E-Book_DTÖstudien_Band 62

STUDIEN ZUR
MUSIKWISSENSCHAFT
Beihefte der Denkmäler
der Tonkunst in Österreich
Zweiundsechzigster Band

STUDIEN ZUR MUSIKWISSENSCHAFT
BAND 62

STUDIEN ZUR
MUSIKWISSENSCHAFT
Beihefte der Denkmäler
der Tonkunst in Österreich
Unter Leitung
von
MARTIN EYBL
und
ELISABETH TH. HILSCHER
im Auftrag der DTÖ
(Gesellschaft zur Herausgabe von Denkmälern der Tonkunst in Österreich)
Zweiundsechzigster Band

MUSICAL PRACTICE
IN THE
LONG NINETEENTH
CENTURY
UNKNOWN EGO DOCUMENTS
FROM CENTRAL EUROPE
herausgegeben
von
LILI VERONIKA BÉKÉSSY
MARTIN EYBL
GESA FINKE

Für den Inhalt der Abhandlungen sind die Verfasser verantwortlich.
Die Wahl der Rechtschreibung (alte bzw. neue Rechtschreibung) wurde den Autoren überlassen.
Die 1913 von Guido Adler gegründete Zeitschrift umfasst Studien,
die in direktem Zusammenhang mit Bänden der DTÖ (Denkmäler der Tonkunst in Österreich)
stehen, methodische Überlegungen zur musikalischen Philologie (Quellenkunde,
Editionspraxis), Aufsätze zur Musikgeschichte Österreichs (in einem umfassenden Sinn)
sowie Editionen entsprechender Textquellen (wie Tagebücher oder Korrespondenz).
Founded in 1913 by Guido Adler this journal comprises studies directly connected with
specific volumes of DTÖ (Denkmäler der Tonkunst in Österreich) as well as methodological
considerations concerning musical bibliography (source study, editing), studies in the
wider field of Austrian music history, “Austria” being defined by historical context, and editions
of corresponding text sources (diaries, correspondence, etc.).
Manuskripte sind bei den Herausgebern
(E-Mail: elisabeth.hilscher@oeaw.ac.at oder eybl@mdw.ac.at)
einzureichen und werden Begutachtungsverfahren nach internationalen Standards
(peer review) unterzogen.
Abbildungen, Notenbeispiele etc. sind den Manuskripten druckfertig
mit mindestens 300 dpi Auflösung gesondert als Grafikdatei beizugeben,
die Rechte der Wiedergabe von den Autoren vorab zu klären.
© HOLLITZER Verlag, Wien 2024
www.hollitzer.at
Lektorat: Maximilian Böhm, Johannes Fiebich, Marc Brooks
Umschlag und Satz: Gabriel Fischer
Hergestellt in der EU
Alle Rechte vorbehalten.
Die Abbildungsrechte sind nach bestem Wissen und Gewissen geprüft worden.
Im Falle noch offener, berechtigter Ansprüche wird um Mitteilung des Rechteinhabers ersucht.
ISBN 978-3-99094-186-7
ISSN 0930-9578

INHALT
Vorwort……………………………………………………………………… 7
Gesa Finke (Köln)
Ego Documents as Sources for Writing Music History……………………… 9
Martin Eybl (Wien)
Musical Practice and Music Historiography………………………………… 17
Marko Motnik (Maribor)
Eine Stadtchronik oder ein Ego-Dokument?
Die Schilderungen des Musiklebens im Laibach der 1830er Jahre
in den Berichten von Franz Franz…………………………………………… 25
Eleonore Kinsky (Praha)
Memories of the Musical Life in Bohemia in the 1840s:
Antonín Dvořák’s Interview in the Sunday Times, May 1885………………… 49
Emese Tóth (Budapest)
Between Rotterdam and Pest: József Ellinger’s Letters to Ferenc Erkel……… 65
Lili Veronika Békéssy (Budapest)
“… a son of our country asks for the patronage of your esteemed journal.”
Sen. Kornél Ábrányi’s Network……………………………………………… 85
Vjera Katalinić (Zagreb)
Franjo Ks. Kuhač in the Culture of Letters:
Between Micro- and Macrohistory…………………………………………… 119
Tomasz Pudłocki (Krakow)
Ego Documents as Sources for Musical Activities
in the Galician High Schools, 1867–1914……………………………………… 137
Jana Laslavíková (Bratislava)
Conducting at the Municipal Theatre in Pressburg:
Bruno Walter Reports to his Family………………………………………… 155
Zsombor Németh (Budapest)
The Violinist Imre Waldbauer’s Acquaintance with Béla Bartók……………… 175

