Mephisto Waltz No.1

Liszt’s pact with the devil was long and rewarding. Starting in 1854 with a sinister portrait of Goethe’s Mephistopheles in the Faust Symphony, it was revived by his discovery of Nikolaus Lenau’s alternative interpretation of the Faust legend in 1859 and it lasted until a year before his death, when he wrote the weirdly prophetic Bagatelle sans tonalité. Liszt’s first reaction to Lenau was an orchestral work, Two Episodes from Lenau’s Faust, the second part of which was published in 1862 in a piano version under the title Der Tanz in der Dorfschenke (The dance at the village inn). Later, when he conceived the idea of writing a series of piano pieces in the same vein, Der Tanz in der Dorfschenke became Mephisto Waltz No.1 and was followed by a second Mephisto Waltz in 1881, a third in 1883, an incomplete fourth in 1885 and, under the same Mephistophelean spell, the Bagatelle sans tonalité. There is also an unambitious and not very interesting Mephisto Polka, written for a favourite pupil in 1883.

The scene of the relevant episode in Lenau’s Faust is a peasant wedding party at a village inn. As we know from Don Giovanni, an event like that is an irresistible challenge for any self-respecting seducer who happens to witness the celebrations. Sure enough, Faust arrives at the inn with his demonic companion Mephistopheles, who takes up a violin and whirls the company into an orgiastic dance. Taking advantage of the situation, Faust leads one of the girls out of the inn and into a wood echoing with the sound of nightingales – though not, it seems, to draw her attention to the bird song.

While this scene is the background inspiration of all the Mephisto Waltzes, its events are followed in detail only in the first of them, the original Tanz in der Dorfschenke. It begins with a characteristically devilish outrage of convention as Mephistopheles tunes his violin and Liszt piles fifth upon fifth into a harmonic accretion that must have seemed a howling dissonance to his contemporaries. The music Mephisto plays to the villagers is as uninhibited as his preparation for it, a turbulent and unstoppable dance calculated to sweep them off their feet. It most effectively offsets the central theme of the work, a contrastingly sensitive and hesitantly syncopated but highly seductive waltz tune, marked espressivo amoroso, which is awarded to Faust himself to further his adventures in the wood outside. The subject of an extended and beautifully scored virtuoso development, the Faust theme is combined at the climax of the construction with allusions to the first theme and driven into an infernal gallop. The voice of the nightingale is heard in poetic isolation just before the rumbling onset of a short but dramatic coda.

Liszt was fascinated by the Faust legend from his first encounter with it in 1830, when Berlioz introduced him to it, until shortly before his death. The earliest and greatest manifestation of his interest was the Faust Symphony, inspired by Goethe’s transcendental treatment of the legend and completed in its final (choral) version in 1857. He was drawn too to Nikolaus Lenau’s Faust, a quite different interpretation in the form of a long narrative poem which the composer discovered in 1859. His immediate reaction was an orchestral work, Two Episodes from Lenau’s “Faust” - Procession by Night and The Dance at the Village Inn. It must have been when he was working on the second of the two episodes in 1859 or 1860 that he realised he was interested at least as much in Faust’s devilish companion Mephistopheles as in Faust himself. Certainly, when he conceived the idea of writing a series of piano pieces in the same vein, The Dance at the Village Inn became Mephisto Waltz No.1, which was followed by a second Mephisto Waltz in 1881, a third in 1883, an incomplete fourth in 1885 and, under the same Mephistophelean spell, the remarkably prophetic Bagatelle sans tonalité in 1885.

The scene of the relevant episode in Lenau’s Faust is a peasant wedding party at a village inn. As we know from Don Giovanni, an event like that is an irresistible challenge for any self-respecting seducer who happens to witness the celebrations. Sure enough, Faust arrives at the inn with Mephistopheles, who takes up a violin and whirls the company into an orgiastic dance. Taking advantage of the situation, Faust leads one of the girls out of the inn and into a wood echoing with the sound of nightingales - though not, it seems, to draw her attention to the bird song.

While this scene is the background inspiration of all the Mephisto Waltzes, its events are followed in detail only in the first of them, the original Dance at the Village Inn or, as it is now known in the orchestral version too, Mephisto Waltz No.1. It begins with a characteristically devilish outrage of convention as Mephistopheles tunes his violin and Liszt piles fifth upon fifth into a harmonic accretion on woodwind and strings that must have seemed a howling dissonance to his contemporaries. The music Mephisto plays to the villagers is as uninhibited as his preparation for it, a turbulent and unstoppable dance calculated to sweep them off their feet. It most effectively offsets the central theme of the work, a contrastingly sensitive and hesitantly syncopated but highly seductive waltz tune for cellos, which is awarded to Faust himself to further his adventures in the wood outside. The subject of an extended and fantastically scored virtuoso development, the Faust theme is combined at the climax of the construction with allusions to the first theme and driven into an infernal gallop. The voice of the nightingale is heard on solo flute in a last amorous episode just before a poetic harp cadenza and a short but dramatic coda.

Gerald Larner©