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1 I Got Hungarian Rhythm! (8/13/15 NFA Lecture-Demonstration) By Walfrid Kujala, with collaboration by Sherry Kujala, flute, and Dianne Frazer, piano I “got” Hungarian rhythm partly because I had the extraordinary privilege of playing under two great Hungarian conductors, Fritz Reiner and Sir Georg Solti, for thirty-one of my forty-seven years with the Chicago Symphony. Also during those years we had five Hungarian guest conductors, Antal Doráti, István Kertész, Eugene Ormandy, George Szell and Ádám Fischer. These seven maestri covered all the orchestral works of Béla Bartók and Zoltán Kodály several times over, and even Leo Weiner’s relatively small orchestral oeuvre was represented. But what about Hungary’s most famous composer, Franz Liszt? Surprisingly, of his thirteen groundbreaking tone poems, Les Préludes was the only one that was ever programmed during my CSO years. But fortunately, Bernard Haitink, that great non-Hungarian conductor, and the London Philharmonic have recorded all thirteen, and they’re on YouTube--over four hours of phenomenal music! (Haitink was principal conductor of the Chicago Symphony from 2006 to 2010.) The other part of my “getting” Hungarian rhythm came from listening to, and studying, the absorbing recordings of Hungarian pianist György Sándor (1912-2005) who had recorded all of Bartók’s piano works plus many works of Kodály and others. Sándor studied piano with Bartók for four years at the Liszt Academy in Budapest, where he also studied composition with Zoltán Kodály (Bartók loved teaching piano, but never taught composition, fearing that it would stifle his creativity). Sándor kept up a close friendship with Bartók throughout his life, and had the honor of performing the posthumous premiere of his Third Piano Concerto with the Philadelphia Orchestra conducted by Eugene Ormandy just four months after Bartók’s untimely death on September 26, 1945 in New York. Sándor enjoyed a long and distinguished career, teaching and concertizing until into his nineties. He taught piano at Southern Methodist University from 1956 to 1960, was on the faculty at the University of Michigan from 1961 to 1981 and then at the Juilliard School beginning in 1982. His book, On Piano Playing: Motion, Sound, Expression (Schirmer Books), has been widely recognized, not only for its valuable technical advice, but even more for its astute coverage of phrasing and style. It’s a favorite reference in my library. Sándor’s recording of Bartók’s Fifteen Hungarian Peasant Songs has been a very important influence in my own interpretation of the flute and piano version by Paul Arma (Arma’s edition omits the Ballade movement, which was No. 6 in Bartók’s original piano suite). Sándor’s convincing use of rubato and the Scotch snap rhythm are especially effective in the way they highlight the Hungarian folksong elements. The Scotch snap (sometimes called Lombard rhythm) (Example 1) appears in folk songs of several ethnicities besides Scottish, and many well-known composers have also favored it, e.g. Mozart G Major Flute Concerto, 3rd movt. (Ex. 2) and Symphony No. 40, 2nd mvt. (Ex. 3); Dvořák New World Symphony, 1st mvt. (Ex. 4); Beethoven Eroica Symphony, 2nd mvt. (Ex. 5); and John Williams in his movie score for “Lincoln”, soundtrack by the Chicago Symphony (Ex. 6). 2 I highly recommend watching a video that traces the remarkable and entertaining history of the Scotch snap, produced and narrated by British musicologist Philip Tagg. He presents a wealth of beautiful examples. You can readily find it online by Googling scotch snap, the big picture. Undoubtedly, many other Philip Tagg YouTube videos (there are over forty of them!) will tempt you, such as intel inside analysis and troubles with tonal terminology—it’s a mess! by logging on to Philip Tagg’s Audiovisuals. Of course the Scotch snap is endemic to much of Hungarian music. Some say it’s because the first syllable of any Hungarian word is always accented. Others say that it derives from some types of Hungarian folk dances. In any case, it’s an element that needs to be performed in an authentic, convincing style. That means that you often have to veer away from the printed notation, much like you would do in swing music or notes inégale, and that’s certainly the case with the Bartók Hungarian Peasant Songs. Almost all of the Scotch snaps occur only in