Abstract
In addition to folk music, Zoltán Kodály was interested in folk dance. This is evidenced not only by his writings dedicated to the subject – some relevant ideas are to be found in his publications mainly focused on other topics. In this article, the author collects both Kodály's writings explicitly related to folk dance as well as the “hidden” ideas, presented partly chronologically, partly in thematic groups. Topics include: Kodály's dance experiences, his practical dance knowledge, his work of exploring data of historical dance music, his role in the emergence of Hungarian ethnochoreology as a scholarly discipline, his critical views on the use of folk dance on stage, etc. In contrast to the earlier literature, this article no longer considers the Hungarian shepherds' horn signals as the inspirational sources for Bécsi harangjátek [Viennese Clock], a movement which imitates a musical clock in Kodály's Singspiel Háry János. The movement entitled Branle de village, part of seventeenth-century Austrian composer Johann Heinrich Schmelzer's Partita ex Vienna, contains some bars that bear a close resemblance to the repeated main motif of Kodály's Viennese Clock. It is safe to assume that Branle de village was Kodály's source of inspiration, given that there is evidence that he studied the DTÖ-collection of Schmelzer's works: he referred to this volume where he found a Styrian version of a Székely dance tune.
If one reviews the three retrospective volumes of Kodály's writings edited by Ferenc Bónis, 1 the two volumes of remains published by Lajos Vargyas, 2 and the collection of Kodály's letters edited by Dezső Legány, 3 one will find the terms “folk song,” “folk music” and “dance” (the latter with or without the anterior constituent “folk”) occurring in nearly 4,000 cases, within the composer's writings. Of this amount, the word “dance” accounts for 16 percent which is far less than the occurrences of “folk song” and “folk music,”; nevertheless, it is not negligible, as it represents 648 actual occasions. The fact that dance was of paramount importance to Kodály is already indicated by this minor statistical inquiry.
Galánta is a small Hungarian market-town known to travellers from Vienna to Budapest. The composer has passed seven years of his childhood there. There existed at that time a famous Gipsy-band which has disappeared in the meantime. Their music was the first “orchestral sonority” which came to the ear of the child. The forbears of these Gipsies were known already more than a hundred years ago. About 1800[,] some books of Hungarian dances were published in Vienna, one of which contained music “after several Gipsies from Galantha.” They have preserved the old Hungarian tradition. In order to continue it[,] the composer has taken his principal subjects from these ancient editions.
The composer, too, was subsequently preoccupied with the one-time reputation of the musicians from Galánta, as thirty years later he completed the quotation reproduced above with two items of information originating from the late eighteenth century. One of them comes from an epic poem, dealing with the Mohács Disaster, by Márton Etédi Sós who was of Transylvanian origin. One of the poem's dramatis personae is characterized as follows: “Magyar termetének alig lehet mássa, Galantai Tzigány volt a’ muzsikása” [His Hungarian stature had hardly any equal, his musician was a Gypsy from Galánta].
The other item of information originated from the Kolozsvár-born linguist Sámuel Gyarmathi who wrote: “Semmiféle Mu'sikás ugy a’ verbunkos nótát a’ talp alá nem rakja mint a’ Galantai Tzigányok” [No other musician would play the verbunkos nóta for the dance the way the Gypsies from Galánta do]. 4
Yes, we would encounter dance. But at the time, we did not have the proper mechanical tools to record the dances as well. Then none of us were good dancers, at least not good enough to learn to perform the dances of the village ourselves. Dance entertainments were not the right domain for our work, given that the opportunity to collect folk songs only presented itself in a narrower, more intimate environment. 5
However, we do have information on Kodály's practical dance knowledge. In one of his manuscript autobiographies, he mentions that he went to a dance school, which he stopped attending due to an illness. 6 In a letter he sent to Emma Gruber on September 2, 1906 from Nagyszombat [Trnava, Slovakia] to Budapest, he wrote: “I felt better after having danced until 7 o'clock in the morning than I do now.” 7 In one of his notes from 1951, he lists the experiences he had during his field collections, which determined the atmosphere of his folksong-arrangements. In this list, he mentions that he danced with young women of the Zoborvidék region, in the village of Béd [Bádice, Slovakia]. 8 Bence Szabolcsi wrote about Kodály: “I saw him dancing on one occasion: on an August night, in 1924, he improvised a wonderfully gallant verbunkos at the Cathedral Square in Salzburg – as if he had improvised a scene from Háry János. I was humming the musical accompaniment to the dance, the famous Száz ember verbunkos [One hundred men's recruitment verbunkos] by Boka” 9 (see Example 1). Here Szabolcsi refers to the uncle of the once famous premier violinist Károly Boka, András Boka, who took part in the last insurrection of noblemen in 1809 as the trumpet player of the Szabolcs County cavalry regiment. 10
András Boka, One hundred men's recruitment verbunkos, 1809, mm. 1–8 Based on the collection Magyar zenei ereklyék (Budapest: Rozsnyai, 1915)
Citation: Studia Musicologica 62, 3-4; 10.1556/6.2021.00020
The destitute Székely, struggling in the toughest living conditions, has hardly any tones to express joy. Or at least, his best song is a masterpiece of grief and bitterness. There are, however, “nimble songs,” including the music in the service of the disappearing Székely dances. But the joy is veiled, it is rather the sometimes bursting joie de vivre and humor than the sound of carefree cheerfulness. 11
In terms of the instrumental music, the whole people are listening. Amongst them, the performance is rather a matter for a few.
Whether the musician is a Gypsy or not, he will stand alone or with a few others against the listening crowd. But the members of the crowd are not entirely passive: they do dance to this music and they will be keenly aware if the music is not played in a manner that pleases them.
They are able to control, select, and distinguish better music. In 1910 in Transylvania, a young village Gypsy said: it is the most difficult task to play music for the old Székely people. Young Gypsies do not even know how to play the way they demand anymore.
