In a 1910 essay, Ferruccio Busoni declared that he had transcribed Liszt’s Rhapsodie espagnole for piano and orchestra because the original version for solo piano required of the pianist ‘an enormous effort without giving him the possibility—even when succeeding as well as possible—of bringing the salient points into light in sufficiently brilliant fashion’, and because ‘the piece’s nationalistic character’ called for ‘bright colours that only the orchestra can provide’. Busoni’s example was provided by Liszt himself, transcriber of Schubert’s Wanderer-Fantasie of which the version for solo piano was considered inadequate in the 19th century in relation to the composition’s musical content. Nowadays, no one would permit himself to maintain that the Wanderer-Fantasie or Rhapsodie espagnole present traits of imperfection and that only a transcription can reveal the full potential. However, Busoni’s version is worthwhile as exemplary testimony of a moment in the history of culture and the concert which had tremendous importance.
The Rhapsodie espagnole, written in the early 1860s and published in 1867, was transcribed by Busoni in 1893 and performed for the first time by him in Hamburg on 22 October 1894, under the direction of Gustav Mahler. This transcription entered the repertoire and stayed there almost until the mid-20th century; since then, performances have become quite rare. The transcription is, in truth, quite sober and, in substance, ‘faithful’ to the original. The only new elements consist of a development of the ornamental figures, and the addition of a few bars and of two short cadenzas; a superposition of themes remains episodic. In conclusion, Busoni remains faithful to the project of making this composition more spectacular for concert performance and intervenes on the structure in a more limited way than did Liszt in going from the Hungarian Fantasy No.14 for solo piano to his Hungarian Fantasy for piano and orchestra. Here, the orchestra is quite luxuriant and includes a piccolo, three flutes, two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, four horns, two trumpets, three trombones, tuba, triangle, castanets, tambourine, cymbals and strings.
The Indianische Fantasie, Op.44 was written between 1913 and 1914 and premiered in Berlin on 12 March 1914 under the direction of Alexis Birnbaum. The orchestra is composed of two flutes, two oboes, English horn, two clarinets, two bassoons, three horns, two trumpets, timpani, various percussion and strings. Busoni’s interest in the music of the American Indians (or ‘Redskins’ as one might say were it not politically incorrect) goes back to 1910, when one of his former students, Natalie Curtis, gave him a copy of songs that she had just published. Busoni’s initial idea was to write a real concerto, and one of the sketches indeed bears this title (in Italian): ‘Concerto Secondo (Fantasia, Canzone e Finale su dei motivi delle Pelli-Rosse), per pianoforte e orchestra’.. On another sketch we find the German title ‘Indianische Suite für Clavier mit Orchester’, and for the first movement the marking I..Fantasie. We also encounter a title in English, Indian Rhapsody, before the definitive one in German.
The Indianische Fantasie is organised in linked three parts, in accordance with the fast-slow-fast concerto outline. It is, in a way, reminiscent of Liszt’s Concerto pathétique for two pianos, which Busoni had played in 1905 with his student Egon Petri. The treatment of the folk themes doubtless represented a very thorny problem in 1913: one could not come back to the insertion of this type of theme in structures typical of western culture, as in Dvorák’s ‘New World’ Symphony and even less in cycles of variations or the potpourris that were in vogue during the Biedermeier period. Moreover, Busoni’s knowledge of Indian civilisation and songs, based uniquely on Curtis’s ‘filter’, would not have enabled him to create original themes that were deduced from folklore, as did Bartók and Janácek. The solution at which the composer arrived was analogous to Liszt’s in the Hungarian Rhapsodies: building a vast composition according to a mould that was not bound to architectures of a Classical or Romantic type (sonata allegro, lied form, rondo…), leaving the themes intact or modifying them very little by harmonising them without assigning them conventional chords. As we can see, the challenge was rather arduous.
The composition of the Konzertstück, Op.31a is linked, so to speak, to a career necessity for Busoni. In 1890, Anton Rubinstein had organised a piano composition and performance competition, which was to be held every five years, changing location each time: the first edition in Saint Petersburg, the second in Berlin, the third in Vienna, the fourth in Paris… This was something quite new since, up until that time, competitions had always taken place in the conservatories and been reserved to students. Rubinstein, on the contrary, launched an international competition, profiting from his name and prestige, which ensured considerable resonance. Busoni, a little-known 24-year-old professor at the Helsinki Conservatory, decided not to let this opportunity go by and signed up for the two sections of the competition. The sole difficulty came from the fact that the rules provided for the presentation of pieces for solo piano, for piano and a few instruments or piano with orchestra. Whilst still an adolescent, Busoni had written a small concerto for piano and strings, not presentable, and, in 1882, an Introduction and Scherzo for piano and large orchestra, hardly representative. He had also composed a Konzert-Fantasie, which, alas, had already been given at the Leipzig Gewandhaus in January 1890, and the Rubinstein competition required a work that had never been played. Without getting discouraged, Busoni set to work and, on 27 August in Saint Petersburg, performed his Konzertstück under the direction of Moritz Köhler, triumphantly carrying off the First Prize. The work, as is only fair, is dedicated to Rubinstein.