the first four movements, and those are convincingly demonstrated in Sándor’s recording. I’ve transcribed some of Sándor’s Scotch snap rhythms in Ex. 7-11 (but do keep in mind that these are approximations, not to be taken too strictly). I’ve also tried to indicate some of his rubatos, especially in the first song (which is actually labelled “Rubato”). Horizontal arrows to the left signify a holding back of the tempo, and arrows to the right signify a moving ahead. Bartók himself recorded the Hungarian Peasant Songs, but unfortunately he did only the last seven movements. However, in those movements you can still appreciate his exciting and sometimes surprising application of rubato (and there are some Scotch snaps in No. 2 of the Vieilles danses). Bartók’s own recording can be heard online as part of a 45-minute compilation of some of his other music, all of which he originally recorded with great clarity on piano rolls around 1927 (see next paragraph). Piano roll recordings were extremely popular from 1901 through the early 1930’s, and many of the leading composers and pianists took advantage of that medium, including Mahler, Grieg, Debussy, Rachmaninoff, Scriabin, Gershwin, Ravel, Grainger, Paderewski and of course Bartók, plus many jazz and popular artists. As a nine-year old, I remember pumping the pedals on my grandfather’s reproducing piano with great enthusiasm listening to J. F. Wagner’s Under the Double Eagle and many other popular marches. Please Google bartok plays bartok welte piano roll recordings. The Hungarian Peasant Songs begin at 34:17 and include numbers 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 8, 9 of the Vieilles danses. Immediately following the Hungarian Peasant Songs, at 38:55, there is a wonderful surprise: A repeat of the last movement, but this time it’s the original folk version played on a bagpipe-style instrument on a field recording that Bartók made in the early 1900’s on his Edison wax cylinder phonograph. Following that are several more intriguing samples from those field recordings. Here are some suggested performance modifications of the HPS based on my own experience: 1. In my own performances of the Hungarian Peasant Songs I switch to piccolo in No. 1 of the Vieilles danses, bars 27-51 (but I do play bars 28, 31, 34, 37, 39-51 an octave lower). I also play piccolo in No. 3 and 4. 3 2. Since Paul Arma, the transcriber, was hewing to the French flute tradition, he kept the sixteenth note phrase of bar 19 of No. 2 in the piano part in case one’s flute had no low B. But if you do own a low B flute (as most players do nowadays), it would be best to transfer it from the piano part to the flute, so it will then correspond to bar 13 of the flute part. 3. I also strongly recommend that you get the original piano version of the Hungarian Peasant Songs and ask your pianist to play the Ballade movement (the one that Arma omitted) in your next recital. It’s a beautiful piece with some unusual contrasts, and I’m sure your pianist would be delighted to showcase it. (The Ballade would be placed between the Scherzo and the first Vieilles danse.) Incidentally, the Universal edition of the piano version of the Hungarian Folk Songs also has an introductory page showing the text and music of the original folk songs. Sándor’s recording of the Hungarian Peasant Songs is not currently on YouTube but is available through ArkivMusic as part of an attractive five-CD all-Bartók set, listed at $22.99. By the way, there is a engrossing interview online of Sándor speaking with Bruce Duffie in which he recounts many fascinating stories and observations about Bartók. I especially enjoyed reading about Bartók’s attitude toward his tempo indications and metronome markings, also the description of his unusual pendulum-like pocket metronome. (This interview took place in 1990 in Chicago.) Sándor: Since many more people (now) play Bartók’s music, and since he wrote a piece that’s called Allegro barbaro, they have in mind that Bartók has to be played percussively and barbarically. That, unfortunately, puts a stamp on a lot of Bartók performances—even in Hungary! He left Hungary many, many years ago, and there was no break in a tradition in Hungary. But all over the world, whenever you hear Bartók it’s usually done in a ferocious, barbaric, sort of motoric way. I happen to be very fortunate. I studied with him four years; I heard him play any