The ethnographic value of a Gypsy musician resides in what he knows in addition to urban song and dance music. When a Gypsy musician plays the people’s songs, he belongs to our subject. Apart from this, especially in Transylvania, one can hear from Gypsy musicians a lot of dance music of hitherto unknown origin. Although the people dance to it, they are not used to singing or playing this music. Therefore, the only source of this repertoire is the Gypsy musicians. 12
In essence, people living in a village still think purely monophonically today, and at most they feel the need for a primitive bagpipe-like deeper voice in dance music. But even before the war, I could witness that at a wealthy Székely wedding a single Gypsy musician was able to provide the dance music to everyone’s satisfaction. 13
I witnessed back in 1912, when a wealthy Székely farmer hired for his son’s wedding a Gypsy, the only musician in Kászonfeltíz [Plăieșii de Sus, Romania], a village with a population of ten thousand. This one violinist was obliged to play for twenty-four hours, for food and drinks, “shawls,” and five forints. Of course, he could not make a living from it. His main occupation was blacksmithing; even when I was there he was called away from the anvil.
Kodály then added in a note: “Even the most famous fiddler in the Gypsy villages of Bukovina plows his [own] land.” 14
Confronting all these with Kodály's 1951 “Statement” quoted above, in which he did not consider dance entertainments a suitable location for collecting folk songs, we can assume that he did not actually witness the Kászonfeltíz wedding itself, only the musician's hiring. Moreover, we cannot rule out the possibility that there was really a single violinist to serve the wedding in question, although in the light of subsequent research this seems highly unlikely. The percussive gardon was still used in the Kászon region at the time, and every once in a while a small cimbalom might have joined the band as the third instrument. In Transylvania, such a narrative as the following is quite common in the local vernacular communication: “The music for the wedding X. Y. was provided by such-and-such musician,” or “Would you come to make music at my son's wedding?,” etc., where the singular form is not to be taken literally as it involves the entire band, not only the principal violinist who obviously has a prominent role in it. It is possible that it was the same reason that led Kodály to believe that a single violinist was hired only in his presence.
According to Kodály's view, as is well known, Hungarian ethnomusicological research was intertwined with the research on Hungarian music history. Therefore, he was in search of the origin of Hungarian melodies not only by the Eastern linguistic relatives of the Hungarians, but also in the Western direction. Long before the establishment of modern Hungarian ethnochoreological research, Kodály recognized that dance fashions had often spread across Europe like wildfire in the earlier centuries, too. He discovered an analogy of a sixteenth-century volta melody, found in Thoinot Arbeau's Orchésographie published in 1588 in Lengres, in the Hungarian melody Kis kacsa fürdik [Little duck takes a bath] as well as its relative melodies. 15 He used a version of the latter in his Singspiel Háry János, but one can find the same melody in the third volume of Bicinia Hungarica as well. 16
On April 26, 1925, Kodály gave a lecture on old Hungarian dances, in Debrecen, at the wandering meeting organized by the Alumni Association of the Eötvös College. His musical illustrations were partly presented by himself (on the piano) and partly played by three contributors from Debrecen: Ferenc Piribauer and István Jakucs on the violin, as well as Zsigmond Szenes playing the violoncello. The text of the lecture did not appear in print, but on April 28, 1925, both Debreceni Független Ujság [The independent newspaper of Debrecen] and Debrecen reported on the content of Kodály's lecture. 17 The newspaper reports were summarized by Zsolt Molnár. 18 (Two additional sources erroneously date the lecture as having taken place on April 8, 1925.) 19
The verbunkos appears in the development of Hungarian vocal music as an instrumental episode. Occurring around 1790, its first examples follow traditional song and dance motifs in their melodies, and adopt the appearance of Viennese dance forms in their tailoring and modulations. Underneath the instrumental figurations, the contours of the melodic skeleton progressively disappear. Around 1840, the melodic skeleton re-surfaces from the figurations and takes on a vocal form. The instrumental verbunkos will be carried on by the csárdás without a text. However, many csárdás-melodies will still have lyrics. 20
There has been a lot of writing and talking lately about what is briefly but incorrectly called the verbunkos style. But no one has seriously tried to analyze it yet. Sure, one would need to have a bibliography first. We do not have an overview of the material yet … Szabolcsi assiduously collected contemporary statements. But for us to say something, the knowledge of the material is indispensable.
