Saint-Saëns was one of the great pianists of his age,
albeit in the strict, prim style severe of the previous
epoch, whose crackling precision he carried into the
twentieth century. A lifelong Parisian surrounded by a
dazzling array of talent, the sheer edge of his genius
seemed to cut him off from more than superficial
attachments to those less gifted. But encountering
Liszt in 1866, in Paris for the first performance of
his "Gran" Mass -- the aged Liszt whose mightiest works
lay behind him --...(+)
Saint-Saëns was one of the great pianists of his age,
albeit in the strict, prim style severe of the previous
epoch, whose crackling precision he carried into the
twentieth century. A lifelong Parisian surrounded by a
dazzling array of talent, the sheer edge of his genius
seemed to cut him off from more than superficial
attachments to those less gifted. But encountering
Liszt in 1866, in Paris for the first performance of
his "Gran" Mass -- the aged Liszt whose mightiest works
lay behind him -- Saint-Saëns experienced the shock of
recognition, the deep artistic impact of another
personality. On March 8, in the salon of Princess
Metternich, he was tapped to play beside Liszt, reading
(that is, transposing at sight) from the orchestral
score two movements from Liszt's Mass, occasioning
Liszt's remark, "It is possible to be as much of a
musician as Saint-Saëns; it is impossible to be more
of one!" Then, Liszt played solo. Saint-Saëns
recalled, "...from beneath his fingers, almost
unconsciously, and with an astonishing range of
nuances, there murmured, surged, boomed, and stormed
the waves of the Legend of St. Francis of Paule walking
on the waters. Never again shall we see or hear
anything to compare with it." The consequences of this
meeting would take decades to shake out, interrupted by
the Franco-Prussian War. Through the 1870s Saint-Saëns
emulated Liszt in the composition of symphonic poems,
but it was inevitable that he should follow Liszt's
lead in the Transcendental and Paganini Études in the
exploration of keyboard technique. He composed his own
set of Études (6), 1877.
This fugue from the fifth etude (Originally in A Major)
shadowds a confiding melody in a shimmer of tremolos in
fifths and sixths to introduce a ruminative
contrapuntal exercise.
Although originally written for piano, I created this
arrangement for non-standard Woodwind Quartet (Flute,
Oboe, Clarinet and Bassoon).