As for Litolff, I confess that he made a great
impression on me. His Fourth Symphonic Concerto (in manuscript)
is a very remarkable composition, and he played it in such a
masterly manner, with so much verve, such boldness and certainty,
that it gave me very great pleasure. If there is something of the
quadruped in Dreyschock's marvelous execution (and this
comparison should by no means vex him: is not a lion as much a
quadruped as a poodle?), there is certainly something winged in
Litolff's execution, which has, moreover, all the superiority
over Dreyschock's which a biped with ideas, imagination, and
sensibility has over another biped who fancies that he possesses
a surfeit of them all - often very embarrassing!
Do you still continue your intimate relations with old Cognac in
the New World, my dear Mason? - Allow me again to recommend you
measure, which is an essential quality for musicians. In truth, I
am not very much qualified to preach to you the quantity of this
quantity; for, if I remember rightly, I employed a good deal of
Tempo rubato in the times when I was giving my concerts (a
business that I would not begin again for anything in the world),
and again, quite lately, I have written a long Symphony in three
parts entitled "Faust" (without text or vocal parts), in which
the horrible measures of 7/8, 7/4, 5/4, alternate with C and
3/4. -
In virtue of which I conclude that you ought to limit yourself to
7/8ths of a small bottle of old Cognac in the evening, and never
to go beyond five quarters! -
Raff, in his first volume of the "Wagner-Frage," has realized
something like five quarters of doctrinal sufficiency; but that
is an example that can hardly be recommended for imitation in a
critical matter, and especially in Cognac and other spirituous
matters.
Pardon me, my dear Mason, for these bad jokes, which however my
good intentions justify, and try to bear yourself valiantly both
morally and physically, which is the heartfelt wish of
Your very affectionate
F. Liszt
Weymar, December 14th, 1854
You did not know Rubinstein at Weymar. [Liszt was mistaken about
this. Mason had even done the principal honors to Rubinstein at
his first visit to Weimar, in the absence of the Master.] He
stayed here some time, and notoriously cuts himself off from the
thick mass of so-called pianist composers who don't know what
playing means, and still less with what fuel to fire themselves
for composing - so much so that with what is wanting to them in
talent as composers they think they can make themselves pianists,
and vice versa.
