Part 4 (2/2)

Chopin, a sick man physically, never dared as did Liszt One was an aeolian-harp, the other a hurricane I never attempted to play these studies in their revised form; I content myself with the first sketches published as an opus 1 There the nucleus of each etude may be seen

Later Liszt expanded the _croquis_ into elaborate frescoes And yet they say that he had no thematic invention!

Take up his B-th, it is one of the great works of piano-literature fit to rank with Beethoven's most sublime sonatas It is epical Have you heard Friedheim or Burmeister play it? I had hoped that Liszt would vouchsafe e to return to him Besides, I wasn't invited Once in Paris a Liszt pupil, George Leitert, played for me the _Dante Sonata_, a coers of Arthur Friedheim It is the _Divine Comedy_ compressed within the limits of a piano-piece What folly, I hear some one say! Not at all In several of Chopin's Preludes--his supreht reflections of the sun, the ht pools If Chopin could reater tone-poet imprison behind the bars of his e, the universality of Liszt's genius, it is only necessary to play such a tiny piano-coe_ and then hear his _Faust Symphony_, his _Dante Symphony_, his Symphonic Poems There's a man for you! as Abraha to the _Faust Symphony_ it dawns on you that you have heard all this estible fragments; in a word, dressed up for operatic consureedy fingers into Liszt's scores as well as into his purse He borrowed froenius, and forgot to credit the original In music there are no quotation ue fros_ would not be heard today if Liszt had not written its theether Lisztian, and a German writer on musical esthetics has pointed out recently, thener _Verhaltniss_ Wagner owed everything to Liszt--from money to his wife, success, and art A wonderful white soul was Franz Liszt

And he is only codom as a composer Poor, petty, narrow-minded humanity could not realize that because acoht that the velvet touch of Thalberg was more admirable than the mailed warrior fist of Liszt It is a mistake

And now, plueCan an old-fashi+oned fellow say enuine joy I sit onceWissahickon Creek, its banks draped with snohile overhead the sky seems so friendly and blue I am at Dussek Villa, I a been such a fool as ever to wander fro a fussy but conscientious old bachelor, I scoldup for the clattering tongue of an active wife As I once related to you, I recently went to New York, and there encountered sundry adventures, not all of the nature

One you know, and it reeks in ars, witless talk, and all the other monotonous symbols of Bohemia Ah, that blessed Boheentle Will Shakespeare! It is no- signals have shi+pwrecked many an artistic mariner, and--but pshaw! I' people ative When they live, when they fathoood and evil and their ues, so I shall say no more of Bohemia What I saw of it further convinced me of its undesirability, of its inutility

And now to my tale, now to finish forever the story of ainst Tchaikovsky to my acquaintances of the hour, because my dislike to him is deep rooted; but I had still to encounter another modern musician, who sent , a stomach soured, and my whole esthetic system topsy-turveyed and sorely wrenched I heard for the first tiner's _Die Walkure_, and I've been sick ever since

I felt, with Louis Ehlert, that another such a performance would releaseto the angels, for surely all my sins would be wiped out, expiated, by the severe penance endured

Not feeling quite myself the day after my experiences with thethe opera-house, inspected the _rand cast,” and I fell to wondering what the word _Walkure_ meant I have an old-fashi+oned acquaintance with Gerner's Oh, yes; I forget the overture to _Rienzi_, which always struck me as noisy and quite in Meyerbeer's ner, I read soof I do noish I didn't

Says I to myself, ”Here's a chance to hear this Walkover opera So now or never” I went in, and, planking my dollar down, I said, ”Give me the best seat you have” ”Other box-office, on 40th Street, please, for gallery” I was taken aback ”What!” I exclaiallery seat? Howman looked at me curiously, but politely replied, ”Five dollars, and they are all sold out” I went outside and took off ood dollars--a whole week's living and ood music Why I never paid ic Flute_, and with Carlotta, Patti, Karl Formes, and--but what's the use of reminiscences?

