{"id":8162,"date":"2025-09-08T08:00:56","date_gmt":"2025-09-08T06:00:56","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blog.henle.de\/en\/?p=8162"},"modified":"2025-09-05T13:06:07","modified_gmt":"2025-09-05T11:06:07","slug":"at-the-pinnacle-of-virtuosity","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blog.henle.de\/en\/2025\/09\/08\/at-the-pinnacle-of-virtuosity\/","title":{"rendered":"At the pinnacle of virtuosity"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Charles -Valentin Alkan, ca. 1865 (photo of unknown origin, Biblioth\u00e8que nationale de France, Paris)<\/p><\/div>\n

\u201cAlkan? Lots of notes!\u201d \u2013 That\u2019s what you hear when mentioning that you\u2019ve edited the Symphonie<\/em> for piano by French composer Charles Valentin Alkan (1813\u20131888) for Henle: HN 1657<\/a>. And \u201clots of notes\u201d, coupled with the expert French pronunciation of \u201cAlkan\u201d, is all that many music professionals know about this composer, myself included until recently. This is not surprising, considering how much Alkan shunned publicity, though in no way does it reflect the increasing importance (documented in a growing number of recordings) that his music is accorded by those studying 19th-century piano virtuosity or even capable of playing the works. Beyond question, this requires pianistically masterful hands. Three are ideal. The great pianist Marc-Andr\u00e9 Hamelin<\/a>\u00a0is, for example, one of those terrific Alkan interpreters who have three hands.<\/p>\n

There were times when Alkan was considered one of the most important piano wizards. Franz Liszt was downright intimidated by Alkan\u2019s piano playing, and that\u2019s saying something. When Ferruccio Busoni once listed those he considered the most important piano composers after Beethoven, he named Liszt, Chopin, Schumann, Brahms and \u2013 Alkan. So, he must therefore be a Henle composer of the highest order,\u00a0reigning supreme, if not for Isaac Alb\u00e9niz and Tomaso Albinoni, in the alphabetical catalogue.<\/p>\n

As Wolfgang Rathert explains in his preface to our Symphonie<\/em> edition, Alkan\u2019s Douze \u00c9tudes dans tous les tons mineurs<\/em>, op. 39, also stands at the pinnacle of what the \u00e9tude genre achieved in the 19th century. The Symphonie<\/em> comes from this collection of \u00e9tudes; the work\u2019s title should thus not be taken to suggest a classical orchestral symphony. In opus 39, Alkan composed twelve piano \u00e9tudes, one in each of the minor keys, following a key signature plan with an increasing number of flats, an enharmonic hinge and a decreasing number of sharps. Hitting you in the face upon opening the Symphonie<\/em> edition are its curiosities. Babylonian chord towers, serpentine garlands of ties and legato slurs, in some places swarms of double sharps clearly indicating that the measures in question are at a decided distance from the actual key signature.<\/p>\n

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Symphonie<\/em>, 1st mvt.: Evidence of mid-19th-century chordal tower-building, Henle-Urtext<\/p><\/div>\n

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Symphonie<\/em>, 4th mvt.: More accidentals and ties\/slurs could hardly be notated, Henle-Urtext<\/p><\/div>\n

Even the seemingly friendly minuet becomes a veritable witches\u2019 dance owing to its ruthless tempo. Part of their special aura is that Alkan sometimes gave his op. 39 \u00e9tudes descriptive names and grouped several of them together. Our Symphonie<\/em> consists of \u00e9tudes nos. 4\u20137, followed by a concerto that also comprises four \u00e9tudes. Finally, \u00c9tude no. 12, Le Festin d\u2019\u00c9sope<\/em>, has long been available in Henle Urtext as HN 1394<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Although eccentric geniuses are so highly valued in music history, Alkan was virtually forgotten, certainly also partly due to the fact that the deeply devout Jew withdrew for years into private life to translate the Bible and study the Talmud, rarely appearing in public where others were effectively marketing their music.<\/p>\n

All the more reason for Alkan\u2019s artistry to be rediscovered today. The Symphonie<\/em> is still usually printed as a reproduction of the 1857 first edition. Our edition now gives it Henle Urtext quality. The modern, dense yet uncluttered musical notation preserves important features of the original while freeing it of unnecessary symbol clusters and oddities that are now rather confusing. And although there are only a few errors in the first edition thanks to Alkan\u2019s pedantry, a number of problematic passages have been clarified.<\/p>\n

As with Le Festin d\u2019\u00c9sope,<\/em> the fingering was provided by the superb pianist and Alkan specialist Vincenzo Maltempo. For me, trying his fingering out myself in the manuscript stage was an experience. Among other things I asked Maltempo whether he really wanted to play a fairly large interval with the 5th and 2nd fingers in a tricky passage. Yes, of course. Though he had a precise musical derivation for this, he said that above all it was still an \u00e9tude, \u201cso it would be an opportunity to improve legato and finger stretching\u201d. To me, as a mere mortal pianist, that sounded pretty amusing, because according to this logic, climbing an eight-thousand-metre mountain would be a nice opportunity to practise holding on to overhanging rock faces. But Maltempo is, of course, correct in his virtuoso thinking, because anyone who plays Alkan is moving within the highest regions of piano artistry.<\/span><\/p>\n