VORWORT
Die folgenden Aufsätze gehen auf einen Workshop zurück, der auf Initiative von
Martin Eybl im September 2022 an der Universität für Musik und darstellende
Kunst in Wien stattfand. Unter dem Titel „Musikalische Praxis im langen 19. Jahrhundert“
stellten Forscherinnen und Forscher aus Polen, Deutschland, Tschechien,
der Slowakei, Österreich, Ungarn, Rumänien, Slowenien und Kroatien unbekannte
oder erst teilweise aufgearbeitete Ego-Dokumente aus Zentraleuropa vor.
Etliche dieser Beiträge gingen in den vorliegenden Sammelband ein. Vier Schwerpunkte
wurden bei dem vorwiegend auf Englisch abgehaltenen Workshop nacheinander
behandelt: „Urban Cultures“, „Urban Life Meets Rural Practices“,
„Performers’ Careers“ und „Gatekeeper“. Diese Felder prägen auch die folgenden
Beiträge, die hier chronologisch angeordnet sind und nach zwei Aufsätzen zu den
zentralen Begriffen „Ego Documents“ und „Musical Practice“ von Laibach in den
1830er Jahren ausgehen und bis nach Budapest in den Jahren vor dem Ersten Weltkrieg
führen.
Wir danken den Veranstaltern des Workshops, der Österreichischen Gesellschaft
für Musikwissenschaft, der Gesellschaft zur Herausgabe von Denkmälern der
Tonkunst in Österreich und dem Institut für Musikwissenschaft und Interpretationsforschung
an der Universität für Musik und darstellende Kunst Wien, für die
organisatorische und finanzielle Unterstützung, weiter dem zuletzt genannten
Institut für die Finanzierung des englischsprachigen Lektorats durch Marc Brooks
sowie der Gesellschaft zur Herausgabe von Denkmälern der Tonkunst in Österreich
für die Unterstützung der Drucklegung.
Lili Veronika Békéssy
Martin Eybl
Gesa Finke
9

Gesa Finke (Köln)
EGO DOCUMENTS
AS SOURCES FOR WRITING MUSIC HISTORY
EGO DOCUMENTS AND MUSICOLOGICAL RESEARCH
The essays in this volume not only introduce ego documents of various types from
Central European musical cultures, but also raise the question of how they may be
treated methodologically. The following remarks aim to open a discussion about
the opportunities offered as well as the challenges posed by integrating ego documents
into musicological research. The term “ego document” was coined in 1958 by
Jacques Presser when referring to “those documents in which an ego [i.e. a ‘self’]
intentionally or unintentionally discloses, or hides itself”1. It was then adopted by
the Dutch historian Rudolf Dekker who focused on finding and editing sources
like autobiographies, memoirs, letters and diaries from early modern history.2 In
the 1990s, Winfried Schulze introduced the term to the German research community,
defining it as follows:
Texts can be defined as ego documents if they contain statements or parts
of statements that, even though rudimentary or concealed, either give information
about a person’s deliberate or accidental self-awareness within
his or her family, community, country or social class, or reflect upon their
relationship to these systems and its changes. Such documents might justify
individual human behaviour, reveal anxieties, present specific knowledge,
highlight personal values and biases, or reflect experiences and expectations.3
1 Jacques Presser, Memoires als geschiedbron, in: Winkler Prins Encyclopedie VIII. Amsterdam
1958, pp. 208–210. Translation by Rudolf Dekker, in: Egodocuments and History: Autobiographical
Writing in its Context since the Middle Ages, ed. by Rudolf Dekker. Hilversum
2002, p. 7. Cf. Volker Depkat, Ego-documents, in: Handbook of Autobiography/Autofiction,
vol. 1: Theory and concepts, ed. by Martina Wagner-Egelhaaf. Boston–Berlin 2019,
pp. 262–267, at p. 262.
2 Cf. ibidem, p. 262.
3 “Gemeinsames Kriterium aller Texte, die als Ego-Dokumente bezeichnet werden können,
sollte es sein, daß Aussagen oder Aussagenpartikel vorliegen, die – wenn auch in rudimentärer
und verdeckter Form – über die freiwillige oder erzwungene Selbstwahrnehmung
eines Menschen in seiner Familie, seiner Gemeinde, seinem Land oder seiner sozialen
Schicht Auskunft geben oder sein Verhältnis zu diesen Systemen und deren Veränderungen
reflektieren. Sie sollten individuell-menschliches Verhalten rechtfertigen, Ängste offen-
11

