László Gyõri
Coming to Terms
[...]
During his years in Switzerland he mainly gave piano lessons. He was
not able to conduct, couldn't build up his reputation. As to the grounds
on which the director of the Royal Opera House turned him down, it is difficult
now to throw light on the subject. We don't know whether Pál Komáromy
was aware of the fact that in 1937 Toscanini took on the young coach as
his assistant in Salzburg and that Dobrowen borrowed him to help with his
own Figaro production in Oslo. But we can presume that he knew this, as
he must have known about the superlative press Solti had received for his
conducting in Budapest. We do not know whether personal dislike lay behind
the rejection--which we only know about from Sir Georg Solti's statements--or
possible intrigue, or was it genuinely a case of no vacancy for the position
of conductor.
[...]
The frustrating experiences, however, affected his relationship with
Hungary for long decades. "Those two blows were enough. You can understand,
can't you. I came to Hungary fifteen years ago and they introduced me on
television as a British conductor. So I don't feel like a Hungarian. What
still touches my heart as far as this country is concerned is the Academy
of Music. That's why I've come back again... What I do hope is that Hun
gary can finally link up with the West now. Believe me, it's the only way,"
he said in his last television interview in Hungary in June 1997.
On the other hand, twelve years before, in a profile by Marianne Gách
in the Budapest journal Film, Színház, Muzsika, he claims
that "Wherever I live, I'm still Hungarian." In all his statements
to the press these two contradictory claims recur.
[...]
Sir Georg Solti's acquaintance with the Budapest Festival Orchestra
brought a sea change in his relationship with Hungarian musical life. Tamás
Körner, Executive Director of the orchestra, recalls that time: "When
it was first suggested that the Festival Orchestra might operate as the
permanent orchestra of the capital, Iván Fischer, Musical Director,
wrote to Sir Georg Solti asking him to put in a good word and help convince
the Budapest authorities that they needed the orchestra. Sir Georg sent
an open letter to the city fathers, asking them to consent to making the
orchestra permanent. From 1992 on, when the orchestra was officially founded,
we were in constant contact with him about possibilities for collaboration.
Before agreeing, Sir Georg wanted to consider whether the conditions were
right for the planned programme and if they met with his demands. In May
1993 the first meeting took place--without any obligations--at a rehearsal.
Sir Georg Solti "sampled" the Festival Orchestra during his stay,
but he worked with other orchestras too. Only after these soundings did
he accept his first work with us. We gave our first concert together on
May 8 1995 in Budapest. Sir Georg was so pleased that our collaboration
had succeeded at the right level that it was he who proposed we should
go on a West European tour. In May we gave concerts in Italy and Switzerland,
then in June we set out on another tour to Spain and various musical centres
in Italy. We held ten concerts in two months and it was on the second tour
that Solti first came up with the idea of making a recording to-gether.
He wanted to record Bartók's orchestral works. By that time we had
signed a contract with Philips, which included the recording of all Bartók's
orchestral works. After lengthy discussions the decision was made that
Solti would make with us and the Hungarian Radio Chorus the Hungarian disc
of a three-disc album, which should have been released on his 85th birthday,
with Bartók's Cantata Profana, Kodály's Psal mus Hungaricus
and the F Minor Serenade, op.3, by Leó Weiner, whom he always mentioned
as his master teacher and main influence at the Liszt Academy of Music.
Fortunately, the recording was completed on the maestro's last visit
in June l997. We are going to perform the same programme next March--in
his memory. It's sad, but at the same time wonderful, that he made the
last recording of his life here in Budapest--with a Hungarian orchestra
and chorus.
A part of the story of Sir Georg's relationship with the orchestra
is that after our successful Budapest concert and two tours together we
asked him to be our conductor emeritus. He said yes immediately... He was
very pleased that a Hungarian orchestra was so keen to work with him. This
also gave him the opportunity to reconsider his love-hate relationship
with Hungary. Even if it came at the very last moment, this was a genuine
reconciliation. He could demonstrate his love for his country, but didn't
have to give up his principles. He could feel he was Hungarian again, he
could work here again, but he remained his old self with all the loyalty
he felt towards England. We who had the chance to meet him could feel this
strange ambiguity, but--fortunately for uswas through the Festival Orchestra
that he wanted to show the world that he was ready, willing and able to
do something for Hungarian musical life... I have in my possession an unpublished
letter which he sent to the Budapest municipal authorities shortly before
he died. In it he asked for help in improving the orchestra's financial
situation. When he learnt about our worrying financial problems, he asked
if there was anything he could do for us."
