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Arthur Friedheim's rolls of the Liszt Sonata were recorded on 5 October 1905, according to the receipt date of his fee. The recording was made for Ludwig Hupfeld, a Leipzig musical businessman and instrument maker, but one cannot really connect it to any particular instrument within the Hupfeld stable. Until the Leipzig Fair in the late summer of 1905, Hupfeld's main player instrument was the foot-pedalled Phonola, also known overseas as the Claviola, which was launched with a 72-note range, from low to high F, thus beating the Aeolian Company's Pianola, which had only 65 notes at its disposal.
Back in 1905 there were no dynamics, other than those that were created by the Phonolist's feet, though gradually over the next year Hupfeld's piano recordings began to be available for its first expression piano, the Phonoliszt, which was very restricted by having only three dynamic levels across the whole piano, plus pedals. In April 1906 Grieg noted in his diary that he had recorded for the Phonolist (sic), but the general catalogue of the Phonola remained the one that listed its rolls in the nearest relationship to the dates of recording.
Hupfeld's first full reproducing piano, the Dea, was not introduced until late 1907, and it increased the playback capacity to 85 notes, but whether the Hupfeld recording instrument (which marked up blank music rolls with note traces) was capable of recording all 85 is not clear. It may have been, but more research is needed on whether musical editors expanded 73-note recordings to 85 and thereby made occasional errors.
The two musicians who acted at that time as music producers for Hupfeld's rolll recordings were Ferdinand Karoly (1878-1942), a former Phonola demonstrator who left a copious diary of a trip to Australia in 1905/6 in order to help sell the Claviola, and who seems finally to have been killed in one of the Nazi death camps, and Frédéric François Prokesch, who organised Hupfeld's Paris recording sessions in 1908, and who can also be seen in some of the Leipzig photos.
The recording engineer who operated the marking machine for Friedheim's photographed recording session (not shown in this video because its copyright belongs to the University of Leipzig), was clearly Ludvik Bajde, a Slovenian whose father, Ivan, was responsible for creating the first lifelike keyboard-played violin, which formed the basis of Hupfeld's later Phonoliszt-Violina, a combination of player piano and violin driven by music rolls, and an instrument that has almost certainly never played as musically as when it was new! When Hupfeld effectively ran out of capital in the 1930s, Ludvik Bajde joined the chorus of the Leipzig Opera and often took minor solo roles as well.
With the publication of this video, there are now three versions of Friedheim's Liszt recording on KZbin, all taken from the later transcription to Hupfeld 88-note Animatic rolls. They are easily to be found via the search box. This one was first recorded in 2011, but I hesitated to release it, because I wanted to do better with a larger dynamic range. But a nasty skirmish with what appeared to be a terminal illness changed my mind for me in April of this year (2021). So I have cleaned it up, posted most of Friedheim's own annotated score, plus one or two suitable photographs, and it can now take its chances in the musical world.
My feeling with Liszt's Sonata, like the music of many composers, is that it tends to be inspired by experiences in the composer's personal life, rather than the dramatic legends for which audiences sometimes crave. Liszt had his fair share of the young ladies, in an age when their parents were actually quite keen to foster such associations, and the slow movement abounds with perceived male and female responses. There is perhaps the idea of a hero springing forth at the start, and at the very end there is an old man looking back, especially with the quiet ending that Liszt substituted for the original later in his life.
The further we go back in history, the less accurately we can define the truth, which in a way becomes a series of fairy tales. This roll recording has been through many hands, some more musical than others. My contribution can only be to play as sympathetically as possible, and I've erred on the side of gentleness, partly because I feel that way, and partly because I think that is how Liszt was feeling. The photo of Friedheim at the Duo-Art recording piano gives a better impression of his thoughtfulness in playing, whereas the Hupfeld photo is simply a formal shot with everyone staring at the camera.
Remember that recorded piano rolls are portraits, not photographs. They can express great beauty, but they cannot be used to assert that Liszt or Friedheim played at.some exact speed or dynamic intensity. And don't set the volume too loud!
Rex Lawson