Ever since, the term has been more widely discussed among Dutch and German
historians, although it has been less in evidence in English academia or Germanlanguage
musicological research. One explanation may lie in traditional German
musicology’s scepticism towards ego documents as reliable sources; it has disparaged
them as subjective and urged they be handled with caution. One example
demonstrates that this tendency is still active: the student handbook Musikwissenschaftliches
Arbeiten. Eine Einführung from 2014 lists autobiographies, memoirs,
recollections, travelogues, diaries, private correspondence, Stammbücher, conversation
books and notes/notebooks under the term “documents from the private
sphere” (“Dokumente aus dem privaten Umfeld”4). These sources are not disqualified
as research sources altogether, but the short two-page chapter offers no advice
about how to use them. If we turn to musicological handbooks and encyclopedias,
the term “ego documents” is missing and a general methodology seems to be absent.
However, interest in ego documents has been strong when musicologists have
attempted to fathom the link between the life and the work of “great” composers.
Ever since the nineteenth century, editions of musical works have been accompanied
by volumes of ego documents, especially letters. These large editorial projects,
for example on Wolfgang Amadé Mozart, Ludwig van Beethoven or Richard
Wagner, not only span several decades,5 but have also expanded in size due to the
possibilities offered by digital editions.6 Letters, it seems, constitute the most important
musicological source type after musical works.
In the 1990s, a surge in interest in the concept of ego documents coincided
with the proclamation of the cultural turn.7 In musicology, ego documents were
an important factor in opening musicology to cultural studies, especially in the
field of Gender Studies, which compelled scholars to revise methodologies and
reflect upon source types.8 According to Susanne Rode-Breymann’s concept of
baren, Wissensbestände darlegen, Wertvorstellungen beleuchten, Lebenserfahrungen und
-erwartungen widerspiegeln.” Winfried Schulze, Ego-Dokumente: Annäherung an den Menschen
in der Geschichte? Vorüberlegungen für die Tagung “Ego-Dokumente”, in: Ego-Dokumente:
Annäherung an den Menschen in der Geschichte, ed. by Winfried Schulze. Berlin 1996,
pp. 11–30, at p. 28. My translation.
4 Matthew Gardner – Sara Springfeld, Musikwissenschaftliches Arbeiten. Eine Einführung.
Kassel 2014, p. 121.
5 Cf. Sophia Gustorff, Musikerbriefe vor und um 1800, in: Handbuch Brief: von der frühen
Neuzeit bis zur Gegenwart, vol. 2, ed. by Maria Isabel Matthews-Schlinzig – Jörg Schuster.
Berlin 2020, pp. 1006–1020.
6 Cf. “Digitale Mozart Edition” der Stiftung Mozarteum Salzburg, https://dme.mozarteum.
at/briefe-dokumente/, accessed Jul. 21, 2023.
7 Cf. V. Depkat, see note 1, p. 263.
8 Nina Noeske, Gender Studies. 2. Musikwissenschaftliche Gender Studies, in: Lexikon Musik
und Gender, ed. by Annette Kreutziger-Herr – Melanie Unseld. Kassel 2010, pp. 234–236;
12

