Yours most sincerely,
F. Liszt
177. To Concertmeister Ferdinand David in Leipzig
[Printed in Eckardt's "F. David and the Mendelssohn Family,"
Leipzig, Dunker & Humblot, 1888.]
Leipzig, February 26th, 1857, 10 o'clock
[Preceding the body of the letter, Liszt illustrates with a vocal
score musical excerpt with the words "Away! Away!" written in
English by Liszt. It is a quotation from Liszt's Symphonic Poem
"Mazeppa," which he had conducted in the Leipzig Gewandhaus on
the same day as the "Preludes," and with which he had had ill-
success. David, who was present as leader of the orchestra,
"disapproved" - according to Eckardt - of Liszt's composing
tendency, but continued, till his life's end, "filled with
admiration for the incomparable artist and genial man," in the
friendliest relations with Liszt.]
Before I go to bed let me give you my most sincere and heartfelt
thanks, my very dear friend, which I owe you for this evening.
You have proved yourself anew such a thorough gentleman
[Gentleman, put in English by Liszt] and high-standing artist at
this evening's concert.
That is nothing new in you, but it gives me pleasure, as your old
friend, to repeat old things to you, and to remain ever yours
most gratefully,
Franz Liszt
178. To Wladimir Stassoff in St. Petersburg
[A Russian writer, a musical and art critic, at present director
of the Imperial Public Library at St. Petersburg.]
An illness, not in the least dangerous, but very inconvenient,
since it obliges me to keep my bed rather often (as at this
moment), has deprived me of the pleasure of replying sooner to
your very kind letter, firstly to thank you for it, and also to
tell you how delighted I shall be to make acquaintance with Mr.
Scroff's manuscripts, which you kindly introduce to me in so
persuasive a manner. Many people who have the advantage of
knowing Mr. Seroff, among others Mr. de Lenz and Prince Eugene
Wittgenstein, have spoken of him to me with great praise, as an
artist who unites to real talent a most conscientious
intelligence. It will be of great interest to me to estimate the
work to which he has devoted himself with such praiseworthy
perseverance, and thus to avail myself of the opportunity offered
to me of hearing those sublime works of the LAST PERIOD (I
purposely put aside
the inappropriate word MANNER, and even the term STYLE) of
Beethoven - works which, whatever Mr. Oulibicheff and other
learned men may say who succeed more easily in POURING FORTH in
these matters than in being well versed [A play on words - verser
and verse.] in them, will remain the crowning point of
Beethoven's greatness.
With regard to the edition of these scores of Mr. Seroff's for
two pianos, I will willingly do what you wish, though at the same
time confessing to you that my credit with the editors is not
worth much more than my credit with the above-mentioned learned
men, as these latter do their best to keep all sorts of cock-and-
bull stories going, which prevent the editors from running any
risk in mad enterprises they have so peremptorily been pointed
out to be! And, more than this, you are not ignorant that
arrangements for two pianos - the only ones adapted to show the
design and the grouping of ideas of certain works - are but little
in favor with music-sellers and very unsaleable, as the great
mass of pianists is scarcely capable of PLAYING ON the piano, and
cares very little (except sometimes for form's sake and human
respect) for the interest of intelligence and feeling which might
attach to the promenades of their fingers. In spite of all this,
please rest assured, sir, that I shall neglect nothing that can
justify the confidence you place in me, and pray accept the very
sincere regards of
Yours most truly,
F. Liszt
Weymar, March 17th, 1857
I am awaiting with impatience the parcel you promise me, and beg
you to make it as large as possible, so that I may make a
thorough acquaintance with Mr. Seroff's work. Especially be so
good as not to forget the arrangement of Beethoven's latter
Quartets.
179. To Wilhelm von Lenz in St. Petersburg
For pity's sake, dear friend, don't treat me like Moscheles;
don't think I am dead, although I have given you some little
right to think so by my long silence. But there are so many
"demi"-people, and demi-clever people (who are at least as
dangerous to Art as the demi-monde is to morals, according to
Alexandre Dumas), who say such utter stupidities about me in the
papers and elsewhere, that I really should not like to die yet,
if only not to disturb their beautiful business. You were even
complaining of one single whistling blackbird [Merle; means also
a whistling or hissing fellow.] pastorally perched on your book -
what shall I say then of the croaking of that host of ravens and
of obliques hiboux [Oblique owls; the term is repeated
afterwards, and evidently refers to some joke, or else to some
remark of Lenz's. - Translator's note.] that spreads like an
"epidemic cordon" all the length of the scores of my Symphonic
Poems? - Happily I am not made of such stuff as to let myself be
easily disconcerted by their "concert," and I shall continue
steadfastly on my way to the end, without troubling about
anything but to do what I have to do - which will be done, I can
promise you. The rest of your "Beethoven," of which you speak,
has never reached me, and for six months past I have not had any
news of B., who, I am afraid, finds that he is clashing with some
rather difficult editorial circumstances, but from which I
presume he will have the spirit to free himself satisfactorily.