To present the continuity of the historic development will be quite difficult, for not even a single (?) contemporaneous record is extant from the period between 1680 and 1780. 21
In 1951, Kodály rightly blamed the disorder in the musical collections of Hungarian libraries, as well as the absence of cataloging, so he started diving into the material himself. One result of this research was his writing about Lukács Mihálovits’ three Hungarian popular art songs, in which he made, among others, an important observation on ethnochoreological terminology, concerning the dance name lassú magyar [slow Magyar] which would also appear later in the collections from Transylvania: “Hungarian publications and manuscripts very rarely label themselves as Verbunkos. The name Magyar was a designation like Allemande, Anglaise, Française, Polonaise. It is absurd and outrageous to use a foreign name for what is the most Hungarian dance and music.” 22 The custom of this dance-name usage has been preserved in a number of regions from the Transylvanian Plain to Moldavia: magyar (circular dance in the Transylvanian Plain), ritka és sűrű magyar (men's dances in the Transylvanian Plain), magyaros (men's dance, accompanied by couples' dance, in the Közép-Vízmellék region and along the Kis-Küküllő River), lassú és sebes magyaros (a couple of dances from the Gyimes region), serény és öreg magyaros (a couple of dances on the right bank of the Szeret [Romanian: Siret] River, Moldavia). Among the Romanian people of Transylvania, dance names such as ungureşte, ungureascǎ, unguric ǎ, and de ungurime are quite common; moreover, these names can be found beyond the Carpathians, indicating the spreading of the dances containing the [translation of the] word “Hungarian” in their designation. 23
Another result of the archival research conducted by Kodály was the discovery of Eleonóra Zsuzsanna Lányi's manuscript (1729), containing several Hungarian dance melodies of the period, including the instrumental version of the Hungarian folk song Az árgyélus kis madár under the title Saltus hungaricus. Kodály gave a survey of the manuscript in 1951 at the General Assembly of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences. In the introduction, the idea formulated earlier, and quoted above from his manuscript notes, was publicly reiterated: “For an entire century spanning from 1689 until the 1780s, we have no data whatsoever on Hungarian dance music.” 24 Later, Ferenc Bónis and Bence Szabolcsi made Transylvanian folk music collector Pál Péter Domokos aware of Kodály's warning; Domokos thus felt encouraged to search in libraries and manuscript collections for the lost Hungarian music of a century. As a result of this work, eleven collections have surfaced, finally revealing the Hungarian dance music of the eighteenth century. 25
The birth of the “Intermezzo,” known from the Singspiel Háry János Kodály composed between 1925 and 1927, is also due to Kodály's interest in the history of dance music. The original version of the melody comes from István Gáti's piano method, published in 1802 with the title A kótából való klavírozás mestersége [The art of playing the keyboard from the score], where the melody appears, entitled as Magyar, in a two-part setting with the textual incipit Igaz Anya Magyar Haza [True mother, the Hungarian land], preceding the last piece in the publication, Német Presto [German Presto]. Gáti wrote in the foreword of his method: “At the end of this book, I put arias [and] Allegros from some notable and beautiful operas, writing above the more popular ones the names of the composers who created them.” No author is marked above the melody with the title Magyar. 26
Following the attempts to explore the source of Bécsi harangjáték [Viennese Clock] from Háry János offers us a number of interesting dance-related results. Bálint Sárosi, in four of his publications released between 1967 and 1998, connects the signal played on a natural trumpet, collected by Kodály in Bukovina, with the opening motif of Viennese Clock (see Example 2).
Székely trumpet signal from Bukovina, collected by Zoltán Kodály in 1914
Citation: Studia Musicologica 62, 3-4; 10.1556/6.2021.00020
In his series of writings, Sárosi outlined this motivic connection in different ways: “compare the two versions” (1967); “Kodály … used it in Háry János” (1973); “one does not necessarily have to look for a music box melody … we also recognize it in a (natural) trumpet melody, recorded on the phonograph by Kodály from a Székely shepherd in Bukovina” (1982); “[the motif] presumably originates from here” (1998). 27 Lajos Vargyas, too, quoted this Bukovinian signal melody, in 1977, in a slightly different transcription, as a “swineherds' horn-recording,” omitting, however, the data of the collection and noting that “both the signal of the call for battle and the fairytale-like clock-music in Háry János arose from this memory.” 28
János Breuer, the writer of the guide to Kodály (1982) as well as the author of the source catalog of the folk music appearing in Kodály's works (1984), considered Hungarian shepherds' animal inviting-signals to be the source of the opening motif of Viennese Clock. Breuer did not refer explicitly to the melody quoted several times by Sárosi, but he probably thought of it, given that he also wrote: “a swineherds' horn- (or trumpet folk-) signal, collected by Kodály, is the source of the rondo theme, based on arpeggiated triads.” 29 The authors of the source catalog, on the other hand, defined the range of possible sources more broadly: “The folk musical inspiration of Viennese Clock consists in the motivic supply from the several dozens of animal inviting-signals collected by Kodály.” 30 In his review of the source catalog, musicologist Ferenc László questioned the idea that the source of Viennese Clock should be looked for in the animal invitation signals; however, he did not suggest any other sources. 31
In her works, Lujza Tari, too, referred to the Bukovinian Székely signal melody published on a number of occasions by Sárosi, noting that “its music is unfortunately not extant.” She presented a signal, played on F-trumpet, named régi kihajtó (old [signal] to drive [animals] out), and also collected by Kodály in the village of Felsőrás, Gömör County, whose “bérekesztő” (closing section) was, according to her, “one of those [melodies] that may have inspired the Viennese Clock movement of Háry János.” She added that Kodály may have been familiar with the call sign of the 19th k. u. k. Infantry Regiment, formed of Hungarian soldiers in the Army of the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy, a call sign developed from a motif taken from Wagner's Rheingold. 32
Back to the source catalog: footnote 32 of the relevant passage quoted above claims that, according to data obtained from the favor of Peter Widensky, “the theme of Viennese Clock is highly reminiscent of Gregor Schreyer's Pastorella,” but the catalog does not contain its music. I did look up this eighteenth-century Pastorella, and I can confirm that the resemblance really is quite obvious (cf. Examples 3).