“kulturelles Handeln” (cultural agency), musicological research was to turn towards
exploring a variety of cultural agents and activities.9 This would shift the
focus to writing about music in daily practices and routines, away from a history
of heroes and masterpieces.10 As women’s documents had lower chances of being
included in collections and archives, institutions were founded to preserve these
documents and enable research based on them.11
The discussion around ego documents is therefore closely connected to aspects
of canon formation and memory culture. Some composers’ ego documents
have reached a high degree of fame and popularity. Additionally, they have been
collected in detail, so the findings from an unknown personal source regularly
causes excitement around what seems to be no more than a tiny piece of the (biographical)
puzzle. In contrast, the personal material of many other musicians
remains unknown. New ego documents therefore allow research into all kinds of
musical agency besides composing music, such as questions regarding musical
practice and performance history, musical spaces and musical discourses. By shifting
the focus towards Central Europe, as this volume does, ego-document-focused
research expands our knowledge about music history geographically. Jana
Laslavíková presents a case concerning the recently discovered collection of letters
that Bruno Walter wrote to his family during his short employment at the
Municipal Theatre in Pressburg. They revise Walter’s own harsh judgment on his
stay in Pressburg, while also revealing many details about the musical practice at
the theater. Emese Tóth, in her study of the letters the tenor József Ellinger sent to
the composer Ferenc Erkel, shows how the singer struggled with both his voice and
the harsh criticism in the press, thereby revealing the high demands theaters made
on performers in the nineteenth century. Lili Veronika Békéssy’s essay concerns
the role of the musician and writer Kornél Ábrányi as gatekeeper to Hungarian
musical life at the end of the nineteenth century. Békéssy outlines Ábrányi’s various
activities and shows how he profoundly shaped the nationalist discourse in
music at the time.
Melanie Unseld, Musikwissenschaft als Kulturwissenschaft (Oldenburger Universitätsreden
195) Oldenburg 2011, pp. 9–33, at p. 28–29, http://oops.uni-oldenburg.de/1097/1/ur195.pdf,
accessed Jul. 21, 2023.
9 Susanne Rode-Breymann, Wer war Katharina Gerlach? Über den Nutzen der Perspektive
kulturellen Handelns für die musikwissenschaftliche Frauenforschung, in: Orte der Musik. Kulturelles
Handeln von Frauen in der Stadt (Musik – Kultur – Gender 3) ed. by Susanne
Rode-Breymann. Köln–Weimar–Wien 2007, pp. 269–284.
10 Susanne Rode-Breymann, Orte und Räume kulturellen Handelns von Frauen, in: History |
Herstory. Alternative Musikgeschichten (Musik – Kultur – Gender 5) ed. by Annette
Kreutziger-Herr – Katrin Losleben. Köln–Weimar–Wien 2009, pp. 186–197, at p. 194.
11 For example the Forschungszentrum Musik und Gender (fmg) at Hochschule für Musik,
Theater und Medien Hannover, Germany.
13

