Undoubtedly, the best-known works from the deuxieme annee are the three Petrarch Sonnets and the Dante Sonata. Liszt stayed in Italy between 1837 and 1839 and the pieces reflect the deep impression made on him by Italian art and literature. ''Il penseroso'', for instance, the second of the set, which he also transcribed as an orchestral work (the second of his Trois odes funebres), and again reworked from this back into a piano version (La notte), was inspired by sculptures of Michelangelo that decorate the tomb of Lorenzo de'Medici. The 13-minute-long La notte features a central section of a dreamy, ecstatic beauty that bears a quotation from Virgil's Aeneid.
One could not wish for readings of greater depth than those offered by Michel Dalberto. He takes the music very seriously, Liszt emerging as a creative spirit submerged in gloom. One senses a person whose quest is only leading him deeper into the recesses of his own psyche. The charmingly rhythmic ''Canzonetta del Salvatore Rosa'' (Annees) comes as about the only moment of respite.
Dalberto really listens to every note and harmony. Occasionally, especially when the music is slow, this practice leads to an impression that things are unnecessarily static but it does also succeed in conveying a sense of poetic trance. Liszt sounds a little insipid in the Petrarch Sonnet No. 123, in particular, and I felt here that Dalberto's interpretation would probably have meant rather more to him than to the general listener.
The ''Dante'' Sonata receives a well-integrated performance of considerable depth. Control over sonority is always masterful. Perhaps Dalberto's left-hand octave technique is not as strong as it might be, but certainly there is nothing here that spoils one's appreciation of a powerfully imaginative reading. The piano sound is attractive, except when it is loud; here, in some instances, there is an element of clatter.'