(Raymond Lewenthal | 1969 | Live) Thalberg: Fantasy on Rossini's opera 'Moses in Egypt', Op.33

I will never lose my fascination with the romantic transition in the arts. It was such an active, joyous, and naively experimental time in music, where you can sense on every page - masterpiece or trifle - that something new was in the air. The industrial revolution was under way, and people looked to nature, to emotion, and to legend as escapism from the increasingly mechanized, coal stained, and intellectualized society around them. As jobs shifted with it came urbanization, and with those rapid advancements. In the piano world, too, where instruments grew stronger, better and cheaper; concerts blossomed, and with musicians gathering in the cultural centers London, Vienna and soon Paris ideas were quickly exchanged and built upon. You can tell by opening up any one of the Fantaisies, Rondos and Variations Brillantes from the time that creativity was buzzing as never before, and pianists were competing to find new ways to take advantage of their evolving instrument, the larger halls, and the new ideals which were taking shape in music - beginning not with Beethoven, but already with Clementi and Dussek. The present work is from one of the later combatants of the era, Sigismund Thalberg (1812-1871). His "Fantaisie pour le piano sur des thèmes de l'Opéra 'Moise' de G. Rossini" dates from when he was in his early 20s, yet is already complete with his patented arpeggios and three-handed effect (10:36). This is the fantasy Berlioz is believed to have heard Thalberg play at his (public) Paris debut in 1836, after which he was clearly rocked. Reviewing the concert in the Revue et Gazette Musicale a few days later, he wrote: "Here is a virtuoso in every sense of the word; sure of his memory, of his music, of his talent, sure of himself in short; yet modest, and indeed truly modest since he only asks his instrument for the means to move his listeners. Monsieur Thalberg, from the first bars, showed himself to be one of the three or four greatest pianists in Europe; after some developments, he took hold of the whole assembly and walked it panting, from wonders to marvels, until the last chord where the immense enthusiasm, so painfully contained, finally burst. The room was shaking. I've never seen Liszt produce such an effect." The last sentence was a call for battle. Liszt as the preeminent pianist of the day was in Geneva at the time, but returned to Paris in May only to find that Thalberg had just left for England. He finally heard him in the salons of Pierre-Joseph-Guillaume Zimmermann in February the following year, and reacted not unlike Mozart at his first meeting with Clementi - with excessive scorn. A heated debate was already under way in the press and a "duel" between the two musicians came to be in the salon of Princess Cristina Belgiojoso on March 31, at which Thalberg again pulled the Moses from his sleeve. Liszt replied with a largely experimental work, the super cool and super weird Niobe paraphrase, and Belgiojoso's verdict has become winged words. Thalberg, the first pianist in the world. Liszt, a unicum. To ears of the time the Moses must have been genuinely impressive work. Despite its early date it has a clearly formed romanticism, unusually deep and dramatic content for the genre (up to that point), large hall writing, and cutting edge pianism - a breathtaking listen even today. Liszt probably found more in Thalberg than he admitted too, and after their meeting at Belgiojoso's in 1837 their earlier rivalry turned to cordiality. When Thalberg visited Dresden in 1838, a city which had not yet heard Liszt, he is said to have dismissed the King's compliments with "Wait until you have heard Liszt!". Liszt in turn proceeded to add a few of Thalberg's compositions to his repertoire and attended his concerts whenever their paths crossed, "loudly applauding" according to one report from Vienna in 1848. In fact everything points to (Fétis, etc) that Liszt's encounter with Thalberg made him a better pianist. This recording of the Moses fantasy comes from Raymond Lewenthal's private tape recorder during the Romantic Revival in the 1960s when interest in pieces, composers and performance practice from the time increased again (after 80 or so years in the permafrost), making what I believe to be the work's earliest recorded live performance. Maybe with some of the nobility, uprightness, and legendary tonal command of its creator encapsulated in it. Sigismund Thalberg (1812-1871) 00:00 - Fantasy on Rossini's opera 'Moses in Egypt', Op.33 Raymond Lewenthal, piano Source: Audience Recording -------------- https://classical-pianists.net/ Thalberg's pages: https://classical-pianists.net/genera... Lewenthal's pages: https://classical-pianists.net/genera...