123.—LISZT ON MENDELSSOHN.
The following bit of conversation, reported to come from Franz Liszt, we are inclined to take cum grano salis as to the intensity of some of the expressions used. If other writers are to be believed, the gentle Felix was hardly of so jealous a disposition as this sketch would have us believe. But, be that as it may, we infer from it somewhat of the personal characteristics of Liszt as well as of Mendelssohn.
Said Liszt: "Mendelssohn, on one occasion, drew a picture on a blackboard of the devil playing his G minor concerto with five hammers on each hand instead of fingers. The truth of the matter is, that I once played his concerto in G minor from the manuscript, and as I found several of the passages rather simple and not broad enough, if I may use the term, I changed them to suit my own ideas. This, of course, annoyed Mendelssohn, who, unlike Schumann or Chopin, would never take a hint or advice from any one. Moreover, Mendelssohn, who, although a refined pianist, was not a virtuoso, and never could play my compositions with any kind of effect, his technical skill being inadequate to the execution of intricate passages. So the only course open to him, he thought, was to vilify me as a musician. And, of course, whatever Mendelssohn did, Leipzig did also. However, I was, once, more than fully revenged on him.
"I well remember meeting him at dinner at the Comtesse de P's, in Paris. He had been unusually witty and vivacious at dinner, and after dessert the Comtesse asked him if he would not favor us with one of his last Lieder, or, in fact, anything he chose to select. He most graciously condescended to sit down at the piano, and, to my astonishment, instead of treating us to one of his own compositions, he commenced my Rhapsodie, No. 4, which he played so abominably badly, as regards both the execution and the sentiment, that most of the guests, who had heard it played by myself on previous occasions, burst out laughing. Mendelssohn, however, got quite angry at their mirth, and improvising a finale after the thirtieth bar or so, dashed into his Capriccio in F sharp minor, No. 5, which he played through with elegance and a certain amount of respect. At the conclusion we all applauded him, and then, when he begged me to play something new and striking, as he somewhat viciously referred to my compositions, I determined I would have some revenge and fun at his expense. So I seated myself at the piano, and announced that I would perform the Capriccio, Op. 5, Mendelssohn, arranged for concert performance by myself.
"In a second the guests had comprehended that I intended being revenged on Mendelssohn for butchering my poor Rhapsodie, although I suppose many thought it a rather hazardous attempt to play a difficult composition in a new garb or arrangement on the spur of the moment, especially with the composer sitting within two yards of the keyboard. However, I did what I had announced to do, and at the conclusion, Mendelssohn, instead of bursting out with indignation and rage at my impudence and liberty, took my right hand in his, and turned it over, backward and forward, and bent the fingers this way and that, finally remarking laughingly, 'as I had beaten him on the keyboard, he thought his only way for vindication was to challenge me to box, but that now, since he had examined my hand, he would have to abandon that decision!' So everything passed over smoothly, and what might have been a very unpleasant meeting turned out a most enjoyable contretemps."