Liszt or Chopin, which he does in an ideal style, far removed from the tumultuous thumpings of the average virtuoso, we turn out in numbers to enjoy and applaud him. His music has that indefinable quality which vibrates from a Stradivarius violin. His touch is like no other in the world, and his readings of the classics are marked by reverence and authority. In certain Chopin numbers, such as the Berceuse, the F-minor ballade, the barcarolle, and the E-minor concerto, he has no peer. Equally lucid and lovely are his performances of the B-flat major Brahms concerto and the A-major concerto of Liszt. Joseffy is unique.

There was an interregnum in the pianoforte arena for a few years. Joseffy was reported as having been discovered in the wilds above Tarrytown playing two-voiced inventions of Bach, and writing a new piano school. Arthur Friedheim appeared and dazzled us with the B-minor Sonata of Liszt. It was a wonder-breeding, thrilling performance. Alfred Gruenfeld, of Vienna, caracoled across the keys in an amiably dashing style. Rummel played earnestly. Ansorge also played earnestly. Edmund Neupert delivered Grieg's Concerto as no one before or since has done. Pugno came from Paris, Rosenthal thundered; Sauer, Stavenhagen, Siloti, Slivinski, Mark Hambourg, Burmeister, Hyllested, Faelten, Sherwood, Godowsky, Gabrilowitsch, Vogrich, Von Sternberg, Jarvis, Richard Hoffmann, Boscovitz--to go back some years; Alexander Lambert, August Spanuth, Klahre, Lamond, Dohnanyi, Busoni, Baerman, Saint-Saens, Stojowski, Lhevinne, Rudolph Ganz, MacDowell, Otto Hegner, Josef Hofmann, Reisenauer--none of these artists ever aroused such excitement as Paderewski, though a more captivating and brilliant Liszt player than Alfred Reisenauer has been seldom heard.

It was about 1891 that I attended a rehearsal at Carnegie Hall in which participated Ignace Jan Paderewski. The C-minor concerto of Saint-Saens, an effective though musically empty work, was played. There is nothing in the composition that will test a good pianist; but Paderewski made much of the music. His tone was noble, his technic adequate, his single-finger touch singing. Above all, there was a romantic temperament exposed; not morbid but robust. His strange appearance, the golden aureoled head, the shy attitude, were rather puzzling to public and critic at his debut. Not too much enthusiasm was exhibited during the concert or next morning in the newspapers. But the second performance settled the question. A great artist was revealed. His diffidence melted in the heat of frantic applause. He played the Schumann concerto, the F-minor concerto of Chopin, many other concertos, all of Chopin's music, much of Schumann, Beethoven, and Liszt. His recitals, first given in the concert hall of Madison Square Garden, so expanded in attendance that he moved to Carnegie Hall. There, with only his piano, Paderewski repeated the Liszt miracle. And year after year. Never in America has a public proved so insatiable in its desire to hear a virtuoso. It is the same from New Orleans to Seattle. Everywhere crowded halls, immense enthusiasms. Now to set all this down to an exotic personality, to occult magnetism, to sensationalism, would be unfair to Paderewski and to the critical discrimination of his audiences. Many have gone to gaze upon him, but they remained to listen. His solid attainments as a musician, his clear, elevated style, his voluptuous, caressing touch, his sometimes exaggerated sentiment, his brilliancy, endurance, and dreamy poetry--these qualities are real, not imaginary.

No more luscious touch has been heard since Rubinstein's. Paderewski often lets his singing fingers linger on a phrase; but as few pianists alive, he can spin his tone, and so his yielding to the temptation is a natural one. He is intellectual and his readings of the classics are sane. Of poetic temperament, he is at his best in Chopin, not Beethoven. Eclectic is the best word to apply to his interpretations. He plays programmes from Bach to Liszt with commendable fidelity and versatility. He has the power of rousing his audience from a state of calm indifference to wildest frenzy. How does he accomplish this? He has not the technic of Rosenthal, nor that pianist's brilliancy and power; he is not as subtle as Joseffy, nor yet as plastic in his play; the morbid witchery of De Pachmann is not his; yet no one since Rubinstein--in America at least--can create such climaxes of enthusiasm. Deny this or that quality to Paderewski; go and with your own ears and eyes hear and witness what we all have heard and witnessed.

I once wrote a story in which a pianist figured as a mesmeriser. He sat at his instrument in a crowded, silent hall and worked his magic upon the multitude. The scene modulates into madness. People are transported. And in all the rumour and storm, the master sits at the keyboard but does _not_ play. I assure you I have been at Paderewski recitals where my judgments were in abeyance, where my individuality was merged in that of the mob, where I sat and wondered if I really _heard_; or was Paderewski only going through the motions and not actually touching the keys? His is a static as well as a dramatic art. The tone wells up from the instrument, is not struck. It floats languorously in the air, it seems to pause, transfixed in the air. The Sarmatian melancholy of Paderewski, his deep sensibility, his noble nature, are translated into the music. Then with a smashing chord he sets us, the prisoners of his tonal circle, free. Is this the art of a hypnotiser? No one has so mastered the trick, if trick it be.

But he is not all moonshine. The truth is, Paderewski has a tone not as large as mellow. His fortissimo chords have hitherto lacked the foundational power and splendour of d'Albert's, Busoni's, and Rosenthal's. His transition from piano to forte is his best range, not the extremes at either end of the dynamic scale. A healthy, sunny tone it is at its best, very warm in colour. In certain things of Chopin he is unapproachable. He plays the F-minor concerto and the E-flat minor scherzo--from the second Sonata--beautifully, and if he is not so convincing in the Beethoven sonatas, his interpretation of the E-flat Emperor concerto is surprisingly free from morbidezza; it is direct, manly, and musical. His technic has gained since his advent in New York. This he proved by the way he juggled with the Brahms-Paganini variations; though they are still the property of Moritz Rosenthal. He is more interesting than most pianists because he is more musical; he has more personal charm; there is the feeling when you hear him that he is a complete man, a harmonious artist, and this feeling is very compelling.