Gregor Schreyer (1719–1767), Pastorella (fragment), quoted from Pastoralmusik bayerischer Komponisten des 18. Jahrhunderts für Orgel, hrsg. von Otto BIBA (= Süddeutsche Weihnachtsmusik, Bd. 13) (Altötting: A. Coppenrath, 1980)
Citation: Studia Musicologica 62, 3-4; 10.1556/6.2021.00020
It is worth mentioning that the closing motif points in a different direction, namely to the melody of the Székely men's dance csűrdöngölő. Of course, to some extent, the basic motif of the csűrdöngölő itself is related to the opening motif of Viennese Clock. Already Zoltán Kodály saw a similarity between the best-known melodic motif of the Székely csűrdöngölő and “Gavotta styriaca,” the work of the seventeenth-century Austrian composer Johann Heinrich Schmelzer, assuming on the basis of the “characteristically yodel-like motif of the descending sixth,” that the csűrdöngölő melody may have originated from a real Styrian folk song. 33
In fact, “Gavotta styriaca” is only one movement of a multi-part piece which appears in the collection cited by Kodály as No. 14. Balletti à 4 (Pastorella). According to the editor, Paul Nettl, it was probably composed by Johann Heinrich Schmelzer. Kodály's assumption on the movement's origin in folk music, or at least the intention to imitate the sound of folk music, is supported by the fact that in measures 12–13 of “Gavotta gallica,” another movement of the same cycle, the part-writing of the voice carrying the melody is reminiscent of bagpipe music. In the case of the movement entitled “Pastorella,” the bucolic character of the music is emphasized by the pedal point (basse de musette), spanning from the beginning to the end of the movement, heard under the melody and two inner voices respectively. “Yodel-like motifs” occur in further movements of the same cycle as well (“Intrada,” “Pastorella,” “Hötzer seu Amener,” and “Gavotta bavarica”), including one motif of the “Intrada” (i.e. the closing motif in measures 4–5 and 11–12) which is related to the opening motif of Viennese Clock in Kodály's Háry János. 34
In his descriptive study about the collection, Nettl explains that folk music was not preferred at the imperial court during Schmelzer's time; however, its presence was tolerated. Features of the alpine dialect included the imitation of natural wind instruments and the yodeling of the inhabitants of the Alps. The actual folk music was not notated at the time, it only survived in arrangements and folk music imitations such as Schmelzer's pertinent compositions. 35 The same characteristics are also exhibited in Partita ex Vienna, published in the appendix to the volume, which originates from the 1681 manuscript tablature book preserved at the Leipzig University Library. In its first movement, entitled “Branle de village,” a motif-based fanfare-like segment can be heard, which shows a closer resemblance with the opening motif of Viennese Clock; moreover, this motif is being repeated (Examples 4). 36
The putative source of Viennese Clock in Kodály's Háry János – a fragment from Branle de village (Partita ex Vienna, 1681)
Citation: Studia Musicologica 62, 3-4; 10.1556/6.2021.00020
We do not know whether Kodály was familiar with Schreyer's Pastorella. On the other hand, we do know that he perused and referred to the collection containing Partita ex Vienna, and in it he could have seen the “Branle de village.” Therefore, there is a high probability that the idea of the opening motif for Viennese Clock came from this source. If Kodály had not known this collection (or some other collections from the same period), his decision to evoke the atmosphere of the music clock operating at the Burg of Vienna by using Hungarian shepherds' signals would have been a lot less likely. The fact that similar motifs also appear in these signals may stem from the endowments of the natural trumpet, but also from the circumstance that villagers, including shepherds, used to serve in the k. u. k. Army where they had the opportunity to learn similar military signals. The shepherds' signals quoted above are also related to the opening motif of the Kodály movement; on the other hand, the one in the “Branle de village” does exhibit a closer similarity.
This is how Slovak, Cossack, Turkish, and Romanian songs bear a likeness to the Hungarian songs. It is possible to dance the Cossack and Slovak dances to many Hungarian songs, and Hungarian dances can also be performed to some of the Slovak songs. But one cannot fully do a Hungarian dance to a German song, or a German dance to a Hungarian tune. 37
One of the most compelling examples of this phenomenon is the melodic type Kodály chose as the main theme of his Dances of Marosszék, given that it can be found, in various rhythmic disguises, in the accompanying music of virtually every Romanian and Hungarian dance type in Transylvania. Of course, at the time of the composition, Kodály could not have had an overall picture of this wide circle of melodic kinship. The melody named marosszéki [from Marosszék] that he collected in the Gyergyó region [Gheorgheni, Romania] has a base pulsation of quavers (eighth notes), according to the rhythmic features of the dance with the same name. But this rhythm was expanded by Kodály, in accordance with the Hungarian slow verbunkos, and he built this augmented form of the tune into his composition. Much later after Kodály's composition, a number of folk versions of the same melody were collected that have quarters as the base pulsation, like the main theme of Kodály's Dances of Marosszék. 38
Kodály gave the impetus, which resulted in spectacular outputs similar to the case of Pál Péter Domokos, to other persons as well. In 1940, László Lajtha planned on a collection trip to Transylvania, and he was uncertain about the actual destination. Kodály recommended that he visit Szék [Sic, Romania], in the vicinity of Szamosújvár [Gherla, Romania], based on some pieces of embroidery from that region he had seen shortly before, assuming that a place where such a beautiful folk art existed must have a song culture, too. 39 The collection made by Lajtha validated Kodály's views, not only from a musical perspective but also in terms of dance. The Szék dance culture became the catalyst that led to the emergence of urban dance houses, and then, as a consequence, fueled the renewal of staged folk dances from the 1970s in Hungary. 40
I envision the proper form of folk dance collecting with a group consisting of composers, dance researchers, folklorists, and filmmakers going out to the villages, collecting the related dance tunes and dances, and recording all these on sound film takes.
In response to the reporter's question, Kodály also said that the work of unqualified collectors can only be useful if they collaborate with qualified scholarly researchers. 41
In 1956 Kodály noticed a young generation of folk dance researchers at the outset of their careers: back then György Martin, Ernő Pesovár, and Ágoston Lányi worked not yet in a scholarly research facility, but in very difficult conditions at the Népművészeti Intézet (Institute of Folk Art), also known as Népművelési Intézet (Institute for the People's Education), which was the organization in charge of the amateur folk dance movement. Kodály's interest in their work, according to the memories of Lajos Vargyas, began with their report on their research to date, held at the Ethnographic Society where Kodály “not only listened – very carefully – to their presentation report, but then asked the two dance experts [György Martin and Ernő Pesovár] questions.” Vargyas also remembered that Kodály “appeared, even after his first heart attack, at a lecture held by Martin where he had summarized experiences of great importance for folk music [research] on the rhythmic structure of the botoló [stick dance]. This is an archaic weapon dance in which Martin was still able to detect traces of the Proportz/after-dance technique of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.” In the same text, Vargyas also refers to the fact that the descriptions of the wedding dances in volume III/B of the series Corpus Musicae Popularis Hungaricae were prepared thanks to Kodály's influence. 42
During the 1960s, Transylvania was one of the main collection areas of Martin and his colleagues. The informants – musicians, singers, dancers – they met there regularly visited them during their stay in Budapest, and Martin usually took them to the Folk Music Research Group of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences where they presented their knowledge. On these occasions, Kodály, too, was always there. On one occasion Martin brought guests from the Gyimes region, including Mrs Péter Antal, the mother of the blind peasant violinist Antal Zoltán (nicknamed as “Finánc Zolti” [Zolti, the exciseman], or “Vak Zolti” [Blind Zolti]). During their collection trips in the Gyimes region, researchers had never been able to make her dance. However, on that particular occasion, at Kodály's request, she performed the lassú magyaros dance from Gyimes, accompanied by her son.
