MUSIC

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 950, 17 April 1930, Page 16

MUSIC

LISZT’S HOME

(By

F.1.R.)

A MUSICAL PILGRIMAGE MEMORIES OF WEIMAR On the outskirts of Weimar, where the town loses itself in the encircling wood known as the Belvedere, stands r. small two-storeyed house, writes HUS- It is a quiet and deserted spot. The stranger at its gate hears only the rustle of the wind in the trees and the splash of the Ilm as it races past not a stone’s throw away. He is 60 years too late to hear another sound that once floated out of the windows and mingled with the music of wind and stream —-the sound of a piano played by the incomparable Franz Liszt. From 1869 till 1885 this house was Liszt's home. It was given him by the Archduke Karl Alexander when, tired of his wandering virtuoso existence, he decided to settle for the second time in Weimar. The strongest ties of association bound him to the little Thuringian town. In earlier years he had fulfilled his ambition of making it the centre of German musical life, just as. in the preceding century, Goethe and Schiller had focussed the attention of the literary world upon it. As director of the Court Theatre he had worked with iiery enthusiasm in the cause of the New Music, and many a contemporary composer—his son-in-law, Wagner, Schumann and Berlioz among them —owed him a debt of gratitude for bringing their works before the public. The debt was rarely paid, but Liszt cared little. The New Music was all that mattered —that and the Princess zu Sayn Wittgenstein, grandest of his grand passions, with whom he was at that time living in a state of great content at the castle Altenberg. But in 1869 things were changed. The Liszt who came to the house in the Belvedere was 58, and more than a little world-weary. He had abandoned his career as a virtuoso, and never appeared in public except to further some charitable cause. The princess had left Weimar for Rome, where she lived the life of a recluse, absorbed in theological studies. Liszt's own religious emotion was in the ascendant; a few years later he was to be ordained a minor canon of the Roman Church. White-haired and picturesque in his Abbe’s dress, he carried on the teaching which was in these latter days his chief musical activity, and pupils from all parts of the world came flocking to Weimar. The garden path we were now treading seemed peopled with their ghosts. NOTHING CHANGED

The door was opened to us by a buxom, black-eyed old woman. We wanted to see the Liszt House? Certainly. One mark (a shilling) each, please, and would we follow her up the stairs —there were nothing but domestic offices on the ground floor. On the landing she threw open a door. “The music room,” she said, with such indescribable reverence in her voice that we almost felt it incumbent on us to remove our shoes before we crossed the threshold. The room w-as large, with four windows overlooking the park. Under one of them shone the polished surface of Liszt’s Bechstein grand; along the wall stood an upright piano on which he used to accompany his pupils. There were shabby little old-fashioned chairs and couches, a writing table, copious red Algerian curtains. "The room,” said the old woman, “is exactly as it was when Liszt lived in it. Nothing has been changed.” And she produced a photograph showing the venerable Abbe seated at his desk to prove the truth of her words. Then, while I sat down and deferentially fingered the Bechstein she stood by the instrument, and, with a dreamy light in her eyes, broke into garrulous reminiscence. It was plain that Liszt was for her and her mother (who died three years ago, very old) a king among men. He was always gentle, always kind, always freundlich. Wagner, whom she had also often seen, was “haughty and ungrateful.” Von Bulow was frequently “bose” (bad-tempered). She recalled with a relish a day when Liszt being ill. Von Bulow had given lessons in his stead, and had sent one papil after another leaping panic-stricken down the stairs. She had known, she said, all three of the Liszt d’Agoult children: showed us a picture of Daniel, a delicate, fine-looking boy, and deplored his early death at 17; spoke of Cosima (Wagner's widow), and deplored her protracted life of 90 odd years. LISZT RELICS Two rooms open off the music room, a small, bare bedroom containing a bed. a washstand, a "Stummeklavier” for silent practice—little else, and the one-time dining-room. Here a profusion of Liszt relics is now displayed. Melancholy personalia! There are i ountless walking-sticks, innumerable decorations, including his red Abbe’s cross, a collection of extraordinary pipes, given him by various admirers (“A waste,” said Dora Beck disgustedly. “He smoked nothing but cigars”), a marble bust of Queen Victoria, presented by her to the pianist

after a recital at Buckingham Palace. More interesting was the autograph score of “Lohengrin” (first produced by Liszt in Weimar), a letter from Wagner to Liszt in small exquisitely legible writing, and a note in French in Liszt’s large sprawling hand. We had indeed seen all, short of Liszt himself. But Frau Beck had provided such a living link with him, had succeeded in conjuring up the past so completely, that we felt we had left Liszt upstairs, seated at his Bechstein. We walked down the path to the strains of the Ninth Hungarian Rhapsody.

CHAMBER MUSIC

AUCKLAND SOCIETY’S RECITAL ON MONDAY WEEK For its first concert to be held at the Lewis Eady Hall on Monday, April 28, the Auckland Chamber Music Society has prepared a very interesting programme. Tschaikowsky’s “Trio in A Minor, Op. 50,” composed in memory of his friend, Nicholas Rubinstein, and Dvorak's “Piano Quintet in A Major, Op 81,” will be the instrumental numbers, and a bracket of five songs, “The Young Nun” (Schubert), ‘ Standchen” (Strauss), “Reverie” (Hahn), “A Mood” (Alison Travers) and Del Riego’s “Shadow March,” will be sung by Mrs. Cyril Towsey. The box plan opens for subscribers at Lewis Eady, Ltd., on April 23 and for non-subscribers on April 24.

HISLOP AS BURNS

FILM TRIUMPH SINGS FAMOUS SONGS An English talking picture, “The Loves of Robert Burns,” has just been completed. The outstanding interest attached to this film is through the fact that Joseph Hislop, the famous Scottish tenor who visited New Zealand recently, plays the leading role. “That Mr. Joseph Hislop, the famous

tenor, loves to portray the poet Burns is clear from the passionate intensity of his performance,” states the “Daily Mail.” “Allied, as this is, to flawless acting technique and a speaking voice with a range and grace as striking as his lovely songs, Mr. Hislop’s screen debut is a triumph. “Mr. Hislop sings half a dozen or more famous songs—“O’ a’ the airts,’ ‘Go Fetch to Me a Pint o’ Wine,’ ‘Should Auld Acquaintance,’ ‘Coming Thro’ the Rye,’ and so on—in the course of the film. "He has the advantage of a genuine accent, he has the advantage of a charming lyrical tenor voice, which he manages with the utmost art. It is curious that the reproduction of his singing voice strikes one as much more faithful than that of some of the speech, which is often brassy and distorted. “It may be that Mr. Hislop is rather too refined a singer to represent the bucolic Burns; but to insist on that would be hypercritical when the effect is so agreeable—so much more agreeable than one had dared to hope,” says the critic.

POPULAR SONGS

Theme songs continue in popularity. Among the latest received from Alberts are, “In a Kitchenette,” which is one of the popular hits from “The Gold Diggers of Broadway”; “Nobody But You,” from “Hollywood Revue”; "You’U Find Y'our Answer in My Eyes,” from “Romance of the Rio Grand”; and "Chant of the Jungle Untamed.” A very popular little number is “The Shepherd's Serenade,” which was heard sung recently by Ramon Navarro in “Devil May Care.” This is a pretty little song, different from the usual type. The “Return of the Gay Cabalero” should also prove a popular number. The lyrics are by Frank Crummitt.