The tricky elf that rocked the cradle of Vladimir de Pachmann--a Russian virtuoso, born in Odessa (1848), of a Jewish father and a Turkish mother (he once said to me, "My father is a Cantor, my mother a Turkey")--must have enjoyed--not without a certain malicious peep at the future--the idea of how much worriment and sorrow it would cause the plump little black-haired baby when he grew up and played the pianoforte like the imp of genius he is. It is nearly seventeen years since he paid his first visit to us. His success, as in London, was achieved after one recital. Such an exquisite touch, subtlety of phrasing, and a technic that failed only in broad, dynamic effects, had never before been noted. Yet De Pachmann is in reality the product of an old-fashioned school. He belongs to the Hummel-Cramer group, which developed a pure finger technic and a charming euphony, but neglected the dramatic side of delivery. Tone for tone's sake; absolute finesse in every figure; scales that are as hot pearls on velvet; a perfect trill; a cantilena like the voice; these, and repose of style, are the shibboleth of a tradition that was best embodied in Thalberg--plus more tonal power in Thalberg's case. Subjectivity enters largely in this combination, for De Pachmann is "modern," neurotic. His presentation of some Chopin is positively morbid. He is, despite his marked restrictions of physique and mentality, a Chopin player par excellence. His fingers strike the keys like tiny sweet mallets. His scale passages are liquid, his octave playing marvellous, but en miniature--like everything he attempts. To hear him in a Chopin polonaise is to realise his limitations. But in the larghetto of the F-minor concerto, in the nocturnes and preludes--not of course the big one in D minor--etudes, valses, ah! there is then but one De Pachmann. He can be poetic and capricious and elfish in the mazurkas; indeed, it has been conceded that he is the master-interpreter of these soul-dances. The volume of tone that he draws from his instrument is not large, but it is of a distinguished quality and very musical. He has paws of velvet, and no matter what the difficulty, he overcomes it without an effort. I once called him the _pianissimist_ because of his special gift for filing tones to a whisper. His pianissimo begins where other pianists end theirs. Enchanting is the effect when he murmurs in such studies as the F minor of Chopin and the Concert study of Liszt of the same tonality; or in mounting unisons as he breathlessly weaves the wind through the last movement of Chopin's B-flat minor sonata. Less edifying are De Pachmann's mannerisms. They are only tolerated because of his exotic, lovely, and disquieting music.

Of a different and a gigantic mould is the playing of Moritz Rosenthal. He is a native of Lemberg, in Galician Poland, a city that has held among other artists, Marcella Sembrich and Carl Mikuli, a pupil of Chopin and editor of an edition of his works. When a mere child, twelve years or so, Moritz walked from Lemberg to Vienna to study with Joseffy. Even at that age he had the iron will of a superman. He played for Joseffy the E-minor concerto of Chopin, the same work with which the youthful Joseffy years before had won the heart of Tausig. Setting aside Tausig--and this is only hearsay--the world of "pianism" has never matched Rosenthal for speed, power, endurance; nor is this all. He is both musical and intellectual. He is a doctor of philosophy, a bachelor of arts. He has read everything, is a linguist, has travelled the globe over, and in conversation his unerring memory and brilliant wit set him as a man apart. To top all these gifts, he plays his instrument magnificently, overwhelmingly. He is the Napoleon, the conqueror among virtuosi. His tone is very sonorous, his touch singing, and he commands the entire range of nuance from the rippling fioritura of the Chopin barcarolle to the cannon-like thunderings of the A-flat polonaise. His octaves and chords baffle all critical experience and appraisement. As others play presto in single notes, so he dashes off double notes, thirds, sixths, and octaves. His Don Juan fantaisie, part Liszt, part Mozart, is entirely Rosenthalian in performance. He has composed at his polyphonic forge a Humoreske. Its interweaving of voices, their independence, the caprice and audacity of it all are astounding. Tausig had such a technic; yet surely Tausig had not the brazen, thunderous climaxes of this broad-shouldered young man! He is the epitome of the orchestra and in a tonal duel with the orchestra he has never been worsted. His interpretations of the classics, of the romantics, are of a superior order. He played the last sonatas of Beethoven or the Schumann Carneval with equal discrimination. His touch is crystal-like in its clearness, therefore his tone lacks the sensuousness of Paderewski and De Pachmann. But it is a mistake to set him down as a mere unemotional mechanician. He is in reality a Superman among pianists.

Eugen d'Albert has played in America several times, the first time in company with Sarasate, the Spanish violin virtuoso. Liszt called d'Albert, of whom he was very fond, the "second Tausig." The Weimar master declared that the little Eugen looked like, played like, his former favourite, Karl Tausig. In his youth d'Albert was as impetuous as a thunderbolt; now he is more reflective than fiery, and he is often careless in his technical work. Another pianist who has followed the lure of composition; but a great virtuoso, a great interpreter of the classics. His music suggests a close study of Brahms, and in his piano concertos he is both Brahmsian and Lisztian.

The first time I heard Saint-Saens was in Paris the year 1878. He played at the Trocadero palace--it was the Exposition year--his clever variations on a Beethoven theme for two pianos, Madame Montigny-Remaury being his colleague. In 1896 I attended the fiftieth anniversary of his first public appearance. The affair took place at a piano hall in Paris. And several years ago I heard the veteran, full of years and honours, in New York. He had changed but little. The same supple style, siccant touch, and technical mastery were present. Not so polished as Plante, so fiery--or so noisy--as Pugno, Saint-Saens is a greater musician than either at the keyboard. His playing is Gallic--which means it is never sultry, emotional, and seldom poetic. The French pianists make for clearness, delicacy, symmetry; France never produced a Rubinstein, nor does she cordially admire such volcanic artists.

Ossip Gabrilowitsch has been for me always a sympathetic pianist. He has improved measurably since his previous visits here. The poet and the student still preponderate in his work; he is more reflective than dramatic, though the fiery Slav in him often peeps out, and if he does not "drive the horses of Rubinstein," as Oscar Bie once wrote, he is a virtuoso of high rank. The Bie phrase could be better applied to Mark Hambourg, who sometimes is like a full-blooded runaway horse with the bit between its teeth. Hambourg has Slavic blood in his veins and it courses hotly. He is an attractive player, a younger Tausig--before Tausig taught himself the value of repose and restraint. Recklessly Hambourg attacks the instrument in a sort of Rubinsteinian fury. Of late he has, it is said, learned the lesson of self-control. His polyphony is clearer, his tone, always big, is more sonorous and individual. It was the veteran Dr. William Mason who predicted Hambourg's future. Exuberance and excess of power may be diverted into musical channels--and these Mark Hambourg has. It is not so easy to reverse the process and build up a temperament where little naturally exists.

Josef Hofmann, from a wonder child who influenced two continents, has developed into an artist who has attained perfection--a somewhat cool perfection, it may be admitted. But what a well-balanced touch, what a broad, euphonious tone, what care in building climaxes or shading his tone to mellifluous whisper! Musically he is impregnable. His readings are free from extravagances, his bearing dignified, and if we miss the dramatic element in his play we are consoled by the easy sweep, the intellectual grasp, and the positively pleasure-giving quality of his touch. Eclectic in style, Hofmann is the "young-old" master of the pianoforte. And he is Polish in everything but Chopin. But well-bred! Perhaps Rubinstein was right when he said, so is the report--at Dresden, "Jozio will never have to change his shirt at a recital as I did."

