223 To Ingeborg Stark
[A pupil of Liszt’s, who afterwards married Liszt’s pupil Hans von Bronsart, now General Manager of the Weimar Court theater: she was also known as a composer.]
It is very charming and graceful of you, dear Mademoiselle Inga, to remember the 22nd October so kindly, and I should have thanked you sooner for your letter, which gave me sincere pleasure, had I not been kept to my bed for nearly a week in consequence of much emotion and fatigue.
Through our friend Bronsart I have had some preliminary good tidings of you; you have fulfilled your role of charmer in the best possible manner, and Bronsart is full of raptures about you. But all this is ancient history for you, something like a chapter of Rollin on the history of the Medes,—after whom come the Persians, the Greeks, and the Romans…
For the present it is the turn of Russia, which you are in the way of conquering, and I see from here the enchantment of your admirers of St. Petersburg, who are all ears and all eyes around the piano where you are enthroned.
Will you remember me affectionately to Prince Odoyewski, and give a friendly shake hand [Written in English by Liszt] from me to Mr. Martynoff. As for our dear Tartar, [The composer Alexander Seroff] tell him how much I am attached to him; he will be all the more agreeably persuaded of this if you tell him. Ask him also to write to me after your first concert, for I would not risk offending your modesty so far as to beg you to send me an exact account of your undoubted successes. But I don’t intend on that account to let you stand still as regards letter-writing, and you will give me great pleasure if, for example, you will continue your history of the musical prowess of Rubinstein (that you have begun so well).
You know that I am truly interested in what he is doing, considering that he has all that is wanting to compose good and beautiful things, provided that he does not persist in writing straight off too hurriedly, and guards a little against excess in the very exercise of these grand qualities.
The “Ocean” of which Rubinstein has sung might serve as his model in this; he knows how to restrain his waves in their liberty and power—and I hope Rubinstein would not be offended by the comparison!—Let me know then about his artistic actions and attitudes, of which, I presume, he will have every occasion to be satisfied and proud. Our little Weymar has remained, as usual, pretty tame since you left; but in a week’s time we shall be celebrating here the centenary of Schiller’s birth with all the enthusiasm of which we are susceptible (which is not saying much).
On the 9th November the music that I have composed for Halm’s Festival-play, “A Hundred Years Ago,” will be given at the theater, and Jena has put on its festival programme my chorus “An die Kuenstler,” which will terminate the ceremony of the 11th (Friday next).
In addition you will find in the Schiller number of the Leipzig Illustrirte Zeitung, which will appear on the 12th November, a Festival song “im Volkston” [In the style of a folk-song] of my composition. Do not be shocked at the extreme simplicity of this song; it was not the occasion to make a display of musical knowledge—but simply to write forty bars or so which could be quite easily sung and remembered by tutti quanti. In order to do this I had to dress my Muse in a blouse, or, if you prefer a more German comparison, “ich habe der Dame eine bayrische Joppe angezogen!” [“I have dressed the lady in a Bavarian jacket.”]
How are you getting on with your truly Samsonic Variations—and with your Fugue “Martha”? Don’t make too great a martyr of yourself over it, and reserve for yourself also the better part…that of Mary. [She had written a fugue on the musical letters of the names Martha and Maria [Mary]—the names of her friends, the sisters Von Sabinin.]
As I have mentioned this name I will tell you that Princess Marie Hohenlohe will spend her winter in Vienna.
I, for my part, shall not stir from the Altenburg, where I am reckoning on finishing my Elizabeth, and on living more and more as a recluse—indeed, even a little like a bear—but not in the style of those estimable citizens of the woods, whom the impresarii of small pleasures degrade by making them dance in the market-places to the sound of their flutes and drums! I shall rather choose a model ideal of a bear—be sure of that—and the flutes and drums which might lead me into the slightest future temptation of cutting capers have still to be invented.
Will you be so good, dear Mademoiselle Inga, as to present my very affectionate respects to Madame, your mother, as well as my best remembrances and compliments to la Sagesse Olivia—[Liszt’s name for the sister of Ingeborg Stark] and believe me invariably
Your very devoted
F. Liszt
Weymar, November 2nd, 1859
224. To Johann von Herbeck.
Dear Friend,
I only returned a few hours ago from Zwickau, and find your friendly letter here, in reply to which I must excuse myself for not having been able to fulfill your wish so soon as I had intended, in respect to the Schubert Marches. This delay, which was very unpleasant to me, was occasioned by an indisposition which obliged me to keep my bed for a whole week at the end of October. The Weymar and Jena Schiller Festivals, following on the top of that, made it utterly impossible for me to get on with the instrumentation of the Marches. But I promise you that you shall have the score by Christmas at latest.
“Prometheus” will present himself to you by the end of this month. If after looking through the score, dear friend, you think the work suitable for a performance in Vienna, I shall be glad. If not, I beg you to tell me so with perfect candor, and without the slightest scruple of thereby wounding my vanity. Whether the stomach of the critics and of the public will be able to digest such a liver cut out of the vulture as this of my “Prometheus,” or whether at the very first bars all will not be lost, I cannot determine; but still less would I prepare superfluous disagreeables for you by the performance of my “Tonschmiererei;” [Tone-daubing] of such ill-odor from the beginning!
Decide therefore entirely according to your own judicious opinion—and, whatever that may be, rest assured of the sincere acknowledgment and esteem with which I remain
Yours in all friendship,
F. Liszt
November 18th, 1859