Lisztomania or Lisztophagia?

Yes, why not talk about Liszt? After all, this is 2011, the Year of Liszt.

After having read quite a bit about my countryman and how he played the piano I of course feel nostalgic. If only it was possible to have a magic De Lorean and travel back in time to hear the great master play, surrounded by admirers, groupies, beautiful Souls…

But I regain my senses and sober up.

A pianist described by his contemporaries as totally unique, a force of nature, almost on a different planet by himself, will surely dissapoint, no matter how fantastic and outrageous his playing is. And even if he doesn´t dissapoint, a sad and predictable thing will happen: he will be teared to pieces by the hungry lions, the musicologists, the hacks, the professors, the whole learned lot whose job it is to dissect, disrespect and leave no underwear unturned.

Did I say lions? I meant vultures.

From now on I will not crave reality but will be content, very content, with imaginings about Liszt´s playing.

Keep phantasizing, folks!

In other, more weighty matters, phantasy is literally deadly and we can´t get reality enough.