Harold Bauer is a great favourite in America as well as in Paris. He has a quiet magnetism, a mastery of technical resources, backed by sound musicianship. He was a violinist before he became a pianist; this fact may account for his rich tone-quality--Bauer could even make an old-fashioned "square" pianoforte discourse eloquently. He, too, is an eclectic; all schools appeal to him and his range is from Bach to Caesar Franck, both of whom he interprets with reverence and authority. Bauer played Liszt's Dance of Death in this country, creating thereby a reputation for brilliant "pianism." The new men, Lhevinne, Ganz, Scriabine, Stojowski, are forging ahead, especially the first two, who are virtuoso artists. The young Swiss, Ganz, is a very attractive artist, apart from his technical attainments; he is musical, and that is two-thirds of the battle. Two men who once resided in America, Ferrucio Busoni and Leopold Godowsky, went abroad and conquered Europe. Busoni is called the master-interpreter of Bach and Liszt; the master-miniaturist is the title bestowed upon the miracle-working Godowsky, whose velvety touch and sensitive style have been better appreciated in Europe than America.

The fair unfair sex has not lacked in representative piano artists. Apart from the million girls busily engaged in manipulating pedals, slaying music and sleep at one fell moment, there is a band of keyboard devotees that has earned fame and fortune, and an honourable place in the Walhalla of pianoforte playing. The modern female pianist does not greatly vary from her male rival except in muscular power, and even in that Sofie Menter and Teresa Carreno have vied with their ruder brethren. Pianists in petticoats go back as far as Nanette Streicher and come down to Paula Szalit, a girl who, it is said, improvises fugues. Marie Pleyel, Madame de Szymanowska--Goethe's friend at Marienbad, in 1822--Clara Schumann, Arabella Goddard, Sofie Menter, Annette Essipoff--once Paderewski's adviser, and a former wife of Leschetitzky; Marie Krebs, Ingeborg Bronsart, Aline Hundt, Fannie Davies, Madeliene Schiller, Julia Rive-King, Helen Hopekirk, Nathalie Janotha, Adele Margulies, the Douste Sisters, Amy Fay, Dory Petersen, Cecilia Gaul, Madame Paur, Madame Lhevinne, Antoinette Szumowska, Adele Aus der Ohe, Cecile Chaminade, Madame Montigny-Remaury, Madame Roger-Miclos, Marie Torhilon-Buell, Augusta Cottlow, Mrs. Arthur Friedheim, Laura Danzinger Rosebault, Olga Samaroff, Fannie Bloomfield Zeisler--these are a few well-known names before the public during the past and in the present.

Walter Bache Solati Reisenauer Carl V. Lachmund
Mrs. Scott-Siddons Harry Waller

The Final Liszt Circle at Weimar

(Liszt at the upper window)]

It may be assumed that the sex which can boast among its members such names as Jane Austen, George Sand, George Eliot, novelists; Vigee Lebrun, Mary Cassatt, Cecilia Beaux, and Berthe Morisot, painters; Sonia Kovalevsky, mathematician; Madame Curie, science; Elizabeth Barrett Browning and Christina Rossetti, poetry, would not fail in the reproductive art of pianoforte playing. Clara Schumann was an unexcelled interpreter of her husband's music; Sofie Menter the most masculine of Liszt's feminine choir; Essipoff unparalleled as a Chopin player; Carreno has a man's head, man's fingers, and woman's heart; Fannie Bloomfield Zeisler, an artist of singular intensity and strong personality--these women have admirably contributed to the history of their art and need not fear comparisons on the score of sex.

How far will the pursuit of technic go, and what will be the effect upon the mechanical future of the instrument? It is both a thankless and a dangerous task to prophesy; but it seems that technic _qua_ technic has ventured as far as it dare. Witness the astounding arrangements made by the ingenious Godowsky, the grafting of two Chopin studies, both hands autonomous, racing at full speed! The thing is monstrous--yet effective; but that way musical madness lies. The Janko keyboard, a sort of ivory toboggan-slide, permitted the performance of incredible difficulties; glissandi in chromatic tenths! But who in the name of Apollo cares to hear chromatic tenths sliding pell-mell down-hill! Music is music, and a man or woman must make it, not alone an instrument. The tendency now is toward the fabrication of a more sensitive, vibrating sounding-board. Quality, not brutal quantity, is the desideratum. This, with the more responsive and elastic keyboard action of the day, which permits all manner of finger nuance, will tell upon the future of the pianoforte. Machine music has usurped our virtuosity; but it can never reign in the stead of the human artist. And therefore we now demand more of the spiritual and less of the technical from our pianists. Music is the gainer thereby, and the old-time cacophonous concerto for pianoforte and orchestra will, we hope, be relegated to the limbo of things inutile. The pianoforte was originally an _intimate_ instrument, and it will surely go back, though glorified by experience, to its first, dignified estate.

I have written more fully of the pianists that I have had the good fortune to hear with my own ears. This is what is called impressionistic criticism. Academic criticism may be loosely defined as the expression of another's opinion. It has decided historic interest. In a word, the former tells how much _you_ enjoyed a work of art, whether creative or interpretive; the latter what some other fellow liked. So, accept these sketches as a mingling of the two methods, with perhaps a disproportionate stress laid upon the personal element--the most important factor, after all, in criticism.

INSTEAD OF A PREFACE

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.

J. H.

INDEX

Acton, Lord, 14.

Adam, Madame Edmond. (See Juliette Lamber.)

Adelaide (Beethoven's), 216.

Albano, 79.

Aldega, Professor, 381.

Aldrich, Richard, 195.

Alkan, 63, 408.

Allegri, 84.

Allmers, W., 79.

Altenburg, The (Liszt's house at Weimar), 21, 24, 47, 48, 53, 261,
362, 389.

Amalia, Anna, 328.

Amalie Caroline, Princess of Hesse, 198.

Amiel, 64.

Andersen, Hans Christian, account of a Liszt concert, 230-234.

Anfossi, 80.

Ansorge, Conrad (pupil), 98, 332, 425.

Antonelli, Cardinal, 22, 49, 50.

Apel, Frau Pauline (Liszt's housekeeper), 327.

"Apres une lecture de Dante" (Hugo), 152.

Apthorp, W. F., 172, 173;
analysis of the Concerto in A major, 173, 174.

Arnim, Countess Bettina von, 42, 43, 261;
Graf von, 89, 261.

Auber, 172, 204, 281.

Auerbach, Berthold, 139.

Aufforderung zum Tanz (Weber), 93, 205, 207, 253.

Augener & Company, 181.

August, Karl, 328.

"Aus der Glanzzeit der Weimaren Altenburg" (La Mara), 44.

Aus der Ohe, Adele (pupil), 24, 436.