Kodály became aware that the achievements of Hungarian folk music research needed to be complemented with the results of dance research; therefore, he mobilized the full weight of his prestige and, when it was necessary, his own financial resources as well, to eliminate this shortage. He also wanted Hungarian dance researchers to be included into the international scholarly circulation from the very beginning. He took György Martin and Ernő Pesovár for the first time in 1963 to the congress of the International Folk Music Council, but with the proviso that they illustrate with their own dancing whatever they had to say. As Martin and Pesovár also used silent film for the purpose of illustration, Kodály called them to account for the lack of sound film. Then it was explained to him: it was so expensive that their institute could not afford to fund it. In response, Kodály soon acquired a sound film recorder, using his connections at UNESCO. This way it had been possible since 1965, i.e. well before the age of videography, to make sound film recordings of the most outstanding representatives of the generation of Hungarian peasant dancers born at the beginning of the twentieth century.
In the same year, 1965, the Institute for the People's Education, the employer of Martin and his colleagues, terminated the folk dance research work established within its own framework. Although Gyula Ortutay wanted to integrate folk dance research into the Ethnology Research Group of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences, Kodály succeeded in placing Martin and his colleagues at the Folk Music Research Group of the Academy, thus ensuring the institutional Hungarian folk dance research both its unbroken continuity to date and its close connection to folk music research.
It was also in 1965 that the Emperor of Ethiopia turned for help to the Hungarian Academy of Sciences to lay the foundations of folk music and folk dance research in his country. Kodály sent György Martin, in addition to Bálint Sárosi, on a six-week study trip to Ethiopia (see Plate 1). By doing so, he contributed to the considerable expansion of the Hungarian researchers' international perspective; on the other hand, the archives of the institution could be enriched with valuable sound and film recordings, and with photographs.
Bálint Sárosi collecting in Ethiopia, 1965 (Photograph by György Martin, Archives of the RCH Institute for Musicology, Budapest)
Citation: Studia Musicologica 62, 3-4; 10.1556/6.2021.00020
On another occasion, Hungarians from Australia turned to Kodály for the acquisition of Hungarian dance books and dance films, given that the Hungarian authorities had left their officially filed request unanswered. Kodály paid for the purchase of the books as well as the preparation of the film copies himself. 43
In 1966, the congress of the International Folk Music Council was held in Ghana. At the time Kodály was the president of the IFMC. The Hungarian Academy of Sciences made financially possible the participation of a sole Hungarian researcher, but Kodály insisted on having a dance researcher sent there, in addition to a music folklorist, and to that end he transferred the required amount from his own royalties, paid into his hard currency account. György Martin only learned long after Kodály's death that it was not the Academy of Sciences who covered the expenses of his travel and stay in Ghana. 44
Any kind of movement, beginning with the simple walking, is deeply characteristic of the individual and, consequently, of the nation as well. Our folk dance is a varied and eloquent expression of our national character. Yet, a higher Hungarian style did not develop in the dance. Our professional dancers on the Opera stage predominantly performed foreign dances, and they did not know the folk tradition of Hungarian dance at all. Hungarian dance was a stage requisite, provided by a series of shabby clichés.
Recently, Hungarian dance has been looked after a bit better. But a few bus trips to the village of the Opera’s corps de ballet, or their visits to the [events of the] Gyöngyösbokréta [folk movement], no matter how diligent, will not solve the problem. There can be no Hungarian dance culture until there are no dancers living in Hungarian culture in the first place, and who, by embracing and experiencing the Hungarian dance tradition, are able to develop this culture to be suitable for higher tasks. And this process cannot have an echo coming from society, unless society itself no longer embraces the Hungarian dances. One hundred years ago, the csárdás was taken from the villages to the aristocratic palaces. But foreign dances still prevail in the ballrooms today; Hungarian dance appears only by exception, as the showpiece of specially prepared groups, or even professional dancers. Most people just look at it. 45
The basis of Hungarian ballroom dances has been more or less in place since 1830; it was only pushed into the background during the last thirty or forty years. It was at that time that itinerant dancing-masters began to invade the country. They informed even the peasants of the villages about the fashionable dances of foreign origin. I have not been to a ball myself in fifty years [cf. Plate 2], but all I know is that Hungarian ballroom dance has somehow stalled, it has become an act, so we must do something to help with this situation. From this point of view, it is indeed a good initiative to organize Hungarian dance presentations. But it would be more important and more effective if children were regularly taught the elements of Hungarian dance from an early age … Moreover! One could already start dance education in the kindergarten. The Székelys, for instance, put their children to dance at the age of five or six. Thus, we could really make dance, together with the folk song, become our blood, our mother tongue. 46
Kodály and his wife Sarolta Péczely at a wedding in Csomád, 1966 (Kodály Archives, Budapest)
Citation: Studia Musicologica 62, 3-4; 10.1556/6.2021.00020
