Because Liszt was one of the most painted and photographed Europeans in the second half of the nineteenth century, the varied and widely available images of the man enable us to look closely at the way he presented himself to the public as he grew older. This chapter specifically discusses the late portraits and photographs of Liszt and compares them to those from his earlier life. Liszt appears to have cultivated a public persona as proud musical elder statesman, someone recognized by dignitaries and the public for his significant artistic accomplishments. This image can be compared and contrasted with another aspect of Liszt's public persona, the benevolent figure in religious garb. These two images clashed most obviously when Liszt, on occasion, decorated his clerical robe with the honorific medals he coveted and accumulated. As we shall shortly see, the comments of one critic in particular (Eduard Hanslick) and various published cartoons reveal a skeptical reaction. Even absent the medals, the seeming incongruity of the clerically dressed Liszt participating in benefit concerts and sitting for portraits could raise doubts about his religious sincerity. Liszt did not always have the self-awareness of the “performing self,” who takes precautions against embarrassment. His pride sometimes overcame the humility he sought, feeding him into his critics’ waiting hands.

We turn first to Liszt's portraits from his virtuoso years. Dana Gooley argues that Liszt's dominant image during the 1840s played upon an association with Napoleon. A number of music critics commented that Liszt's physiognomy resembled Napoleon's, with specific reference to their heads and their profiles in particular. Perhaps more importantly, critics noted a strong similarity in character between the two charismatic figures: both projected independence, pride, determination, and an uncompromising sense of integrity. To suggest this character resemblance, some portrait painters showed Liszt with a tense mouth and a direct, almost accusatory gaze, while some posed Liszt with arms crossed on his chest, looking defiantly into the eyes of the beholder. According to Gooley, “It is possible that the crossed arms are an explicitly Napoleonic motif. More important, however, is the air of nobility and determination the arms convey, which signify those character traits most similar to Napoleon's.” The combination of physical resemblance, character-evoking pose and facial expression suggested Napoleon—the young, military, preimperial Napoleon— to a society steeped in his memory (see fig 1.1).