Austen, Jane, 436.

Ave Maria (Schubert's), 216.

Bach, 32, 62, 185, 375, 381, 425, 435;
Chevalier Leonard E., 312.

Bache, Walter (pupil), 196, 312, 384-386.

Bachez, 226.

Baerman, 425.

Bagby, Albert Morris (pupil), 370.

Baillot, 204, 209.

Bakounine, 38.

Ballads (Chopin), 186, 399, 424.

Ballanche, 78.

Balzac, 26, 39.

Barber of Bagdad (Cornelius), 48.

Barcarolle (Chopin), 424, 431.

Barna, Michael, 198, 199.

Barnett, J. F., 385.

Barry, C. A., 127, 139.

Bartolini, 416.

Baudelaire, 19.

Bauer, Caroline, Reminiscences of, 241-244;
Harold, 174, 435.

Beale, Frederick, 308;
Willert, 308.

"Beatrix" (Balzac), 39.

Beato, Fra, 84.

Beethoven, 4, 5, 6, 10, 13, 30, 31, 32, 52, 54, 55, 62, 67, 84,
105, 115, 120, 160, 171, 179, 185, 186, 202, 204, 210, 217,
281, 375, 381, 408, 409, 411, 413, 420, 432;
festival at Bonn, 225, 376;
his piano, 262, 339;
statue of, unveiled, 226.

"Beethoven et Ses Trois Styles" (von Lenz), 201.

Belgiojoso, Princess Cristina, 8, 14, 16, 42, 82, 286.

Belloni, 213, 237.

Bendix, Max, 66.

Benedict, Julius, 283, 284.

Berceuse (Chopin), 186, 424.

Bergerat, Emile, 320.

Beringer, Oscar, 376, 377.

Berlioz, 5, 6, 8, 10, 17, 19, 20, 26, 28, 29, 30, 31, 36, 47, 53, 55,
64, 67, 82, 85, 105, 145, 155, 157, 158, 169, 171, 183, 186,
193, 200, 204, 258, 259, 282, 300, 337, 411, 415;
account of his friendship with Liszt, 210-217;
letter to Liszt, 215-217.

Berne, 81.

Berta, 91.

Bethmann, Simon Maritz, 15.

Bie, Oscar, 433.

Bielgorsky, Count, 294, 296, 297.

Birmingham Musical Festival, 195.

Bishop, Sir Henry, 307.

Bismarck, 179.

Bizet, 378-380.

_Blackwood's Magazine_, 304.

Blaze de Bury, Baron, article on Liszt, 218, 219.

Blessington, Countess of, 252.

Bocella, 165.

Bock, Anna, 276.

Borodin, 24, 27.

Boscovitz, 425.

Boesendorfer, 171.

Bossuet, 26.

Bourget, Paul, 141.

Bovary, Emma, 16.

Brahm, Otto, 332.

Brahms, 9, 19, 53, 57, 153, 185, 187, 375, 405, 408, 421, 424, 425,
433.
Brandes, Georg, 5.

Breidenstein, Professor, 226.

Breithaupt, Rudolf, 402.

Breitkopf and Haertel, 94, 197, 408.

Brendel, Franz (pupil), 194.

Breughel, 28.

"Briefe und Schriften" (von Buelow), 179.

Bright, John, 11.

Broadwood piano, 339.

Bronsart, Hans von (pupil), 172;
Ingeborg von, 401, 436.

Bulgarin, 124.

Buelow, Daniela von, 279;
Hans von (Liszt's favorite pupil), 15, 19, 21, 45, 93, 96, 101,
136-138, 168, 176, 177, 179, 228, 229, 362, 402, 420, 422, 423;
Appreciation of Die Ideale, 136;
Criticism of, 398, 400.

Bunsen, Von, 83.

Burmeister, Richard (pupil), 24, 52, 177, 178, 340, 359, 425.

Burne-Jones, 18.

Busoni, Ferrucio, 402, 408, 425, 428, 435.

Byron, 11, 16, 34, 115, 124, 398.

Cabaner, 29.

Callot, 28.

Calvocoressi, 56.

Campo Santo of Pisa, 175.

Canterbury, Lord, 252.

Carolsfield, J. Schnorr von, 79.

Carreno, Teresa, 402, 436, 437.

Casanova, 34.

Catarani, Cardinal, 49.

Catel, 89.

Cezano, Marquise. (See Olga Janina.)

Chamber music, 195.

Chaminade, Cecile, 436.

Chantavoine, Jean, 56.

Charpentier, 10.

Chateaubriand, 11, 26, 29, 43, 64.

Chelard, 226.

Cherubini, 204.

Chopin, Frederic Francois, 4, 5, 6, 7, 12, 14, 15, 17, 19, 26, 29,
38, 39, 40, 43, 59, 60, 63, 73-77, 145, 186, 201, 204, 238, 282,
287, 288, 300, 308, 328, 367, 372, 375, 381, 405, 408, 415, 416,
418, 419.

Chorley, 225, 228, 252.

Christophe, Jean; description of Liszt, 2.

Church music, 187, 188, 190, 193, 194.

Cimarosa, 80.

Circourt, Madame de, 319, 320.

Clementi, 62, 302.

Coblentz, Tribute from citizens of, 244.

Cognetti, Mademoiselle, 98.

Collin, Von, 115.

Cologne, cathedral at, 248.

Colpach (Munkaczy's castle in Luxemburg), 25, 44, 280.

Commettant, Oscar, satirical sketch of, 219, 220.

Concerto (Bach), 293.

Concerto (Beethoven), 202.

Concerto (Chopin), 396, 424, 426, 428, 430.

Concerto (Tschaikowsky), 422.

Concertstueck (Weber's), 212, 219, 288, 293.

Consalvi, Cardinal, 79.

Constant, Benjamin, 11.

"Conversation on Music" (Rubinstein), 156.

Coriolanus (Beethoven's), 115.

Cornelius, Peter (pupil), 19, 22, 27, 28, 83, 89, 139, 165, 260, 362,
419.

Correggio, 28.

_Correspondent, The_, 210.

Cosima von Buelow Wagner, 15, 20, 23, 25, 44, 49, 58, 93, 96, 101, 141,
228.

Cottlow, Augusta, 436.

Coutts, Baroness Burdett, 312.

Craig, Gordon, 332.

Cramer, J. B., 62, 184, 225, 302.

Crux Fidelis (choral), 133.

Crystal Palace, London, 139.

Cymbal effects in piano-playing, 161.

Czaky, Archbishop of, 200.

Czerny, Carl, 13, 72, 73, 182, 184, 302, 308, 317, 406.

Czinka, Pauna, a gypsy girl, 199.

