Franz Liszt’s most famous composition is Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2. Written in 1847 it was published as a piano solo in 1851.

It was an instant and huge hit, bagging No. 1 in the charts and leading to appearances on Top of the Pops and… oh right yeah, wrong era for that kind of stuff!

Regardless, Liszt’s composition has a melancholic opening followed by a spectacular, mischievous, joyous closing five minutes that are quite berserk. And we’re here to investigate the history of this bangin’ tune.

Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 and the Joy of Csárdás Dancing

Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 in C-sharp minor (number S.244/2 in Liszt’s composition list) and it’s a large-scale work.

The composer dedicated it to writer Count László Teleki (1811-1861).

A full performance of the piece can last up to 12 minutes, but performers often rearrange it as they see fit. Often they’ll just just to the upbeat ending section fast as that’s the most popular bit with audiences.

Liszt was inspired to write the work due to verbunkos, which was an 18th century style of Hungarian dance and folk music. It’s based on the “csárdás”, a type of Hungarian dance.

It begins with a “lassan”, which is the slow opening section. It’s moody, melancholic, and dramatic. Like a storm is brewing overhead and it’s affecting the pianist’s mood.

Soon enough the clouds part and thusly arrives an energetic and frenetic mood full of the joys of spring. Like a puppy hurling itself into a river to fetch a ball.

This is the “friska” section and is enormously popular with audiences. It moves at a heck of a rate and has a clear run of spontaneity.

You can see below how csárdás impacted on this famous piece.

Liszt’s work was inspired by the Hungarian music he was around when he was young. As you can hear above, there’s a lot of rhythmic spontaneity and energy.

This is the “gypsy scale” notable to the country, also called the Hungarian minor scale. It’s musical pattern is this:

W, H, +, H, H, +, H

1 2 ♭3 ♯4 5 ♭6 7

That’s where W is a whole step and H is a half step. The plus sign is for an augmented second step. We’re not musicians, dammit, so here’s this learned gentleman to explain how it all ties together.

For Liszt, Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 was a big hit on the concert stage. This led to a full orchestral version and Liszt even adapted it a piano duet version in 1874.

The orchestrated edition throws in piccolo, flutes, oboes, clarinets, bassoons, horns, trumpets, trombones, timpani, a bass drum, harp, and all sorts of other gubbins into the mix.

Some of those versions even throw the piano out of the mix.

However, there’s no denying it’s the solo piano rendition that holds such reverence amongst classical music fans. It’s a mighty piece of work that’s as much a celebration of Hungarian culture as it is a crazy ride.

Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 as the Piano Playing Standard

Due to its complexity, frantic pace, and popularity in the 19th century the composition became the unofficial standard for any pianist wanting to prove his or her worth.

Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 was so popular with audiences it was expected of all notable pianists to include it in their live performance.

It’d be like The Who leaving out Substitute from their set.

To this day it seems pianists want to prove their worth with the piece, working themselves into a demented reverie in pursuit of hitting every note.

You’ve got the likes of Georgian concert pianist Khatia Buniatishvili who’s a fantastic player, but has also attended Selfie University and can’t seem to do a show without flaunting her figure at every moment.

Buniatishvili does a lot of social media content heavily relying on her chest to sell her shows, so yeah. Sex sells and all that. Being prudes, we just find the self-absorption a bit tedious.

Anyway, the enduring popularity of Liszt’s work sees it pop up in modern culture.

The Marx Brothers featured it across many films. We remember it in various TV adverts from the 1990s. But then there’s the legendary case of a certain Disney cartoon. The one that brought the work to our attention during our childhood.

The Cat Concerto (Tom and Jerry Short) and Humour in Classical Music

Our knowledge of Liszt’s work came about thanks to a Tom and Jerry short. Disney’s cartoon launched in April 1947 and won an Oscar for its efforts.

We think we must have had a Tom and Jerry VHS of this in the early ’90s as we remember watching it quite often. And Mr. Wapojif Snr. would take a particular interest in the music, even stopping doing stuff like hoovering to come and listen.

That’s some proper serious culture power there if you can abruptly end a bit of dust removal chores.

Some classical buffs may baulk at using classical music as a source of comedy, but this has been going on for ages. Mozart wrote some crass scatological pieces and there’s also the case of Pagagnini (always an excuse for us to jam the below clip in).

Lizst’s work also appeared in various other Disney cartoons. It turned up in Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988), episodes of Mickey Mouse, Daffy Duck, and Donald Duck.

Thanks to Disney, the piece may now be closely associated with animated cartoons.

But appreciate it for what it is on a grander scale. Arguably Liszt’s finest work and something of a time capsule into the times and culture of central Europe in the 18th century.