kind of music, and the most important characteristic of Bartók’s playing and interpretation was rubato, freedom, an improvisatory quality. That was the most important thing. Of course, then come the arguments. “Why did he write so precisely the metronome signs; why did he write so precisely the duration of the piece?” That’s simply because in those days when he wrote his music, nobody knew a thing about his style; they didn’t know that to do with it at all! So he had to write a lot of information. But when he played those pieces which he marked so very carefully he played them completely differently! Duffie: So he assumed that any performer who got under the skin of the music would then make it his own and take it beyond the printed page? Sándor: Just like any other music! Just like any other music! Very often Bartók wrote down exact metronome markings, and he played those totally differently. A very good example is the First Piano Concerto. I happened to study with him the First and Second Concertos. The metronome markings in the third movement of the First Concerto are excessively fast, but all our colleagues—the honest, good musicians—all read the markings and say, “That’s what Bartók meant; let’s play that way.” I heard Bartók play it very differently. If you follow exactly the metronome marks in that particular one and in some of the other pieces, too, the character 4 totally changes! In the last movement of the Opus 14, which is a slow movement, the metronome marking is incredibly fast! Duffie: Then why did he make this outlandish marking? Sándor: That question comes up all the time. He had a little pocket metronome. Not the one that you or I use, but one with a little string and a weight hanging on it. It wasn’t accurate at all! So his metronome markings should be considered as relative markings. When 64 is followed by 80, then you know that this section is faster. But certainly do not take the absolute measurements with the markings. Duffie: Then why don’t the publishers go back through the scores and either eliminate the metronome markings or change them from precise measurements to “slower”, “faster”, and so forth? Sándor: Good question. Right now we are involved in re-editing the Third Piano Concerto, and whenever I come up with any idea of interpreting it, the answer by the publisher and by everybody is, “Bartók wrote this down; it must be exactly the way he wrote it down.” Who am I to argue? I recorded the concertos again in Hungary, last year. They are coming out in April, and we spent hours with the correct tempo markings. The real answer is, “Because he wasn’t fussy. He wasn’t dogmatic or pedantic.” He wrote an approximate something, and he knew very well that when it gets played in Orchestra Hall or Avery Fischer Hall, the acoustics are different and the tempo will be different. Check his recordings of the Mikrokosmos. He recorded, I think, forty-five of them, and the exact metronome markings are there in the music. Just listen to him and how he plays! Duffie: They’re not close to the printed indications! Sándor: No! The mood of the music is what counts, not the speed. (For the full interview, google: gyorgy sandor interview with bruce duffie). At the bottom of page 8 of this handout is an advertisement well worth noting for those of you who are interested in exploring the Bartók archives of folk songs housed in the Hungarian Academy of Sciences Institute for Musicology in Budapest. They can be retrieved by googling Bartok-system online database. I would recommend reading all the sections listed in the advertisement, including of course, “Directions for use”. Bartók’s manuscript replicas on pages 8-9 were reproduced from those archives. (The two stars on page 7 identify the two songs.) Also for your online reading pleasure I recommend Thematic Character Sources and Transformation Techniques in Béla Bartók’s Concerto for Orchestra by Nicolas Benavides. It is an excellent analysis of how folk themes influenced the thematic material in that work. Ron Atar has also written a very pertinent analysis of the Hungarian Peasant Songs, titled Bartók’s Hidden Narrative: The Composer’s Recordings of 15 Hungarian Peasant Songs. I’ve also recently enjoyed a book by Judit Frigyesi, Béla Bartók and Turn-of-the-Century Budapest. It covers much history and sociology--and politics. It also has two extensive chapters on the opera, “Bluebeard’s Castle”. 5