In his third paper, held in English at the Royal Conservatory of Toronto on July 14, 1966, Kodály formulated the same idea as follows: “At places where people were especially fond of dances, e.g. in Transylvania, we could observe how five-year-old boys were initiated by the adults to the secrets of men's dances.” 47
No specifically Hungarian characteristic has yet developed in our artistic dance, i.e. in our ballet, as our dancers are too closely bound by the international formal elements of their technique. Although there are encouraging developments, I think we have to wait until a genuine dance creator of great talent is born, who will be able to shape folk dance into an artistic unity of a higher degree. I am convinced that the future will bring this creative artist as well. 48
In the same interview, he also noted, in connection with the dance accompaniment music written for stage purposes: “composers should strive to write works at least as good as the original peasant dance music.” 49
Did the folk ensembles run out of Hungarian dance variants? Why don’t they turn to our dance researchers for advice? They focus their efforts so much on the dances of Gypsies and other peoples. Therefore, they reinforce abroad the belief that “Hungarian Equals Gypsy.” The cult of Gypsy songs at the Radio also contributes to this. Especially when Gypsy songs are mixed with Hungarian songs and not sung in [a] Gypsy language, but in Hungarian: in these cases, there are no clues left to indicate what the difference is, and thus, the Gypsy folk character is obscured as well. 50
They look for all sorts of new ways of expression in dance. I do not think they are on the right track because what they do is neither ballet nor folk dance anymore, it sways somewhere in between. This was also written in a New York review when they appeared on stage here. The impresarios committed the mistake to have them featured under the name “Hungarian Ballet.” They were told that what they did was not ballet, so they should not have bragged with a label without content. There, too, the leadership is changing. At the moment, with Miklós Rábai, the dance is in the forefront. For him, the dance is the most important thing, anything else is incidental. 51
[Questioner No. 12: We have a small Hungarian folk dance ensemble. Do we need legal permission if we want to perform dances that are related to your works – like the Kálló Double Dance, for instance?]
You do not need anything. The law only applies to the score. Choreography is only copyrighted if someone agrees to be the author. Just as Rábai did a choreography for the Kálló Double Dance. However, that is not mandatory, it is only a single choreography. You can join anything to the music. It may be even better than Rábai’s version. 52
the People’s Ensemble for its all the more serious sin, that the ensemble was warned in due time about the mistake, however, chose not to be at the least concerned and carried on distributing the bad tune throughout the country (moreover, worldwide! People even learned it in China), thus by way of its prestige as a state institution it made insecure even those who knew the melody well. 53
As it would be quite inappropriate for a state ensemble to propagate spoiled melodies, hereby I send the correct melody of üvegtánc [bottle dance]. What you sing is like someone sticking the head between the legs: the high-register part of the melody was slammed an octave lower. 54
When our poets left the Hungarian form of poetry, many Hungarians preferred to dance the Waltz and then the Boston, instead of the Hungarian dance. Nowadays, the fashionable dances originating from jazz music have taken the place of Walzer et al. One rarely finds middle-class Hungarians for whom Hungarian dance would be a natural expression. 55
Thus, we can deduce from Kodály's statement that, had he had the opportunity to experience the advent of Hungarian folk dance as a ballroom dance in the cities, that is, if he could have seen the dance house movement unfold, he would have certainly felt overwhelmed with joy. However, his critical approach would certainly not spare the abundantly growing misconceptions of the dance house movement.
Translated by István Csaba NÉMETH
Zoltán KODÁLY, Visszatekintés [In retrospect], ed. by Ferenc BÓNIS, vols. 1–2: Összegyűjtött írások, beszédek, nyilatkozatok [Selected writings, speeches, statements] (Budapest, Zeneműkiadó, 1/1964), partial English translation: The Selected Writings of Zoltán Kodály (Budapest: Corvina, 1974); vol. 3: Hátrahagyott írások, beszédek, nyilatkozatok [In retrospect. Posthumous writings, speeches, statements] (Budapest, Zeneműkiadó, 1/1989), latest edition of the entire series: Budapest: Argumentum, 2007 (= Magyar Zenetudomány, vols. 5−7). Hereafter referred to as: Visszatekintés, vol. 1, 2 or 3.
Zoltán KODÁLY, Közélet, vallomások, zeneélet [Public life, confessions, musical life], sel. and ed. by Lajos VARGYAS, (Budapest: Szépirodalmi Könyvkiadó, 1989) (= Kodály Zoltán hátrahagyott írásai [Zoltán Kodály's posthumous writings], vol. [1]); id., Magyar zene, magyar nyelv, magyar vers [Hungarian music, language, poetry], sel. and ed. by Lajos VARGYAS, (Budapest: Szépirodalmi Könyvkiadó, 1993) (= Kodály Zoltán hátrahagyott írásai [Zoltán Kodály's posthumous writings], vol. [2]). Hereafter referred to as: Hátrahagyott, vol. 1 or 2.
Kodály Zoltán levelei [Zoltán Kodály's letters], ed. by Dezső LEGÁNY (Budapest: Zeneműkiadó, 1982).
Zoltán KODÁLY, Dances of Galánta [Preface to the score] (Vienna: Universal Edition, 1934). Plate number U.E. 10.688 W.Ph.V. 275, p. 1. The Hungarian version of the same preface was later re-published under the title “Galántai táncok. Előszó a partitúrához (1934, 1964),” Visszatekintés, vol. 2, 493. The same text, in a slightly different wording, can also be found in idem: “Gal[ántai] táncok,” Hátrahagyott, vol. 1, 198, and idem: “A Galántai táncok bemutatója elé” [Before the first performance of the Dances of Galanta], Visszatekintés, vol. 3, 706. Cf. the editor's notes on page 744.
Zoltán KODÁLY, “A magyar tánc kérdéseiről. Nyilatkozat” [On the issues of Hungarian dance. A statement] (1951), in Visszatekintés, vol. 3, 388.
Zoltán KODÁLY, “Autobiog[ráfia],” in Hátrahagyott, vol. 1, 182.
