About the Composer

This may be of interest to very few regulars, but here it is for the future Kodály googler.

More YouTube trolling has turned up this footage of Zoltán Kodály himself interviewed on Hungarian Television in 1953. It was around this time that the ideas about music education he had been putting out in his writings for decades were just starting to be put into practice officially in Hungary’s education system.

I’ve never seen footage of Kodály before, or heard his voice, so this is a real gem for me. Below, I’ve translated the essential part of Kodály’s comments in the interview.

Yes, on a trial basis, the Ministry of Education has allowed about ten schools to teach singing six hours a week. So, we don’t have a lot of experience yet, but we’re seeing a surprising result in these schools. The students are improving in all areas. Their speech has improved; their writing has improved; their reading has improved. They’re learning to read earlier.

All of this goes back to music. For example, writing music down requires such precision that, if the written note is too high up or low down, it means something completely different. So, that influences their penmanship. Math is also going a lot better for them. Music involves constant counting, so it becomes useful to arithmetic as well.

But the most important thing is the effect it has on discipline. We complain about how hard it is to teach children discipline. Generally, in these schools things go a lot more smoothly. Ensemble singing gets them used to discipline and a feeling of responsibility.

Some of this may seem a little forced, but the epilogue is that Kodály’s notions on singing in schools were put into practice in Hungary in the 50’s and 60’s with the well-documented results that Hungarian students excelled in a number of areas as compared with those of other countries.

Happy new year! I just found this and had to share.

This is Kodály’s “Esti Dal” (Evening Song) performed by the King’s Singers. It is possibly my favorite piece of choral music. Here’s my own translation of the text:

As I lay down for the night by the edge of the woods,
I pull my blanket up to my chin.
I put my hands together,
Thus imploring you, my good Lord

My Lord, grant me a place to stay,
For I’ve grown tired of wandering,
Of hiding,
Of living in a foreign land

My Lord, grant me a good night
Send me your blessed angel
To give courage to the dreams in our hearts.
My Lord, grant me a good night

			BLUEBEARD
Well, we’re here.  This is my castle.

			JUDIT
This is your castle?  Kinda creepy.

			BLUEBEARD
Yeah.  You sure you want to come in here?

			JUDIT
Yeah.

			BLUEBEARD
Well, okay then.

			JUDIT
So, like, what’s with the seven doors?

			BLUEBEARD
You don't want to know.

			JUDIT
Open them up.

			BLUEBEARD
Um, I don't think so.

			JUDIT
Aw, come on.  Just one?

			BLUEBEARD
Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you.

More to come.

NPR has a great interview with conductor Marin Alsop and accompanying article about Bartók’s music, where she touches on folk influences and discusses The Miraculous Mandarin, Romanian Dances, Bluebeard’s Castle and more.

Béla Bartók had a breakthrough moment in his early 20s, when he heard a peasant woman singing folk songs. From that point on, he collected, recorded (on an Edison phonograph) and notated hundreds of songs from small villages in rural Hungary and Romania. His work preserving the music of those cultures had a profound influence on his own compositions.

One of the first Hungarian folksongs I learned happens to be one of the first ones that Bartók recorded in 1906. Elindultam szép hazámból, or “I set out from my homeland” (roughly) went on to be one of the most well-known folksongs in Hungary, and was included among Bartók’s 1906 collection of ten art song settings of folksongs called Hungarian Folksongs for Solo Voice and Piano. Kodály also published a set of ten of his own folksong settings the same year. There’s a lovely Hungaroton recording of both of these sets, plus one by László Lajtha.

The Bartók Album, by the folk ensemble Muzsikás, is a must-have for any Bartók fan. It’s a collection of original source material used by Bartók for various pieces, including a real treat. Here’s the actual phonograph recording made by Bartók in 1906 of the folksong mentioned above, Elindultam szép hazámból, sung by András Borek of Békésgyula.

And finally, an anecdote from the the liner notes of The Bartók Album that goes a long way to help us understand Bartók’s connection to Hungarian folk music, and the effect that he had on his country. This is from Klára Huszár, who was present at Bartók’s final concert in Hungary before leaving for exile in the U.S.

When Bartók set off for the exit during the applause, someone started singing this melody “I set off from my homeland”. Within a second, the whole audience had taken up the song, and sang it with strength and passion. Bartók stopped for a moment, and took a few steps backwards. Then he left quietly, leaving the stage of the Music Academy forever.

Don’t miss this item on NPR.org and a whole web of other related material there. Many thanks to Lisa Hirsch for calling this to my attention.

My latent, inner musicianship nerd has resurfaced lately. I am lucky to have had a very high level of musicianship training, largely based on the Kodály Method, which actually is more of a philosophy than a method. It’s mostly associated with the teaching of small children, but I encountered it first as a college freshman. I’ve been trying to rebuild my memories of how I was taught, and how I might use similar techniques as a teacher.

Sight singing exercises are executed using the movable do system, whereby “do” represents the tonic, as opposed to just being another way of saying “C”. The benefit to me was that intervals were learned in the context of tonality. The ascending fourth do-fa has a completely different implication tonally than the ascending fourth of so-do, for example. The tritone is notoriously difficult for students to hear and sing, but I think of it as fa-ti and have no trouble. The syllable ti is always a leading tone. Do-fa is always a perfect fourth. You can count on it. With fixed do, where the syllables are the same as note names, you get no help with intervals, and you just have to learn them by rote. Do-fa could be a tritone. You’re on your own.

