Listening to Liszt’s take on Wagner’s Tannhäuser Overture – creative in the most authentic sense – is to recall Ronald Stevenson’s adage that, were most 19th-century repertoire suddenly to disappear, much of it could be recovered via Liszt’s transcriptions. This second instalment of Kenneth Hamilton’s series follows its well-received predecessor and, if ‘Salon and Stage’ does not attempt to scale those lofty heights of ‘Death and Transfiguration’ (2/22), the sheer breadth of Liszt’s sympathies allied to his questing approach makes for an engrossing listen.

Each disc comprises a cohesive sequence. The first features more Wagner, notably an eloquent rendering of Walther’s first trial-song in Die Meistersinger, but also such appealing rarities as two mellifluous songs from Danish-born Belgian (and Liszt’s successor at Weimar) Eduard Lassen. The last of the Soirées de Vienne decks out Schubert’s winsome dance sequence in virtuoso garb, while Mendelssohn’s faded evergreen undeniably takes flight, but the Hymn to St Cecilia does not so much elevate Gounod’s unassuming original as beat it into submission.

The second disc features three paraphrases on Verdi operas. Those from Rigoletto and Ernani focus on specific arias, but that from Aida ranges over the whole opera in a probing synthesis Verdi openly admired. Tchaikovsky was unlikely to have been disposed to the freewheeling harmonies in the Polonaise from Eugene Onegin but Meyerbeer would surely have responded positively to the fervent ‘Illustrations’ from L’Africaine, as too would Clara Schumann to that affecting take on her late song or Hans von Bülow to the deftness drawn from Dante’s Sonnet. Liszt himself is represented by all three Liebesträume, reworked from his songs into a trilogy of nocturnes.

Hamilton once again emerges as a born Lisztian in his unforced virtuosity and willingness to let these often fanciful transcriptions speak for themselves. Nor is he a slave to any specious authenticity, selecting freely from those versions available and not averse to making his own additions in a spirit of collaboration that Liszt would surely have condoned. Rounded off by the lithe wit of the Waltz from Gounod’s Faust, this is as well conceived and ear-opening a collection as its predecessor and as warmly recommended. Vol 3 is keenly awaited.