During his last recording he worked with the Hungarian Radio Chorus
which he considered an outstanding chorus. Sir Georg Solti had given his
first concert with them in Berlin in February 1997. Kálmán
Strausz, the Chorusmaster recalls the contradiction he noticed between
Sir Georg Solti's public statements and his personal behaviour.
"At our first rehearsal Sir Georg Solti apologized for his rusty
Hungarian. After all since 1945 he had rarely had the chance to instruct
musicians in his mother tongue. It was typical of him that within ten minutes
he was only speaking Hungarian. The situation was comical. The most natural
language for him at rehearsals was German but then and there a Hungarian
member of the Berlin Philharmonic translated Solti's instructions into
German. His gestures were paternal and collegial. Solti, who appeared so
much in public, didn't show his true feelings, he didn't let anyone get
close to him. He had a reputation for bashing musicians, but he didn't
show anything of that during those rehearsals and concerts. He was surprisingly
well-informed on Hun garian culture. He probably kept abreast of cultural
developments here on the quiet. And though I said just now that he didn't
show his feelings, he was very moved when he chanced to come across Hungarian
culture. In Berlin we gave him a copy of the Bartók anniversary
CD-ROM, an overall documentation of the composer's life and work, released
by Hungarian Radio. He received it with genuine enthusiasm, saying that
he had heard about it and had been wanting to get hold of it for a long
time. 'And I've got a computer for it,' he said. During the recording sessions
in June we invited him over from the nearby Italian Institute, where we
were working, to the Marble Concert Hall of Hungarian Radio. For his coming
birthday we bought him the facsimile edition of Kodály's Psalmus
Hun garicus. He insisted that every member of the chorus write his name
on it. He was obviously moved too as he listened to Kodály's choral
work 'To Ferenc Liszt' that we sung for him. The music was written to a
poem by the 19th-century poet Vörösmarty which begins: 'Famed
musician of the world...' We so rarely get the opportunity to size ourselves
up, to work with the truly great and receive real feedback. I don't mean
to criticize conditions here by saying this of course, but what we felt
at the concert given at the Berlin Phil harmonic meant more than anything:
Sir Georg Solti seemed to be proud that it was with Bartók's Cantata
Profana and Kodály's Psalmus and a Hun garian chorus that he achieved
such success."
A television crew accompanied Sir Georg on his last visit to Budapest.
They went with him to the Liszt Ferenc Academy of Music too. They visited
the classroom where a small plaque declares that Sir Georg studied there.
Solti was visibly moved by the piano in the rector's office, a present
from Bartók's widow, Ditta Pásztory. At one time Bartók
used to play on it. He asked Franciska Ispán, Secretary of the Academy,
what he could do for the school. "Tell me, would it help if I bought
the Academy three Stein way pianos?" he asked. He made one condition,
that the pianos should be put in the classrooms and played by the students.
When I approached the Minister of Education, Bálint Magyar, he said
that Sir Georg had come to talk to him about the pianos for the Academy
of Music. Since then the minister had discussed the gift with Lady Solti,
who assured him she would honour her husband's last wish.
At the Budapest Spring Festival in March 1998 there will be a memorial
concert to commemorate one of Hungary's most famous musicians. It is now
certain that, in accordance with the wish of his family, his ashes will
return to his homeland. The pity is that he didn't receive the conciliatory
gestures from home earlier. The loss is ours, Hungary's. Who knows, he
might have got over his affronts sooner and built up stronger ties with
Hungary. After all, where are those people now who made him feel twice
that he wasn't wanted?
László Gyõri
is a journalist on the staff of the Music Section of Hungarian
Radio.