In cases where sight singing exercises change key, it’s necessary to change the meaning of do. If you start out in D, do is D, but then when you modulate to A, do becomes A. It’s tricky, but it keeps you constantly aware of what key you’re in. Sometimes it’s a philosophical choice where to change the do. It’s also fun. (I did mention that I was a musicianship nerd.) Using this system, singing becomes a big help in learning diatonic harmony.

Hungarian composer and educator Zoltán Kodály advocated beginning with pentatonic scales (eg. do-re-me-so-la) because he had observed that children have trouble singing half steps in tune. The fourth (fa) and seventh (ti) scale degrees are left out to avoid the problem until students are more secure. The first interval taught is a descending minor third (so-mi), as this is the easiest to hear and sing. Think of all the nursery rhymes that start this way, to say nothing of the child’s taunting “nyah nyah” song. Then la is added, then do and re. The idea is that singing should be fun and natural.

Teach music and singing at school in such a way that it is not a torture but a joy for the pupil; instil a thirst for finer music in him, a thirst which will last for a lifetime. Music must not be approached from its intellectual, rational side, nor should it be conveyed to the child as a system of algebraic symbols, or as the secret writing of a language with which he has no connection.

Movement is used from the beginning, which means clapping, marching, conducting or whatever while you’re singing. This promotes an awareness of pulse, which ensures that notes and rests are given their full value. At later stages, students can clap one rhythm while singing another, or perform a three-part exercise with two parts on the piano and singing the other.

Mastering these skills without an instrument will make the student a better musician, no matter what their instrument will be. Musicianship is more than sight singing and dictation. It’s singing in tune. It’s inner hearing. It’s feeling the pulse. It’s listening to your partner. It’s making music.

Here’s a pathetic case of inertia combined with bad planning.

I managed to live in Budapest for three years without ever visiting the Bartók Museum, which is housed in the composer’s final residence before leaving Hungary for the U.S. When I was back in 2005 for the Letter To Hungary performance, there simply wasn’t time. This time it was an important agenda item, but I still managed to put it off until the second-to-last day.

Well, lunch with an old, long-lost friend got away from me that day and I got to the gate of the house at exactly 5:00. Guess what time the museum closes.

Not that I can report first-hand, but many of the rooms in the house are restored to the way Bartók left them, including his study, where he wrote the last two string quartets, Mikrokosmos and 27 Choruses, as well as many other favorites. I’d still love to get in there sometime.

As if this weren’t bad enough, I also found out that Kodály’s apartment, coincindentally in the neighborhood where I was staying, had also been turned into a museum in 1990 (exactly when I was living in Budapest). No one told me at the time. Didn’t manage to get there either.

How lame. Szégyelem magam!

Here’s a lovely excerpt from today’s weather forecast for Budapest:

Today: Abundant sunshine. High 103F. Winds W at 5 to 10 mph.
Tomorrow: Generally sunny. High 103F. Winds SSE at 5 to 10 mph.
Saturday: Sunny. Highs 99 to 103F and lows in the upper 60s.

So, basically, it’s hot. Too hot to enjoy anything. Right now it’s unbearable in the shade, and torture in the sun. Most people here seem to be taking it in their stride, but I live in San Francisco, where I’m very happy because it rarely goes above 75 degrees.

We’re going to Slovenia for a few days to visit this guy. It’s also hot there, but there’s more natural splendor.

We were supposed to go yesterday, but we missed the train. It’s so embarrassing I thought it would be a good thing to blog about. I’m hard-wired to think like a 25-year-old when I’m here, I guess, so I thought it would be nothing to take a bus and two Metro lines. The combination of traveling with a 4-year-old and the Hadean weather made that a really stupid idea.

They have taxis here.

Fortunately, Budapest has a number of places like this, where we spent yesterday afternoon, after the whole, you know, “train” thing.

It’s been a while since I’ve had anything to blog about, so I thought I’d just check in, in case anyone’s still reading this.

Later today I’m shlepping my family to Budapest for three weeks of fun, cake and eccentric conveyances. Someone recently asked if this trip has anything to do with my turning 40. I hadn’t made the connection, but since then my explanation as to why we’re going has been “mid-life crisis”. I can’t afford a motorcycle. And they scare me.

As of yesterday, a new draft of the libretto for Eros at Breakfast is complete. As lyricist, I’ve been the one holding it up. Contact me privately if you’re a theater person and would like to read it. It’s been interesting: I’ve discovered that one of the nice things about doing my own lyrics is that a big part of the composing takes place at the same time. I get rhythms in my head, and can sort of already hear the music in most cases. So I hope that will mean that the composing part will go quickly. (Yeah, right.)

The new CD containing my clarinet/piano piece American Standard has been out in the U.K. for a while and is inching toward release in the U.S. Amazon says it will by July 24th. Meanwhile, it’s now showing up (at a better price) for order direct from the distributor Qualiton. Also, I’m trying something new and have made the score and part of the piece available through the nifty distribution service from Subito Music.

Maybe I’ll do some blogging from Budapest. We’ll see.

Well, all the Budapest bloggers are sharing this little YouTube item, so I figured what the heck….

Despite the truly terrible music heard here, this video combines my two favorite things: Budapest and weird languages. It’s a Mongolian music video shot for some reason in Budapest. I can make out enough Cyrillic to tell that the title has the word “Budapest” in it.

Who knew Mongolia was turning out music videos? Anyway, there are some lovely shots of Budapest (and some not so lovely), and the language is certainly interesting to listen to, if you can stomach the music.

P.S. - Yes! The payphones in Budapest are all pink, since Deutche Telekom a.k.a T-Mobile owns a big stake in the former state telephone company.

P.P.S. - Stick with it, because it get’s really silly in the last ten seconds. (OK, not fair: If I understood the lyrics it might make perfect sense.)