A LETTER ON ORCHESTRAL CONDUCTING
by Franz Liszt
[...] The works, that is, for which I publicly confess my admiration and predilection, belong in the most part to those which the more or less famous, and especially the self-styled "virtuoso" conductors, find either not at all or little worthy of their personal sympathy, so that an execution of such music, cared for by the aforementioned, belongs to the world of rarities.
These works are counted among those that today are generally cataloged as belonging to the style of Beethoven's late manner, the origin of which was placed, until not long ago and with no respect, upon the deafness and mental aberration of Beethoven (!).
Such works, in my opinion, demand from the orchestra a progress toward which we are only now beginning to move, but which is still far from being completely achieved in all its developments. A progress in accent, in rhythm, in the care of phrasing and the details of certain specific passages; in the declamation and the balancing, as a whole, of shadows and lights; in short, a progress in the style of the execution itself.
This way of doing things establishes and tightens between the orchestral mass and the one who conducts it relationships quite different from those that usually exist with an imperturbable time-beater. Because in many passages, the harsh, rigid observance of the tempo and of every single part of the measure (1, 2, 3, 4; 1, 2, 3, 4) prevails against the reasons and necessities of expression, and suffocates and nullifies them. Here, once again, the letter kills the spirit. This is, from an artistic point of view, a death sentence that I will never sign, no matter how odious the attacks that, with simulated impartiality, may be directed at me.
For the works of Beethoven, Berlioz, and other masters of similar stature, it is even less easy for me than for others to see what advantages—which I could contest with full conviction even in cases different from these—could be realized if a Conductor were to appropriate the functions of a windmill, and if, sweating profusely, he strove to communicate to the orchestral mass the ardor of his fanaticism.
Especially there, where it is a matter of understanding, of feeling, of spiritually penetrating, of an enflaming of hearts in the common enjoyment of the beautiful, the grandiose, and the true in art and poetry: especially there, the satisfied presumption and mechanical skill of the typical conductor should no longer suffice; not only that: but this should be deemed irreconcilable with the dignity and the high freedom of art. [...]