Bolet researches in Weimar

New Zealand's Evening Post (11 March 1961) carries a text by Jorge Bolet on his preparation for the 1960 film (with Dirk Bogarde)

When William Goetz, the producer of "Song Without End " first approached me with the idea of portraying musically the great Franz Liszt , I must confess I received the suggestion with mixed feelings.

Naturally, I was enthusiastic at the opportunity to play the music of a man who had always been my artistic idol, but the offer had its terrifying quality.

I would have to play as the greatest pianist who ever lived had played, a task which could serve to make me only more aware of my own limitations. And yet I could not bring myself to turn down such an opportunity! I decided to accept. 

After some deliberation,  I decided that in order to play like this man, I must first fully understand the emotions and thoughts which possessed him when he composed and performed his works. Thus, I embarked upon an ambitious reading programme designed to steep myself in as much of Liszt as possible — his music, his loves, his life, his times. I practically haunted the libraries and bookshops in a one-man campaign to completely absorb myself in the man, as much as the music. No college student ever crammed more for an examination!

In addition to his prolific writing and performing, Liszt was one of the greatest teachers in musical history, and I had the great personal advantage in my endeavours of having studied in my youth in Vienna under Moritz Rosenthal, who had been a pupil of Liszt. I also spent many worthwhile hours in Weimar atthe Liszt Museum, which contains his manuscripts, his personal correspondence, his music salon perfectly preserved as it was in his lifetime — in short, everything that was his life. At last I felt that I was ready and I began recording the sound-track of the picture. One immediate problem which I faced concerned the particular dramatic scene in which the musical piece was being performed. For example, was he before a dazzling audienee of the crowned heads of Europe? In a ballroom, or perhaps in an intimate salon, as was the popular fashion in his day? In his studio attempting to polish and perfect a certain piece? Or in the villa of his beloved Carolyne? And yet, to balance this problem I also had-to remember that Liszt was, in the final analysis, still Liszt, no matter where he performed, and that even when he played the compositions of other giants of music, he was first, last and always himself.

A difficult technical problem concerned the fact that everything I played was being simultaneously recorded on three separate sound-tracks. I had always to keep in mind that every flaw, no matter how seemingly insignificant, would be magnified a thousandfold. The most minute error in the playing meant a retake was necessary. And so it should be! Those five weeks in which I attempted to feel as Liszt felt, think as Liszt thought, and play as Liszt played, were equal in musical benefit to me to five years of concert playing.