D'Agoult, Comte Charles, 15;
Countess (Marie Sophie de Flarigny), 3, 14, 15, 25, 37, 39-41, 43,
80, 85, 86, 87, 246, 247, 259, 391.

D'Albert, Eugen (pupil), 24, 174, 359, 370, 372, 402, 428, 432.

Damnation de Faust (Berlioz), 199.

Damrosch, Leopold (pupil), 118, 138, 139, 174, 197.

D'Angers, David, 416.

Dannreuther, 20, 152, 181, 191, 193.

Dante, 8, 147-152, 155;
gallery (Rome), 382.

Danton, 220, 221.

Danube flood, 81.

Danzinger-Rosebault, Laura, 436.

Davies, Fannie, 436.

Da Vinci, 28.

_Debats, The_, 211.

De Beriot, 283.

Debussy, 10, 31.

Dehmel, Richard, 332.

Delacroix, 5.

Delaroche, 16, 28.

De Musset, 39.

De Pachmann, Vladimir, 24, 61, 423, 427, 429-431, 432.

De Quincy, 27.

Devrient, Ludwig, 139.

Dictionary of Musicians, 385.

Dietrichstein, Prince, 359.

Dilke, Wentworth, 228.

Dinglested, 48.

Diorama, The, 152.

Dobrjan (Liszt's birthplace). (See Raiding.)

Doehler, 17.

Dohnanyi, 425.

Don Carlos, 241.

Donizetti, 63, 86.

Doppler, Franz, 158.

Dore, Gustave, 28.

D'Ortigue on Liszt, 217, 218.

Douste sisters, 436.

Draeseke, 21.

Dukas, 10.

Du Plessis, Marie, 19.

Dupre, Jules, 11.

Dwight, John S. (Boston musical critic), interview with Liszt, 228,
229.

Eckermann, 64.

Edict of Louis XII, 80.

"L'Education Sentimentale" (Flaubert), 26.

Ehlert, Louis, 17, 363.

El Greco, 28.

Eliot, George, 43, 47, 53, 436;
Weimar recollections of, 258.

Ellet, Mrs., account of a Liszt concert in Cologne, 248, 249.

Ellis, Havelock, 12

Enfantin, Pere Prosper, 14.

Eperjes, 198.

Erard piano, 59, 301, 318, 323.

Ernani, 258.

Ernst, Paul, 332.

Escudier, Leon, description of Danton's statuette of Liszt, 220, 221;
incident at one of Henri Herz's concerts, 221, 222.

Essipoff, Annette, 436, 437.

Essler, Fanny, 235.

Esterhazy, Prince, 304;
estates, 12.

Etruscan Museum, 83.

_Etude, The_, 381.

Etudes (Chopin), 75.

Euryanthe, Overture to, 181.

Faelten, 425.

Fallersleben, Hoffmann von (lyric poet), 165, 260.

Fantasia (Bach), 383.

Fantasia (Schumann), 57.

Faure, 281.

Faust (Lenau's), 71.

Faust Ouverture, Eine (Wagner's), 143.

Fay, Amy, 38, 436.

Feodorovna, Empress Alexandra, 295.

Fetis and Moscheles, 185.

Feuerbach, 89.

Fichtner, Pauline, 24.

Field, 368.

_Figaro, The_ (London), 384.

Finck, Henry T., 165, 179, 194, 196, 314.

Fischer, Signor, 345;
Wilhelm, 147.

Fischof, 226.

Flaubert, Gustave, 16, 26.

Flavigny, Vicomte de, 15.

Foyatier, 18.

Francia, 84.

Francis Joseph, king of Hungary, 96.

Franck, Caesar, 435.

Franz, Robert, 19, 66, 229, 411.

Frederic (piano tuner), 287.

"Frederick Chopin" (Niecks), 74.

_Freemason's Journal, The_, 389.

Freischuetz (Weber's), 205, 214.

Friedheim, Arthur (pupil), 24, 70, 359, 368-373, 425.
Mrs. Arthur, 436.

Gabrilowitsch, Ossip, 425, 433.

Galitsin, Prince (governor-general of Moscow), 294.

Galleria Dantesca, 102.

Garcia, Viardot, 388.

Garibaldi, 89.

Gaul, Cecilia, 276, 436.

Gautier, Judith, 17;
Marguerite, 40;
Theophile, 5, 11.

Gauz, Rudolph, 425, 435.

_Gazette Musicale_ (Paris), 77, 179, 193, 287, 288.

Geneva, 15, 81.

Genoa, 81.

George IV, 304.

Gericke (conductor), 147, 151.

Gervais, 359.

Gille, 21.

Gillet, 281.

Giocati-Buonaventi, A., 390.

Giorgione, 28.

Glinka, 297, 298.

Gluck, 30, 84.

Goddard, Arabella, 436.

Godowsky, Leopold, 402, 425, 435, 437.

Goethe, 9, 11, 15, 19, 22, 34, 43, 47, 64, 78, 84, 85, 88, 89, 113,
145, 146, 155, 165, 167, 196, 211, 223, 279, 328, 329, 330, 436;
foundation, 48.

Goethe-Schiller monument, unveiling of, 133.

Goellerich, August (pupil and biographer), 44, 49, 55, 57, 58, 98,
118, 359.

Goncourt, 26.

Gott, Joseph, 381.

Gottschalg, A. W. (pupil), 21, 56;
"Franz Liszt in Weimar," 358.

Gounod, 217.

Gradus (Clementi), 59.

Graefe, 280.

Gran (Hungary), Basilica at, 188.

Gregorovius, 78, 79, 88, 89, 91, 93, 98, 102.

Gregory VII, 56;
XIV, 83.

Grieg, Eduard, 24, 425;
piano concerto, 313-316.

Grove, Sir George, 385.

Gruenfeld, Alfred, 425.

Gruenwald, Matthew, 28.

Guido of Arezzo, 73.

Gumprecht, 29.

Habeneck (conductor), 204.

Hackett, Francis, 14.

Hagn, Charlotte von, 42.

Hahn, Arthur, 112.

Haehnel, Professor, 226.

Hale, Philip, 5, 66, 127, 135, 151, 171, 174, 320.

Halevy, 204, 378.

Hall, Walter (conductor), 192.

Hambourg, Mark, 425, 434.

Handel, 31, 120, 304, 381.

Handley, Mrs., 319.

Hanslick, Eduard, 53, 139, 171.

Harold, 106.

Harmonic system, 419.

Hauptmann, 385.

Hayden, 10.

Haydn, Joseph, 12, 31, 84, 105, 142, 160, 172, 409.

Healey, 417.

Hegel, 233.

Hegner, Otto, 425.

Heine, 9, 11, 17, 124, 165;
reminiscences of Liszt, 234-241.

Helbig, Madame Nadine (Princess Nadine Schakovskoy) (pupil), 42, 102.

