The power of fragments: when time shapes creation
The 19th century offers fascinating examples of works that took shape over long periods, where inspiration emerged in fragments, shaped by travels and life experiences. Far from being a limitation, this fragmented approach became a creative force, enriching each piece with multiple influences.
Hector Berlioz was a perfect example of this. His passionate reading of Goethe’s Faust stayed with him for nearly 20 years, fueling his imagination as he traveled across Europe. His creative process followed the rhythm of his nomadic life—composing between concerts, from one city to the next, in cafés, in hotel rooms. A peasant choir motif surfaced in Budapest, a celestial finale took shape in Prague, a student song found its first notes in Breslau… This patchwork of musical ideas, gathered over time and across places, came together into a singular work where choral writing played a central role.
Other long-gestating Faust works
Berlioz was not the only composer drawn to Goethe’s Faust. Robert Schumann turned it into a secular oratorio, Szenen aus Goethes Faust (Scenes from Goethe’s Faust). His approach was unconventional—he began working on it in 1844, starting with the final scene, and only completed the piece with the overture in 1853. Nearly a decade of writing was followed by another long wait: the work wasn’t premiered until 1862 in Cologne. A wait that proved futile, as Schumann had passed away in 1853. His closing scene, Alles Vergängliche ist nur ein Gleichnis, is still considered one of his greatest choral achievements.
Franz Liszt provides another example with his Faust Symphony. The first fragments of the work date back to the 1840s, but it wasn’t until 1857 that the final version premiered in Weimar. In the meantime, Liszt kept reworking the piece—most of it took shape in the summer of 1854, yet revisions continued in the following years. The addition of the Chorus Mysticus, written for male choir and solo tenor, further enriched the original score. Even in 1880, nearly 25 years after the first version, Liszt added another ten measures to the second movement. This long creative process, much like Berlioz’s La Damnation de Faust, reflects an approach where the work evolves and matures alongside its creator.