Kodály Zoltán levelei [Zoltán Kodály's letters], ed. by Dezső LEGÁNY, 21.
Zoltán KODÁLY, “Népdalfeldolg[ozás]” [Folksong-arrangement], in Hátrahagyott, vol. 2, 63.
Bence SZABOLCSI, Úton Kodályhoz [On the way to Kodály] (Budapest: Zeneműkiadó, 1972), 58.
Bálint SÁROSI, Cigányzene [Gypsy music] (Budapest: Gondolat, 1971), 111 and 124.
Zoltán KODÁLY, “A székely népdalról” [On the Székely folk song] (1919), in Visszatekintés, vol. 1, 19.
Zoltán KODÁLY, “Zene” [Music] (1937), in A magyarság néprajza [Ethnography of the Hungarians] vol. 4: A szellemi néprajz második fele [Spiritual ethnography. Part 2], ed. by Károly VISKI (Budapest: Kiralyi Magyar Egyetemi Nyomda, 2/1937), 61–62.
Zoltán KODÁLY, “Néprajz és zenetörténet. Előadás” [Ethnography and music history. A lecture] (1933), in Visszatekintés, vol. 2, 228.
Zoltán KODÁLY, “Zene,” 62 and 80.
Ibid., 57.
János BERECZKY, Mária DOMOKOS, Imre OLSVAI, Katalin PAKSA and Olga SZALAY, Kodály népdalfeldolgozásainak dallam- és szövegforrásai [Melodic and textual sources of Kodály's folk song transcriptions] (Budapest: Zeneműkiadó, 1984), 61 and 256.
János BARTÓK, “Kodály Zoltán irodalmi munkássága” [The literary work of Zoltán Kodály], in Emlékkönyv Kodály Zoltán hatvanadik születésnapjára [Memorial book for the sixtieth birthday of Zoltán Kodály], ed. by Béla GUNDA (Budapest: Magyar Néprajzi Társaság, 1943), 364.
Zsolt MOLNÁR, “Kodály és Debrecen,” Debreceni Szemle 16/3 (2008), 351–352.
Szilveszter E. VIZI, “Köszöntő” [Salute], Debreceni Szemle 16/3 (2008), 335; Kodály Zoltán és Debrecen (virtuális kiállítás) [Zoltán Kodály and Debrecen (virtual exhibition)], also accessible online under <http://www.dbvk.hu/kodaly/html/kodaly_es_debrecen.html> (accessed on February 9, 2022).
Zoltán KODÁLY, “M[agyar]ságtud[omány]” [Hungarian studies], in Hátrahagyott, vol. 2, 107.
Zoltán KODÁLY, “Mihálov[its] Lukács elemzése” [Analysis of Lukács Mihálovits], in Hátrahagyott, vol. 2, 136.
Zoltán KODÁLY, “Mihálovits Lukács három magyar nótája” [Three Hungarian popular art songs by Lukács Mihálovits], in Visszatekintés, vol. 2, 273.
Gheorghe T. NICULESCU-VARONE and Elena Costache GǍINARIU-VARONE, Dicționarul jocurilor populare româneşti [Dictionary of Romanian folk dances] (Bucureşti: Editura Litera, 1979).
Zoltán KODÁLY, “Magyar táncok 1729-ből” [Hungarian dances from 1729], in Visszatekintés, vol. 2, 274–275.
Pál Péter DOMOKOS, Hangszeres magyar tánczene a XVIII. században [Instrumental dance music in Hungary in the eighteenth century] (Budapest: Akadémiai Kiadó, 1978); id., Az én Erdélyem. Domokos Pál Péter elmondja életét Balogh Júliának [My Transylvania. Pál Péter Domokos telling Júlia Balogh about his life] (Budapest: Vita Kiadó, 1988), 79.
A kótából való klavírozás mestersége, mellyet készített az abban gyönyörködők kedvéért Gáti István [The art of playing the keyboard from score, made for the sake of those who take delight in it by István Gáti. Buda, with the types of the Royal University] (Buda: Királyi Universitás, 1802), 13 and 106–107.
Bálint SÁROSI, Die Volkmusikinstrumente Ungarns (Leipzig: VEB Deutscher Verlag für Musik, 1967), 104; id., Magyar népi hangszerek [Hungarian folk instruments] (Budapest: Tankönyvkiadó, 1973), 71; id., “Hangszeres népzene Kodály műveiben: a Galántai és a Marosszéki táncok” [Instrumental folk music in Kodály's works: Dances of Galánta and Dances of Marosszék], Ethnographia 43/4 (1982), 514–515; id., Hangszerek a magyar néphagyományban [Musical instruments in the Hungarian folk tradition] (Budapest: Planétás Kiadó, 1998), 125.
Lajos VARGYAS, “A népzenekutatás eredményeinek hatása Kodály alkotásaiban” [The effect of the ethnomusicological research results in Kodály's compositions], in Magyar zenetörténeti tanulmányok Kodály Zoltán emlékére [Studies of Hungarian music history in memoriam Zoltán Kodály], ed. by Ferenc BÓNIS (Budapest: Zeneműkiadó, 1977), 239–240.
János BREUER, Kodály-kalauz [A guide to Kodály] (Budapest: Zeneműkiadó, 1982), 141.
BERECZKY et alii, Kodály népdalfeldolgozásainak dallam- és szövegforrásai, 50–51.
Ferenc LÁSZLÓ, “Bereczky János–Domokos Mária–Olsvai Imre–Paksa Katalin–Szalay Olga: Kodály népdalfeldolgozásainak dallam- és szövegforrásai,” Muzsika 28/8 (August 1985), 44.