Henderson, W. J., 192;
on the St. Elisabeth Legend, 192, 193.

Henselt, 209.

Herder, Jonathan Gottfried, 130, 328.

Hermann, Carl (pupil), 276.

Herwegh, George, 235.

Herz, Henry, 17, 65, 221, 222, 308.

Herz-Parisian school, 59.

Hill, Edward Burlingame, 381.

Hiller, Ferdinand, 3, 35, 53, 293, 320.

History of Charles XII (Voltaire), 124;
of the French Revolution (Francois Mignet), 14.

Hoffman, Richard, 425;
recollections of Liszt, 316-318.

Hofgaertnerei, The (Liszt's residence in Weimar), 23, 58, 389.

Hofmann, Josef, 425, 434.

Hohenlohe, Cardinal Prince, 22, 93, 94, 97.

Hohenlohe-Schillingsfuerst, Prince, 48.

Hopekirk, Helen, 436.

Hotel d'Alibert (Liszt's residence in Rome), 98, 340.

"Hour Passed with Liszt, An" (By B. W. H.), 275-279.

Hueffer, Dr., 166.

Hugo, Victor, 5, 108, 124, 152, 165, 204.

Huguenots (Meyerbeer's), 145.

Humboldt, 48, 78.

Hummel, J. N., 12, 13, 73, 202, 224;
concerto, 304, 317.

Hundt, Aline, 436.

Hungarian Diet, debate in, 200;
Museum (Budapest), 338.

Hyllested, 425.

Ideale, Die (Schiller), 133, 134.

Idealism, 59.

Ibsen, 71.

"Inchape Bell" (Parry), 310.

Ingres, Jean Auguste Dominique, 83, 84, 416, 417.

Irving, Henry, 32.

Ivanowski, Peter von (father of the Princess Sayn-Wittgenstein), 45.

James, Henry, 27, 141.

Janin, Jules, 40, 228.

Janina, Olga (pupil), 41.

Janko keyboard, 437.

Janotha, Nathalie, 436.

Jarvis, 425.

Jensen, Adolf, 363.

Joachim, Joseph (pupil), 3, 19, 53, 57, 358.

Joseffy, Rafael (pupil), 24, 57, 63, 66, 374-376, 418, 421, 425,
427, 431.

Jonkovsky, Baron, 417.

Kahrer, Laura, 24.

Kalkbrenner, 17, 65, 201, 202, 204, 205-207, 302.

Kapellmeister, 21.

Kapp, Julius, 55, 56, 57.

Karlsruhe (music festival at), 93.

Kaulbach, Wilhelm von, 9, 28, 84, 132, 416.

Kemble, Fanny, 244;
impression of Liszt, 245.

Kennedy, Mgr., 343, 344.

Kessler, Count, 332.

Kieff, 45.

Kindworth, Karl (pupil), 362, 403.

Kirkenbuhl, Karl, extracts from his "Federzeichnungen aus Rom,"
267-275.
Kissingen, 280.

Kistner (Leipsic publisher), 414.

Klahre, Edwin (pupil), 425.

Kleinmichael's piano score, 142.

Klindworth, Agnes Street, 42.

Klinger, Max, 331, 334.

Klinkerfuss, Johanna, 24.

Kloss, George, 389.

Kohler, Louis (pupil), 138.

Kovacs, 338.

Kovalensky, Sonia, 437.

Kraftmayr (Von Wolzogen), 57.

Krebs, Marie, 436.

Krehbiel, H. E., 10.

Kremlin, 29.

Kriehuber, 417.

Krockow, Countess, 363.

Kullak, 383.

La Mara (Marie Lipsius) (pupil), 35, 39, 41, 44, 49.

Lamartine, 9, 204, 398.

Lamb, Charles, 30.

Lamber, Juliette, criticism of George Sand, 39.

Lambert, Alexander (pupil), 174, 425.

Lamenais, 14, 79.

Lamond, Frederick, 312, 425.

Landes Musikakademie, 97.

Lanyi, Joann von, 199.

Laprunarede, Adele (Duchesse de Fleury) (pupil), 37.

Lassen, 19.

Laussot, Jessie Hillebrand, 42.

Lavenu, 309, 310.

Legouve, Ernest, 214;
comparison of Liszt and Thalberg's playing, 281-291, 416.

Lehmann, 259.

Leipsic school, 52.

Lenau, 71, 398.

Lenbach, 416, 417.

Lenz, Von (pupil), account of his acquaintance with Liszt, 201-210.

Leonora Overture (Beethoven's), 153.

Leo XII, 80;
XIII, 345, 390.

Leopold I, Emperor, 198.

Leschetitzky, 436.

"Lettres d'un Voyageur" (George Sand), 322.

Leyrand, 416.

Lewald, Fanny, 79.

Lewes, George Henry 43, 48.

Lhevinne, 425, 435;
Madame, 436.

Lichnowsky, Prince Felix, 241-243.

Liedertafel, Rhenish, 248, 249.

Lie, Erika, 313.

Liliencron, Baron Detlev von, 331.

Lind, Jenny, 403.

Lindemann-Frommel, 89.

Liondmilla, 298.

Lipsius, Marie. (See La Mara.)

Listemann (conductor), 147.

Liszt, Adam, 12, 317;
Anna Lager, 12;
Blandine, 15, 90, 97;
Cosima (see Cosima von Buelow Wagner);
Daniel, 15, 16, 97;
Edward, 169.

