Liszt/Stradal | Fischerknabe "Es lächelt der See"

After 15 minutes of practice I am happy with the result, it's beyond my technique, this piece, but I try to push my boundaries. Sorry, I should pratice more but that is all the time I can spend right now. Anyways, as compensation here is a very interesting letter by Stradal recollecting his memories of Liszt: Before I begin with my memories of Franz Liszt, I must first briefly return to my boyhood. My father, a lawyer in Teplitz, Bohemia, was very musically gifted and, as a law student, had attended all of Liszt's concerts in Vienna in the early 1840s. He often told us children about Liszt's incomparable playing and his almost fairytale-like successes. My father went on to describe how deeply moved he was each time he left the concert hall, stirred to his very core and moved to tears by Liszt's demonic and equally magnificent vocal interpretations. He said he had only ever experienced such profound emotion when attending a Shakespearean drama at the Burgtheater in Vienna. He particularly emphasized that no other singer could perform Schubert's songs the way Liszt did in his piano arrangements. Beethoven's Adelaide, along with Schubert's Erlkönig, was also considered the pinnacle of Liszt's dramatic performance. Furthermore, my father told us about the high honors Liszt had received from princes and potentates, and that the master, due to his nobility, was an aristocrat in the truest sense of the word. My father later often heard Carl Tausig, Anton Rubinstein, and Hans von Bülow, but always mentioned the great difference between their playing, which often gave the impression of immense study, and the innate, natural power of Liszt's performance style. When I was about seven years old, Liszt stayed for a few days as a guest of Prince Clary in Teplitz. A grand soirée was also held, to which my father, as a city councilor, was invited. I stood for hours in front of the prince's castle, explored the magnificent park, and even ventured fearfully into the eerily long and gloomy corridors of the building, from whose walls portraits of the prince's ancestors gazed down solemnly. I climbed to the windows of the enormous salon and peered through the curtains, hoping to catch a glimpse of the otherworldly figure, Franz Liszt. But I returned home empty-handed and saddened to my mother, who, by my long absence, had been anxiously waiting for news of me. Then came my time at the Gymnasium in Leitmeritz, during which my deepest desire was to escape the miserable musical circumstances there and escape to the big city, where I could find the opportunity to develop myself fully as a musician. I lived in Leitmeritz in a house next to the tunnel through which the Northwest Railway cuts through the city. Every time the Berlin express train roared through this tunnel at night towards Vienna, I awoke and envied the travelers who could journey to the sunny land of my dreams. The thought of going to Weimar or Rome to see Liszt seemed utterly impossible, as I realized that with my current abilities I couldn't even approach the hero. But at least I longed to go to Vienna, to different artistic circumstances. This painful longing, especially since I no longer hoped for the fulfillment of my wishes, led to my becoming seriously ill at the age of 16 and languishing for months with a persistent fever before finally feeling better. At that time, an acquaintance happened to give me Liszt's composition "Vallee d'Obermann" from the I. année de pélèrinage, as well as Book 1 of Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier. As weak as I still was physically, I immediately set about studying both works, and although I was not yet able to master them artistically, I was nevertheless able to fully absorb their content. At that time, I had not yet encountered any original works by Liszt and was now confronted with one of his most profound compositions, one of the darkest works ever written, in which all degrees of pain, from the deepest resignation to the wildest outbursts of despair, are set to music. Liszt wrote this work under the impression made on him by Sénancourt's philosophical novel "Obermann." The novel's protagonist (set in St. Moritz, Switzerland) is afflicted by a profound melancholy, bordering on mental illness. The content has nothing to do with a valley.Just as there is no Obermann Valley in Switzerland, the name Vallée d'Obermann can likely be explained as follows: The French say "Vallee de la misère" (Valley of Misery). Liszt symbolically named the work "Vallee d'Obermann" because Obermann appeared to him as the embodiment of misery, "la misère." Because of 5000 character limit, continuation in the comments below.