Lujza TARI, “Népi fúvóshangszer-hatások Kodály Zoltán műveiben” [Folk wind instrument effects in the works of Zoltán Kodály], in Népzenei tanulmányok [Studies in folk music], ed. by Ferenc POZSONY (Kolozsvár: Kriza János Néprajzi Társaság, 1999), 96–97; id., Kodály Zoltán a hangszeres népzene kutatója [Zoltán Kodály, researcher of instrumental folk music] (Budapest: Balassi Kiadó, 2001), 205–206 and 265. Zoltán BARCZY and Pál KARCH, Hangászok–hangszerek–hangjegyek: Trombita- és dobjelek az osztrák-magyar hadseregben és a haditengerészetnél (1629–1918) [Musicians – musical instruments – musical notes: Trumpet and drum signals in the Austro-Hungarian Army and Navy (1629–1918)] (= Műhelytanulmányok a magyar zenetörténethez [Preparatory studies for Hungarian music history], vol. 6) (Budapest: Zenetudományi Intézet, 1985).
Zoltán KODÁLY, “Zene,” 68–69; id., “A magyar népzene” [Hungarian folk music] (1943), in Visszatekintés, vol. 3, 368.
Anhang A: “Partita ex Vienna,” Anhang B: “Zwei deutsche Lieder von J. H. Schmelzer,” in Johann Heinrich SCHMELZER, Johann Joseph HOFFER and Alessandro POGLIETTI, Wiener Tanzmusik in der zweiten Hälfte des 17. Jahrhunderts, ed. by Paul NETTL (= Denkmäler der Tonkunst in Österreich, Bd. 56), (Wien: Universal Edition / Leipzig: Breitkopf & Härtel, 1921), 56–59.
Paul NETTL, “Die Wiener Tanzkomposition in der zweiten Hälfte des siebzehnten Jahrhunderts,” Studien zur Musikwissenschaft 8 (Wien: Gesellschaft zur Herausgabe von Denkmälern der Tonkunst in Österreich, 1921), 140–141.
NETTL (ed.), Wiener Tanzmusik, 69 and 77.
KODÁLY, A magyar népzene, 367 and 640; GÁTI, A kótából való klavírozás, 49–50.
István PÁVAI, “A Marosszéki táncok főtémájának folklórkapcsolatai” [Folklore relations of the main theme in the Dances of Marosszék], in Utunk Kodályhoz. Tanulmányok, emlékezések [On our way to Kodály. Studies and recollections], ed. by Ferenc LÁSZLÓ (Bukarest: Kriterion, 1984), 6, 12, and music example 29. Since the publication of this analysis, I managed to increase the amount of melodic variants for the main theme in Kodály's Dances of Marosszék.
László LAJTHA, “Újra megtalált magyar népdaltípus” [A rediscovered Hungarian folk song type], in Emlékkönyv Kodály Zoltán hatvanadik születésnapjára [Kodály: honoring his sixtieth birthday], ed. by Béla GUNDA (Budapest: Magyar Néprajzi Társaság, 1943), 219.
György MARTIN, “A széki tánchagyományok felfedezése és szerepe a magyar folklorizmusban” [The discovery of Székely dance traditions and their role in Hungarian folklorism], Ethnographia 93/1 (1982), 73–78.
István SZENTHEGYI, “Kodály Zoltán a magyar tánc kérdéseiről” [Zoltán Kodály on issues of Hungarian dance], Táncművészet (September 1951), 11–12, re-published as Zoltán KODÁLY, “A magyar tánc kérdéseiről” [On issues concerning Hungarian Dance], in Visszatekintés, vol. 3, 388.
Lajos VARGYAS, Kerítésen kívül. Emlékek életemből [Outside the fence. Memories of my life] (Budapest: Szépirodalmi Könyvkiadó, 1993), 354; Olga SZENTPÁL, “A táncok rendje” [Sequence of dances], in A Magyar Népzene Tára/Corpus Musicae Popularis Hungaricae, vol. III/B, ed. by Lajos KISS (Budapest: Akadémiai Kiadó, 1956), 417–660.
György MARTIN, “Emlékeim Kodályról” [My memories of Kodály], in Zenetudományi Dolgozatok [Studies in musicology], ed. by Melinda BERLÁSZ and Mária DOMOKOS (Budapest: MTA Zenetudományi Intézet, 1984), 185–191.
Kodály Zoltán levelei [Zoltán Kodály letters], ed. by Dezső LEGÁNY, 431.
Zoltán KODÁLY, “Magyarság a zenében” [Hungarianness in music, 1939], in Visszatekintés, vol. 2, 253.
István SZENTHEGYI, “Kodály Zoltán a magyar tánc kérdéseiről,” re-published as Zoltán KODÁLY, “A magyar tánc kérdéseiről,” 389.
Zoltán KODÁLY, “Folk Song in Pedagogy,” Paper read at the Royal Conservatory of Toronto, July 14, 1966, in Zoltán Kodály in North America, ed. by Richard JOHNSTON (Willowdale, Ontario: Kodály Institute of Canada, The Avondale Press, 1986), 60.
Zoltán KODÁLY, “A magyar tánc kérdéseiről,” 388.
Ibid., 389.
Zoltán KODÁLY, “Bartók nyomában” [In the footsteps of Bartók], in Hátrahagyott, vol. 2, 59.
Zoltán KODÁLY, “A Corvin Magyar Clubban. Előadás és vita Berkeleyben” [At the Corvin Hungarian Club. Presentation and discussion in Berkeley], in Visszatekintés, vol. 3, 186.
Ibid., 190.
Zoltán KODÁLY, “Az Állami Népi Együttes romlott népdalt terjeszt” [The Hungarian State Folk Ensemble disseminating a spoiled folk song], Visszatekintés, vol. 1, 267.
Kodály's letter of June 26, 1951. Kodály Zoltán levelei [Zoltán Kodály letters], ed. by Dezső LEGÁNY, 203.
Zoltán KODÁLY, “Elég a jambusból” [Enough of the iamb], in Hátrahagyott, vol. 2, 341.