Liszt, Franz, abuse of, in Germany, 3;
affectation in his work, 157;
alters harmonic minor scale, 163;
amiability of, 21;
amusing story of conversion, 320-326;
anecdotes, 57, 58, 101, 142, 180, 221, 237, 243, 254, 255, 378;
appreciation of Saint-Saens, 104, 105;
as a teacher, 14, 23;
as Abbe, 18, 50, 97, 267, 275;
biographers of, 51, 55, 56, 101;
birth of, 11, 12;
birthplace of, 13;
boyhood of, 13, 14, 300-305;
in Budapest, 97;
character of his music, 29, 30, 78;
children of, 15, 16, 86, 359;
chivalry of, 11, 34, 56;
Chopin's obligation to, 6, 73-77;
comment on his 13th Psalm, 194, 195;
comparison of established symphonic form with that devised by Liszt,
140;
compared with Wagner, 108, 143, 144;
as composer, 1, 2, 13, 14, 20, 31, 35, 43, 52-56, 86, 90, 103, 144,
327, 377, 409-413;
concerts of, 34, 212, 221, 223, 224, 230, 235, 248, 288, 292, 293,
302, 305, 319;
as conductor, 2, 87, 135, 258, 377;
conducts at Aix-la-Chapelle, 135;
conducts in Berlin, 137;
conducts at Prague, 136;
conducts at Pesth, 94, 96;
conducts in Rome, 94;
conducts in Weimar, 88;
conversation of, 258, 259, 276;
court musical director (Weimar), 22, 46, 47;
creator of the symphonic poem, 26, 27, 106, 139, 140;
criticisms regarding, 2, 8, 14, 17, 21, 64, 153-158, 194, 360, 399;
and the Countess d'Agoult, 14-16, 80, 81, 85, 391;
daily mode of life, 99, 100;
death of, 1, 2, 25, 280;
dedications, 57, 100, 169, 172;
description of his ideal of romantic religious music, 193;
in England, 300-313;
fascinating personality of, 45, 235, 236, 241, 246, 256, 257;
feminine friendships of, 34-43;
fingering, 74, 187;
Freemason, 389;
friendship with Berlioz, 212;
friendship with Cardinal Prince Hohenlohe, 22;
friendship with Chopin, 14, 40;
friendship with Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres, 83, 84;
and Marguerite Gautier, 40;
generosity of, 24, 101, 257, 258;
gifts from sovereigns, 328;
greatest contribution to art, 4;
hand of, 328, 339;
illness of, 44, 135;
impressionability of, 8, 10, 11;
improvisations of, 82, 180, 181;
indebtedness to Chopin, 76;
influence of Berlioz, 17, 55, 411;
influence of Chopin, 17, 145, 411;
influence of gipsy music, 160;
influence of Meyerbeer, 145;
influence of Paganini, 17;
influence of Wagner, 191;
ingratitude of Schumann, 57;
on instruments of percussion, 170, 171;
interest in German art, 90;
interest in Tausig, 362;
interpretation, 87;
interview with, 228, 229;
intimacy with Prince Lichnowsky, 241-243;
intrigues against, 22;
introduces interlocking octaves, 77;
introduces the piano recital, 71, 419;
and Olga Janina, 41;
lack of appreciation of, 31, 141, 229;
and the Countess Adele Laprunarede, 37;
letters of, 9, 35, 37, 44, 46, 92, 135, 136, 138, 143, 150, 169, 170,
171, 179, 194, 195, 197, 219, 279, 280, 289, 290, 394, 414;
literary work of, 19, 20;
in London, 300-313;
loss of Piano Method, Part III, 358;
love affairs of, 2, 3, 19-23, 36-41, 88;
and Lola Montez, 40, 41;
musical style of, 4, 181;
musical imagination, 8, 146;
notation, 187;
number of compositions, 56;
orchestral form, 194;
orchestral instrumentation, 157;
orchestral music of, 32, 123, 190;
as organ composer, 401, 402;
original compositions of, 412, 413;
on origin of his Tasso, 115;
on origin of his Orpheus, 121;
parents of, 12, 14, 251;
in Paris, 13, 24;
patience of, 27;
pedalling, 62, 99, 187;
pen picture of, 57;
personal appearance, 18, 82, 98, 204, 231, 255, 262, 269, 276, 296,
297;
personal characteristics, 2, 3, 17, 66, 71, 327;
pianoforte virtuoso, 1, 2, 8, 14, 16, 18, 43, 56, 73, 94, 106, 247,
251, 252, 420;
piano music of, 10, 11, 53, 66, 123, 168, 187, 409-413;
piano recitals, 82, 83, 179, 308-311, 419;
piano reform, 91;
piano of, 328, 340, 342, 343, 394;
and the Countess Louis Plater, 37;
playing of, 17, 60-64, 87, 99, 141, 161, 208, 214, 223, 224, 232,
233, 238-240, 253, 266, 277, 278, 285, 292, 314, 316, 421;
plays Weber's Sonatas, 207, 208;
plays at Berlioz's, 210;
at Bizet's, 379;
at court of Wurtemburg, 252;
at Karlsruhe, 93;
at Legouve's, 215;
at Munkaczy's, 25;
at Tolstoy's, 102;
at Windsor Castle, 304;
portraits of, 16, 18, 42, 261, 289, 338, 416, 417;
prediction at birth of, 12;
predominating artistic influences, 17;
prophecy of, 100;
public speaking of, 179, 213, 226, 227;
pupils of, 24, 36, 42, 51, 52, 57, 91, 98, 185, 263, 353-388;
alphabetical list of pupils, 353-358;
reading of, 14;
realism of, 67;
reformer of church music, 2;
religious fervor of, 89-92, 97, 98, 196;
residences in and around Rome, 343;
revolutionist, 142;
romanticism of, 11, 14, 28;
in Rome, 78-85, 89-97, 102;
in Russia, 294-300;
and Caroline de Saint-Criq, 36, 37;
and George Sand, 39, 40, 247;
and the Princess Sayn-Wittgenstein, 19-24, 43-51;
Schumann's indebtedness to, 56;
as song writer, 165-168;
started new era in Hungarian music, 160;
statues of, 13, 18, 220, 221, 332;
success of, 13, 52;
as teacher, 14, 97, 100, 209, 339, 358, 395-397;
technique of, 34, 62, 70, 72, 152, 313, 402, 407, 421, 437;
temperament of, 28, 29;
tempo, 164, 165, 187;
testimonials, 328;
theological studies of, 95;
theory of gipsy music, 20;
thought his career a failure, 26;
tirelessness of, 17;
tomb of, 25, 58;
the triangle, 170-172;
tribute by Wagner, 23;
variety of rhythms of, 31;
versatility of, 51, 88, 144;
on virtuosity, 392, 393;
Wagner's indebtedness to, 1, 3, 5, 6, 9, 31, 55, 141-144;
Wagner's praise, 9, 103, 142;
wanderings of, 34, 70, 81, 85, 87, 93, 94-96, 97;
in Weimar, 19, 23, 46, 47, 87, 88, 96, 169, 329;
writing for solo and choral voices, 190.