MOVING TOWARDS A METHODOLOGY
How then can we read ego documents as sources? This question demands a larger
discussion about a methodology for ego documents. I will address two points: the
aspects of narration and memory. Volker Depkat elaborated on the challenges of
reading autobiographies as historical sources when they are used to extract factual
information. He suggests instead scholars “examine autobiographies as narrative
texts in which a subject constitutes themself as an ‘I’ through the process of narration,
describes themself as an ‘I’ and relates themself to past and future through
narration. Historians should therefore turn towards the narrative rules of autobiography
as a genre when starting their study.”12 This approach works for other
kinds of ego documents as well: the point is to read them as texts, paying attention
to their mode of textuality with its specific narrative strategies.13 This relates to
questions of individual or collective identity (such as class, race, gender, age,
nationality) of the ego document’s author. Besides the subject position, autobiographies,
and other ego documents, must be analyzed as acts of communication.14
Whom do they address, and with what intent? What do we know about the
context of the ego document? Are there other sources we can use to confirm the
information we find in the source? These sorts of questions are usually associated
with issues regarding the credibility or reliability of the source. However, this does
not have to be a matter of distrust or caution: “confirming” is not designed to
“countercheck” the ego document, but rather to put it into perspective by viewing
it in the context of other sources.
This brings us onto the second aspect of how to read ego documents as sources:
Ego documents need to be approached via memory theory. While the history of
memory studies reaches back to Maurice Halbwachs and Aby Warburg in the
1920s, the works of Jan and Aleida Assmann as well as Harald Welzer and Astrid
Erll have strongly influenced German cultural studies since the turn of the twentyfirst
century.15 In memory studies, the strict boundary between history as objective
12 “Autobiographien als narrative Texte zu untersuchen, in denen sich ein Subjekt im Prozess
der Erzählung überhaupt erst als ‘Ich’ konstituiert, sich als ein ‘Ich’ selbst beschreibt und
sich durch seine Erzählung zu Vergangenheit und Zukunft in Beziehung setzt. Deshalb
sollten Historiker die narrativen Eigengesetzlichkeiten des Genres Autobiographie zum
Ausgangspunkt ihrer quellenkundlichen Anstrengungen machen.” Volker Depkat, Zum
Stand und zu den Perspektiven der Autobiographieforschung in der Geschichtswissenschaft,
in: BIOS – Zeitschrift für Biographieforschung, Oral History und Lebensverlaufsanalysen 23/2
(2010), pp. 170–187, at p. 175, https://nbn-resolving.org/urn:nbn:de:0168-ssoar-355686,
accessed Jul. 21, 2023. My Translation.
13 Cf. ibidem.
14 Cf. ibidem, p. 176.
15 For an introduction to the field of memory studies and an extensive bibliography see
14

and individual memories as subjective versions of history dissolves. All historical
narrations are inevitably selective reconstructions of the past.16 As Erll points out:
“Despite the unavoidable heterogeneity of the terminology, there are two generally
agreed-upon central characteristics of (conscious) remembering: its relationship to
the present and its constructed nature. Memories are not objective images of past
perceptions, even less of a past reality. They are subjective, highly selective reconstructions,
dependent on the situation in which they are recalled.”17 Some of the
essays in this volume address ego documents with a sensitivity to their specific
memorial context: Thomas Pudłocki analyzes the memoirs of Galician high school
students, written after the first World War for reunions or celebrations at the
schools, and elaborates on how the descriptions of musical life functioned in these
memoirs. Eleonore Kinsky explores Antonin Dvořák’s childhood memories in his
interview with the Sunday Times in 1885 against the background of certain stereotypical
images of Bohemia and Bohemian musicians. Zsombor Németh introduces
violinist Imre Waldbauer’s memories of his friend Béla Bartók, which were also
written ex post in 1950 after Waldbauer had emigrated to the USA. Waldbauer tried
not only to preserve his knowledge of the vast network surrounding himself and
Bartók, but also to reconsider his attitude towards Hungarian nationalism around
1900.
As a consequence, it is not the scholar’s task to judge ego documents as “right”
or “wrong” but to peel away the layers of memory that surround them. Memories
are based on patterns of perception (“Wahrnehmungsmuster”) or topoi – such as
self images, career models, role models or (auto-)biographical models – which significantly
influence narrations of the self.18 Working with ego documents therefore
requires a methodology which incorporates what Melanie Unseld calls
“memoriksensible Quellenkritik”: scholars should, that is, treat historical sources
with an awareness of memorial processes.19
Christian Gudehus – Ariane Eichenberg – Harald Welzer (eds.), Gedächtnis und Erinnerung.
Ein interdisziplinäres Handbuch. Stuttgart 2010; Astrid Erll, Kollektives Gedächtnis
und Erinnerungskulturen: Eine Einführung. Stuttgart 2005; English translation: Astrid Erll,
Memory in culture. Basingstoke 2011.
16 This continues the debate around the fictionality of historiography which had been initiated
by Hayden White, Tropics of discourse. Essays in cultural criticism. Baltimore 1978.
17 A. Erll, see note 15, p. 8.
18 Cf. Martina Wagner-Egelhaaf, Autobiographie, 2nd ed. Stuttgart 2005, p. 12; Melanie
Unseld, Biographie und Musikgeschichte: Wandlungen biographischer Konzepte in Musikkultur
und Musikhistoriographie. Köln 2014, pp. 59–68.
19 Melanie Unseld, Die Kulturwissenschaften als Herausforderung für die Musikwissenschaft –
und was sich daraus für die Historische Musikwissenschaft ergibt, in: Historische Musikwissenschaft:
Grundlagen und Perspektiven, ed. by Michele Calella – Nikolaus Urbanek. Stuttgart
2013, pp. 266–288, at p. 281.
15

