About 1/2 past 10 Liszt called, and after chatting pleasantly for some time invited us to go and breakfast at his house, the Altenburg. (…) On arriving at the Altenburg we were shewn into a garden, where in a saloon formed by overarching trees the déjeuner was set out.
– from George Eliot’s Journal
Audio comment by Bob Muscutt, read by Bob and Andrew Charlwood.
Audio Comment by Bob Muscutt
Then came the thing I had longed for – Liszt’s playing. I sat near him so that I could see both his hands and face. For the first time in my life I beheld real inspiration – for the first time I heard the true tones of the piano. He played one of his own compositions – one of a series of religious fantaisies. There was nothing strange or excessive about is manner. His manipulation of the instrument was quiet and easy, and his face was simply grand – the lips compressed and the head thrown a little backward. When the music expressed quiet rapture or devotion a sweet smile flitted over his features; when it was triumphant the nostrils dilated.
– from George Eliot’s Journal
Extended reading from George Eliot’s Journal by and with Phil New and Susanne Monnerjahn.
Liszt, Etude Transcendentales No.9, Ricordanza
on archive.org
I knew George Eliot and her husband very well... and they were a remarkably ugly couple. Mr. Lewis, the author of ‘The Life of Goethe’, called on me first, telling me, in the course of the conversation, that he was at Weimar with Miss Evans, the translator of ‘The Life of Jesus’, by Strauß; but that he did not know whether he could present himself with her, as they were living together in a manner inadmissible in society.
– from Franz Liszt, Recollections of a Compatriot
Extended reading from Franz Liszt, Recollections of a Compatriot, by and with Phil New.
– from George Eliot’s Journal
Audio comment by Bob Muscutt, read by Bob and Andrew Charlwood.
Audio Comment by Bob Muscutt
Then came the thing I had longed for – Liszt’s playing. I sat near him so that I could see both his hands and face. For the first time in my life I beheld real inspiration – for the first time I heard the true tones of the piano. He played one of his own compositions – one of a series of religious fantaisies. There was nothing strange or excessive about is manner. His manipulation of the instrument was quiet and easy, and his face was simply grand – the lips compressed and the head thrown a little backward. When the music expressed quiet rapture or devotion a sweet smile flitted over his features; when it was triumphant the nostrils dilated.
– from George Eliot’s Journal
Extended reading from George Eliot’s Journal by and with Phil New and Susanne Monnerjahn.
Liszt, Etude Transcendentales No.9, Ricordanza
on archive.org
I knew George Eliot and her husband very well... and they were a remarkably ugly couple. Mr. Lewis, the author of ‘The Life of Goethe’, called on me first, telling me, in the course of the conversation, that he was at Weimar with Miss Evans, the translator of ‘The Life of Jesus’, by Strauß; but that he did not know whether he could present himself with her, as they were living together in a manner inadmissible in society.
– from Franz Liszt, Recollections of a Compatriot
Extended reading from Franz Liszt, Recollections of a Compatriot, by and with Phil New.
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