I could not make up my mind to spend so much money and I walked to Central Park, took several turns, and then caain My mind was made up I went boldly to the box-office and encountered the sa man ”Look here, my friend,” I said, ”I didn't ask you for a private box, but just a plain seat, one seat” ”Sold out,” he laconically replied and retired Then I heard suspicious laughter

Rather dazed, I walked slowly to the sidewalk and was grabbed--there is no other word--by several rough rimy fists ”Tickets, tickets, fine seats for _De Volkyure_ tonight” They yelled at me and I felt as if I were in the clutches of the ”barkers” of a don clothing-house I sawAt first I was asked fifteen dollars a seat, but seeing that I am apoplectic by temperament they came down to ten I asked why this enormous tariff and was told that Van Dyck, Barnes, Nordica, Van Rooy, and heaven knoho besides, were in the cast That settled it I bargained and wrangled and finally escaped with a seat in the orchestra for seven dollars! Later I discovered it was not only in the orchestra, but quite near the orchestra, and on the brass and big drum side

When I reached the opera-house after s and tea it must have been seven o'clock I was told to be early and I was

No one else was except the ticket speculators, who, recognizing ht until I finally called a policeman He smiled and told me to walk around the block until half-past seven, when the doors opened But I was too s open at 715, and my seat occupied by an overcoat I threw it into the orchestra and later there was a fine rohen the owner returned I tried to explain, but the o to his last hohed At 745 there were a few dressed up folks down stairs, and they mostly stared at me, for I kept my fur cap on to heat ood, solid pepper-and-salt one I didn't mind it in the least, but orried h before the curtain rose In vain The story would not coh I saas in trouble when I read that the hero and heroine were brother and sister

Experience has taught ner chose such a dull, old-fashi+oned thean to fill up and there wasand noise

Then a little felloith beard and eyeglasses hopped into the conductor's chair, the lights were turned off, and with a roar like a storan I tried to feel thrilled, but couldn't I had expected a new art, a new orchestration, but here I was on faround, so faner had orchestrated the beginning of Schubert's _Erlking_ The noise began in earnest and by the light from a player's lamp I saw that the prelude was intended for a stor_ after all” The curtain rose on an e on the hearth

There was no pause in the music at the end of the overture--did it really end?--which I thought funny Then a ered in and fell before the fire He see too A wo for twenty bars got hiht on as if it were a sy from the pair ful, at least so it see family troubles and didn't know their own na, and a felloith haings in his helmet, a spear and a beard entered, and so , besides, what e crew, sat down and talked to music, just plain talk, for I didn't hear a solitary tune The girl went to bed and the irl came back They must have found out their na an old sword out of the tree, they said a lot and went away I was glad they had patched up the fa, black-bearded felloith the haings in his helmet?

The next act upset me terribly I read my book, but couldn't h much-a-muck, he didn't smash all his enemies, especially that cranky old woot quite excited when Nordica sang a yelling sort of a screah up on the rocks Not at the music, however, but I expected her to fall over and break her neck She didn't, and shouting Wagner's iraffe! Quite at sea, I saw the brother and sister co a slu, for the sister slept and the brother looked cross Then loom and a duel up in the clouds, and once more the curtain fell I heard the celebrated _Ride of the Valkyries_ and wondered if it wasfor oats Dean Swift's Gulliver would have said the latter I thought so The howling of the circus girls up on the rocks paralyzed my faculties

It was a hideous saturnalia, and deafened by the brass and percussion instruhbors protested and I was forced to sit and suffer What folloas incomprehensible The crazy areeable _Wotan_ kept things in a perfect uproar for half an hour Then the stage cleared and the father, after lecturing his daughter, put her to sleep under a tree He e, steam hissed, the orchestra rattled, and the bass roared Finally, to tinkling bells and fourth of July fireworks, the curtain fell on the silliest pantomime I ever saw

The et settled It never stopped, and fast as it reeled off I recognized Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Schumann, Weber--lots of Weber--Marschner, and Chopin Yes, Chopin! The orchestration seeht and coarse and the form--well, formlessness is the only word to describe it There was an infernal sort of skill in the instru with other men's ideas, but no develop in suspension until ed for one perfect resolution Even in the _Spring Song_ it does not occur That tune is suspiciously Italian, for all Wagner's dislike of Italy