A 24-year-old composer, a competition, a jury presided by a guru of the piano… Busoni, who had quite often heard Rubinstein and in 1889, added to his repertoire the Concerto, Op.70, quite well known at the time. He thus concocted a piece that had every chance of pleasing the jury, yet it is not, for all that, a superficial work or a slavish imitation of Rubinstein but rather a demonstration of inventiveness using tested models. In the essay quoted above, Busoni affirms having transcribed the Rhapsodie espagnole when ‘I realised such lacunae and errors in my way of playing that, with an energetic decision, I started my piano study over from the beginning, on completely new bases’. And he adds: ‘Liszt’s works became my guide and opened up to me a very intimate knowledge of his writing that is thoroughly special; I based my “technique” on his way of “periodising”, gratitude and admiration then made Liszt a master and a friend to me.’ The Konzertstück was composed before this radical turning point, and the writing therefore differs considerably from that of the Indianische Fantasie: it is more massive and denser, often defined as ‘Brahmsian’, whereas we encounter this in many late-19th century composers, beginning with Anton Rubinstein himself (who, let us add in passing, loathed Brahms’s music). As for the overall layout, the construction of the Konzertstück recalls a concert overture: a broad introduction marked Moderato, with exposition of the four main themes, a fast movement, Allegro molto, with development and varied recapitulation, then a coda più allegro. The language retains a share of the Wagnerian lesson but adheres above all to a sort of koine, a lingua franca widespread throughout all Mitteleuropa at that time, founded on Beethoven, Mendelssohn and Schumann. The orchestration is not as over-elaborate as that of the other pieces of the period, because sparing in doublings; the orchestra is made up of flutes, oboes, clarinets and bassoons in pairs, four horns, two trumpets, three trombones, timpani and strings.
In 1921, Busoni wrote two pieces entitled Romanza e Scherzoso, to be played alone or after the Konzertstück, in the latter case, under the overall title of Concertino.. The first performance was given in Basle, on 10 December 1921, with Egon Petri and that city’s symphony orchestra conducted by Heinrich Suter, whereas the premiere of the Concertino was given by Busoni in Paris, on 4 March of the following year, under the direction de Gabriel Pierné.
In 1921, the composer was in full admiration of Mozart, his last great love: since 1921 he had taken up and again studied the three concertos (K 466, 488 and 491) that he already had in his repertoire and practised five others (K 271, 453, 467, 482 and 503). This predilection for Mozart produced the Concertino, Op.48 for clarinet and small orchestra in 1919, the Divertimento, Op.52 for flute and orchestra in 1922, then Romanza e Scherzoso. In truth, the orchestra is not small (piccolo, flutes, oboes, clarinets and bassoons in pairs, four horns, two trumpets, three trombones, glockenspiel and strings) but is used to produce different effects of colour and not of mass. The presence of the piccolo and glockenspiel already recall the atmosphere of The Magic Flute, whereas the formal simplicity, linear themes and abundance of non-thematic ornamental figures in the solo part confirm this idea of a veritable ‘homage to Mozart’.. The two pieces, linked together (with a quotation of the Romance in the Scherzoso) are, in themselves, an enchantment. The critical problem concerns rather the Concertino.. Why did Busoni envisage the performance of a piece from 1890 followed by two others from 1921, with a hiatus that is, at the very least, stylistically disconcerting? A specialist of Busoni’s work, Larry Sitsky, supposed that motifs linked to the Konzertstück were found in the Romanza e Scherzoso… but his research was futile. As any explicit declaration from the composer is lacking, we can only think that he wanted to contrast two universes within a sort of ‘yesterday and today’, accentuating two periods and thereby marking his own belonging to History.
Piero Rattalino © 2024
Unpublished text by Piero Rattalino, a profound historian of the piano and its repertoire, who recently passed away, written for me and given to me on 7 December 2004 on the occasion of the recording of “Works for piano and orchestra”. A record that today, finally, can see the light thanks to this publication, as a tribute to Ferruccio Busoni on the centenary of his death. I extend thoughts of gratitude to those who contributed to the creation of this CD.
Giovanni Bellucci