Franz Liszt: Complete Piano Music / Vol. 70 - Marches

To speak of Franz Liszt is to enter a world in which categories collapse. Virtuoso, visionary, reformer, celebrity, mystic - none of these labels is sufficient, and yet each illuminates a facet of a musician whose creative presence reshaped 19th-century musical life. He inhabited his age with a rare duality: outwardly the most electrifying pianist Europe had ever known, inwardly a thinker preoccupied with the ethical, spiritual and imaginative potential of art. That tension - between public spectacle and private enquiry - lies at the heart of an oeuvre whose range and unpredictability remain without parallel.Liszt's early fame rested on a pianistic style that expanded the technical and expressive boundaries of the instrument. His performances were not merely demonstrations of dexterity but events that altered the nature of concert listening itself, whether in orchestral appearances or in the solo recital format he effectively established. However, virtuosity was never an end in itself. From the 1830s onward, Liszt's compositions increasingly acknowledged poetic, literary and philosophical impulses, often signaled through titles, epigraphs or extra-musical associations. This stimulus would later crystallise in his codification of the symphonic poem, but it was equally present in his keyboard music, where narrative, argument and symbolism frequently replace abstract formal logic.A central expression of this aesthetic is Liszt's lifelong engagement with the march - a genre that might seem, on the surface, to withstand the kind of reflective complexity he prized. The march offered something irresistible: a form already laden with public meaning, ripe for reinterpretation. In his hands, it's regulated tread becomes a medium for ambiguity, it's grand gestures inflected with harmonic adventurousness, it's civic pronouncements quietly complicated by covert sensibility. The same impulse that drove him to revisit and rework earlier compositions in the light of new understanding shaped his relationship to the genre as a whole: returning to it across decades, he treated it not as a fixed form but as an evolving channel for dramatic, national and personal expression.