Liszt, Franz--Works:
Alleluja, 92.
Angelus, 195, 196.
Apparitions, The, 66.
Ave Maria, 92, 224, 294.
Ballad in B minor, 399.
Ballades, 66, 186.
Benediction de Dieu, 143.
Berceuse, 186.
Choere zu Herder's Entfesselte Prometheus, 130, 131.
Chorus of Angels, 196, 197.
Concert Study, 430.
Concertos, 168-174, 187;
Concerto Pathetique in E minor, 66, 177, 178;
Concerto for piano and orchestra, No. 1, in E flat, 67, 168-172;
Concerto for piano, No. 2, in A major (Concert Symphonique), 66,
172-174.
Consolations, 187, 412.
Don Sancho, 14.
Elegier, The, 66.
Etudes, 66, 72, 181-185, 305, 408;
Etude in D flat, 99;
Etude in F minor, No. 10, 72;
Etudes de Concert (three), 72, 184;
Etudes d'execution transcendante (twelve), 72, 86, 181, 182;
Etudes en douze exercices, Op. 1, 181;
Etudes, second set of, 182;
Ab-Irato, 66, 72, 184, 185;
Au Bord d'une Source, 70, 72;
Au Lac de Wallenstadt, 72;
Danse Macabre, 84, 182, 187;
Feux-follets, 72, 184;
Gnomenreigen, 72, 92, 184, 400;
Harmonies du Soir, 72, 183, 184;
Irrlichter, 400;
Ricordanza, 72, 184, 187;
Studies of Storm and Dread, 183;
Vision, 183;
Wilde Jagd, 183;
Waldesrauschen, 72, 92, 184;
Excelsior, 143.
Evocatio in der Sixtinischen Kapelle, 90, 143.
Fantasias, 179-181, 401;
Annees de Pelerinage, 11, 66, 70, 86, 152, 187, 412;
Fantasia on Don Juan, 298, 407, 418, 432;
Fantasia Dramatique, 187;
Fantasia on Reminiscences of Puritani, 82;
Fantasia on Themes by Pacini, 292;
Fantaisie quasi sonata apres une lecture de Dante, 86;
Il Penseroso, 84, 86;
operatic fantasias, 180, 181;
Lucia, 63, 180;
Sonnambula, 180;
Sposalizio, 84, 86;
Tre Sonetti di Petrarca, 86, 187.
Funeral March on occasion of Maximilian of Mexico's death, 96.
Galop Chromatique, 293, 298.
Glanes de Woronice, 25.
Harmonies, 412;
Harmonies Pestiques et Religieuses, 66.
Heilige Caecelia, Die (essay), 84.
Hungarian gipsy music, book on, 19.
Hungarian March, 317.
Legends, 66, 412;
Legend of St. Elisabeth, 88, 90, 143, 191-193, 272, 273, 312;
St. Francis of Assisi's Hymn to the Sun, 88;
St. Francis of Assisi Preaching to the Birds, 92, 186, 412;
St. Francis de Paula Stepping on the Waves, 92, 186, 412.
Masses, 4, 54, 187-194;
Graner Festmesse, 29, 30, 53, 92, 95, 188, 190, 191, 193, 342;
Hungarian Coronation Mass, 95, 96, 189, 190, 270, 271.
Mazurkas, 66, 186.
Mephisto, Waltz, 71, 178, 231.
Nocturnes, 66.
Oratorios, 4, 54;
Oratorio of Christus, 54, 90, 95, 101, 104, 193, 194, 328;
Oratorio of Petrus, 273.
Organ variations on Bach themes, 92, 93;
organ and trombone composition, 88.
Piano arrangements, 86;
Adelaide, 294, 298;
Beethoven symphonies, 87, 90;
Beethoven quartets, 93, 95;
Erlkoenig, 93, 224, 294, 298.
Polonaises, 25, 70, 186.
Psalms, 13, 18, 23, 90, 92, 137, 194, 195;
Thirteenth Psalm, 92, 194, 195.
Rakoczy March, 94, 189, 198-200, 337.
Requiem, 97.
Rhapsodies Hongroises, 53, 65, 100, 157, 158-165, 178, 187, 189, 367,
407, 412;
list of, 158, 159.
Scherzo und Marsch in D minor, 186.
Serenade, 294.
Soirees de Vienne, 25.
Sonata in B minor, 29, 57, 59-70, 186, 187, 425.
Songs, 165-168.
Sonnets after Petrarch, 66.
Studies and fragments, 82.
Study of Chopin, 19.
Symphonic poems, 4, 9, 10, 26, 27, 52, 53, 54, 72, 103, 104, 106-158,
168, 172, 377;
La bataille des Huns, after Kaulbach (Hunnenschlacht), 84, 107,
132, 133, 143, 153;
Ce qu'on Entend sur la montagne (Berg Symphony), 107, 108-112, 153,
328, 415;
Fest-klaenge, 107, 126-129, 136, 153, 328;
From the Cradle to the Grave, 132;
Hamlet, 107, 132, 153;
Heroide funebre, 107, 131, 153, 178;
Hungaria, 132, 153, 328;
L'Ideal, after Schiller, 107, 133-139, 143, 153, 367;
Mazeppa, 72, 103, 107, 123-126, 183, 407;
Orphee, 103, 107, 121, 122, 143, 328;
Les Preludes, after Lamartine, 107, 119-121, 136, 153, 367;
Promethee, 107,122, 123, 130, 131;
Tasso, Lamento and Trionfo, 107, 113-118, 136, 153, 367;
Le Triomphe funebre du Tasse (epilogue), 97, 118, 197.
Symphonies:
Dante Symphony, 11, 19, 38, 53, 94, 102, 104, 143, 146-155;
Faust Symphony, 22, 38, 53, 58, 141-146, 154, 155, 328, 415;
Revolutionary Symphony, 14, 38, 132, 142.
Todtentanz, 174-177, 238, 407, 435.
Transcriptions, 65, 66, 86, 90, 93, 95, 96, 97, 211, 253, 412;
Isolde's Liebestod, 96;
Paganini studies, 184, 185, 223;
Symphonie Fantastique, 211.
Valse-impromptu, 186;
Valse Oubliee, 66.

Liszt fund, 257.

"Liszt und die Frauen" (La Mara), 35, 42.

Litolff, Henri, 19, 169.

Littleton, Alfred, 311;
Augustus, 313;
Henry, 311, 312.

"Le Livre de Caliban" (Bergerat), 320.

Lohengrin (Wagner), 19, 47, 54, 137, 188, 329, 377.

Lorenzetti, Pietro and Ambrogio, 175.

Lotto, Lorenzo, 18.

Louis I, of Bavaria, 89.

Louis, Rudolf (Liszt biographer), 101.

Lytton, Lord, 133.

MacColl, D. S., tribute to music, 32, 33.

MacDowell, Edward (pupil), 24, 425.

Mackenzie, Sir A. C., 195, 312.

Macready (tragedian), notes from diary of, 252.

Madach, "The Tragedy of Mankind," 338.

Madonna del Rosario (cloister), 90.

Maeterlinck, 71.

Mahler, Gustav, 65.

Mai, Cardinal, 83.

Maiden's Lament, The (Schubert's), 167.

Makart, Hans, 338.

Malibran, 82, 204.

Manet, Edouard, 32.

Manns, August, 139.

Marcello, 84.

Margulies, Adele, 436.

Marschner, 6.

Mason, Dr. William (pupil), 19, 143, 434.

Massocia, 79.

Matisse, 28.

Maupassant, Guy de, 26.

Maximilian of Mexico, 96.

Mazurka (Chopin), 65, 186.