Exactly why this splendid set of Franz Liszt piano transcriptions is only now seeing the light of day after being recorded in July 2007 (at the Klaipeda Concert Hall in Klaipeda, Lithuania) isn’t entirely clear; the passage of almost two decades has in no way diminished its lustre, however. Performed exquisitely by Lithuanian pianist Indre Petrauskaite, the fifty-two-minute recital presents Liszt’s treatments of material by Robert Schumann, Richard Wagner, Charles Gounod, and Franz Schubert, with the results saying as much about Liszt as the composers transcribed. While Gounod and Schumann are represented by single pieces and Wagner two, the lion’s share go to Schubert, the subject of five.
Being a creative artist as opposed to mechanistic scrivener, Liszt (1811-86) couldn’t help but impose himself on these works, and the transcriptions offer an illuminating account of him as interpreter. His efforts allowed people to experience the original material in an admittedly altered form in the privacy of their homes, and were expertly crafted; after all, arrangements, be they strict transcriptions or freer re-compositions, constituted almost half of his output. Petrauskaite’s exposure to this music came early, at the age of seven, in fact, when she first heard a recording of Schubert’s “Der Müller und der Bach,” the inspiration for the project. Ample academic and performance ground had been covered by the pianist prior to the album’s 2007 recording, with an impressive number of awards and degrees acquired along the way. Aside from this recording, her discography includes releases of solo piano music by Ravel and Mozart. She’s currently based in London, where she both teaches and performs.
Complementing her performances, Petrauskaite’s liner notes provide excellent context, background, and insight. She clarifies, for instance, the difference between a Liszt paraphrase and transcription, describing the former as “a free composition that, while based mostly on another composer’s music, diverges quite significantly from the original,” the result a transformation as opposed to material hewing precisely to the original. To illustrate, his transcription of “Isoldes Liebestod” from Tristan und Isolde is largely faithful to Wagner’s original (referring to his piano score of Berlioz’sSymphonie fantastique, Liszt stated, “I applied myself as scrupulously as if I were translating a sacred text to transferring, not only the symphony’s musical framework, but also its detailed effects and the multiplicity of its instrumental and rhythmic combinations to the piano”).
Originally set to text by Friedrich Rückert, Schumann’s “Widmung” is the first song in the 1840 song-cycle Myrthen, which he dedicated to Clara Wieck as a wedding gift. Though it was arranged for piano by her, that didn’t stop Liszt from adding his own signature to the transcription, his contribution especially audible during the grandiose second half. No matter who’s most responsible for the treatment, this romantic evocation wholly enchants, as does Liszt’s arrangement of “Isoldes Liebestod.” After opening with a dramatic chord, the piece quietens as if readying itself for its slow, emphatic ascent. In the voluptuous design of the transcription, the opulence of the orchestral score isn’t entirely lost, making for a still-powerful treatment in a solo pianistic form. It also doesn’t hurt that Petrauskaite invests herself fully in the performance and allows the emotion of the music to come through unreservedly. Contrasting in tone, Liszt’s1860 transcription of Wagner’s “Spinnerlied” (from Der Fliegende Holländer) charms with, trills, ripples, flourishes, and other virtuosic dazzle.
The five Schubert treatments follow, starting with “Der Doppelgänger” from the cycle Schwanengesang, the last work written before his 1828 death. Almost unbearably sombre, the funereal piece finds the composer seemingly staring agitatedly into the abyss and anticipating his demise. Plunging even further into darkness, however, is “Der Müller und der Bach” (from the 1823 song-cycle Die Schöne Müllerin), during which the protagonist ends his life. As bleak as this setting generally is, it also features a central passage where sunlight pierces the gloom and irradiates the material with lyrical splendour. The composer’s tender side comes to the fore in “Frühlingsglaube,” which Schubert wrote in 1820 and dedicated to a woman whose daughter died that same year. Transcribed by Liszt eighteen years later, the material lends itself perfectly to a solo piano arrangement in being hushed, poetic, and intimate. Lighter in spirit and carefree by comparison is “Ständchen von Shakespeare (Horch, horch! Die Lerch!),” written in 1826; the last of the five, “Soirées de Vienne,” perpetuates that tone but in an exuberant waltz form. The piece reflects Liszt’s involvement to a greater degree than some of the others, given that he selected nine pieces from Schubert’s groups of piano waltzes to create the Soirées de Vienne cycle (Petrauskaite performs its sixth).The album concludes with its longest transcription, an eleven-minute rendering of “Valse” from Gounod’s opera Faust (1856-59), based, of course, on Goethe’s tragedy. Downplaying the diabolical and macabre approach some performers favour, Petrauskaite opts for a triumphant and grandiose reading of Liszt’s paraphrase. It’s more than a one-dimensional exercise, however, as shown by the gentle lyricism of a trills-enhanced episode featuring Faust and Marguarite. While Petrauskaite has seen and done much since recording this album in 2007, Liszt Piano Transcriptions has lost none of its ability to captivate, in large part because of its engrossing performances by the pianist. While none of the nine pieces were formally composed by Liszt, his fingerprints are all over them—as are hers.







