In total Liszt composed fourteen paraphrases on Wagner’s 
                  music between 1849 and 1871. Half of them can be heard on this 
                  disc, complemented by three small pieces by Wagner himself. 
                  Some years ago Asher Fisch conducted the complete Ring 
                  cycle at performances in Adelaide, performances that were recorded 
                  and issued by Melba and were enthusiastically received by reviewers, 
                  including myself. Besides some superb singing from Stuart Skelton, 
                  Lisa Gasteen, Deborah Riedel, John Bröcheler and others 
                  it was the conducting of Mr Fisch that made a lot of us take 
                  down the Thesaurus to find suitable superlatives when ‘idiomatic’, 
                  ‘superb’ and ‘excellent’ felt bland 
                  and uninspiring. Now comes this disc as a kind of sequel, in 
                  time for the forthcoming bicentenary celebrations next year. 
                  Again Fisch proves that he is very much inside the idiom as 
                  a pianist as well. Question is whether this is a Wagner disc 
                  or a Liszt disc. Wagner provides the raw-material but Liszt 
                  is not content to transcribe the music to a piano reduction, 
                  along the lines of his transcriptions of the Beethoven symphonies. 
                  Instead he often amends the material and changes harmonies, 
                  and that is what a paraphrase is. The New Penguin English 
                  Dictionary (2000) defines paraphrase as ‘a restatement 
                  of a text, passage, or work giving the meaning in another form’ 
                  which implies that the ‘paraphraser’ has great freedom 
                  to treat the material according to his/her personality. It was 
                  quite common during the 19th century that pianists 
                  borrowed material from popular operas and made their own ‘elaborations’, 
                  often to show off their technical prowess; Liszt was no exception. 
                  The composers, very often, didn’t mind since these show-pieces 
                  made the music better known and people went to the opera house 
                  to hear the original. This was long before the recording of 
                  music was possible. Liszt, more than most of his competitors, 
                  was a great composer in his own right and many of his paraphrases 
                  are valuable as compositions. He paraphrased Verdi, Bellini, 
                  Donizetti, Gounod, Meyerbeer and Mozart but when he approached 
                  Wagner’s music it was with a different aim: ‘modest 
                  propaganda on the inadequate piano for the sublime genius of 
                  Wagner’. Wagner was enthusiastic. 
                    
                  It is impossible to convey a sense of the colours of Wagner’s 
                  marvellous orchestral scores on a piano but Liszt manages surprisingly 
                  well. Today every Wagner-lover knows the orchestral sounds of 
                  Wagner and can easily conjure up from memory what it sounds 
                  like. For the 19th century listener with no knowledge 
                  of Wagner, sometimes with little experience of orchestral music 
                  at all, this must have been a tougher nut to crack. Even though 
                  Liszt couldn’t convey the colours he could create the 
                  atmosphere, and this he does constantly throughout this programme. 
                  The mighty crescendo of the Pilgrim Chorus from Tannhäuser 
                  is one such instance, the frail and transparent Song to the 
                  Evening Star from the same opera is another. Truly stunning 
                  is the third excerpt from this opera, The Entrance of the 
                  Guests, where the trumpet fanfares blow the brains out. 
                  I noticed that I automatically crouched in my chair. There are 
                  traces of bombast in the Meistersinger excerpt, but I 
                  have heard more blatant examples of this in other works by Liszt. 
                  By and large it is the many delicacies of ‘instrumentation’ 
                  that stand out and linger in one’s memory. 
                    
                  Wagner was allegedly not a very accomplished pianist but he 
                  did in fact compose some music for the instrument, mostly quite 
                  early in his career. The three short pieces that are fillers 
                  here are however from his mature life. The first of them, the 
                  Albumblatt für Frau Betty Schott was written as 
                  late as 1875 when he was past sixty. Betty was the wife of Wagner’s 
                  publisher Franz Schott. Ankunft bei den schwarzen Schwänen 
                  (Arrival among the black Swans) from 1861 also need an explanation. 
                  That year Wagner stayed as guest in the house of a Count Albrecht 
                  Pourtalès in Paris. In the garden was a pool with two 
                  black swans. Wagner became very fond of the birds and wrote 
                  this little piece to the Countess. There are echoes of Tristan 
                  und Isolde, which he had just finished at the time. From 
                  the same year comes the last work. Fürstin M was Princess 
                  Pauline von Metternich, married to the Habsburg ambassador to 
                  Paris. The Princess had helped Wagner to organize the first 
                  production of Tannhäuser in Paris. These pieces 
                  are delightful little encores to this delightful programme. 
                  Asher Fisch was previously unknown to me as a pianist but his 
                  playing is as delightful as the music and Melba’s recording 
                  is in the demonstration class. 
                    
                  Göran Forsling