OUTLOOK: READING EGO DOCUMENTS
While many of the essays in this volume address the challenge of how to make use
of ego documents, many also raise the question of what counts as an ego document.
Depkat emphasized that the term “ego document” remains contested. And
in Winfried Schulze’s definition cited at the beginning of this essay, it has a
wide-ranging meaning that refers not only to personal documents but also to institutional
sources.20 Additionally, it is not clear how to distinguish ego documents
from “autobiographies” or “self-narratives”.21 Letters, autobiographies and diaries
would probably be among the first to be named as ego documents in musical culture,
partly as a result of “the formation of a culture of inwardness that genuinely
constitutes itself through the medium of writing”22 in the eighteenth and nineteenth
century. In musicology, letters that reveal the subjectivity and aesthetic
principles of the composer as well as their intimate relationships have greatly affected
the musicological understanding of letters as ego documents. However, the
epistolary culture of the eighteenth and nineteenth century is much more diverse,
and musicians contributed significantly to it.23 Letters present many different
kinds of relationships, and not all of them explicitly reveal a “self”, as Marko
Motnik shows through the example of Franz Franz who was employed by Baron
Josef Kalasanz von Erberg to report news from the town of Laibach (Ljubljana).
Another striking example are the letters of the Croatian musicologist Franjo
Ks. Kuhač, which Vjera Katalinić presents in her essay. Kuhač copied his letters
conscientiously into books (“Briefkopierbücher”) which span across decades, resulting
in a collection of more than 3000 letters. Due to its sequentiality and materiality,
the collection shares various characteristics with autobiographical writing,
especially the diary. The examples of both Franz and Kuhač seem to stretch
the limits of ego documents as sources. But they actually turn the question of
“how to read ego documents as sources” into one of “how to read sources as ego
documents”. By so doing, we move away from an essentialist view of ego documents
to one of them as a method of reading certain sources – including those we
would not usually class as ego documents in the first place.
This method of reading certain sources as ego documents would then concern
genuinely musical sources as well. The debate about whether musical works can or
should be read (auto)biographically reaches back into the nineteenth century and
20 V. Depkat, see note 1, p. 263.
21 Ibidem.
22 Davide Giuriato, Letter, E-mail, SMS, in: Handbook of Autobiography/Autofiction, vol. 1,
ed. by Martina Wagner-Egelhaaf. Berlin–Munich–Boston 2019, pp. 617–625, at p. 617.
23 Cf. S. Gustorff, see note 5.
16

has been a highly contested issue ever since.24 From the viewpoint of cultural studies,
the line between (auto)biography and music is flexible and depends on how the
scholar conceives the music. If music is analyzed as daily practice, it automatically
raises the question of its involvement in personal settings and its role as communication.
Cornelia Bartsch offered the letters between Fanny Hensel and her brother
Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy as an example of how music can itself become a
medium of correspondence.25 By including types of ego documents that go beyond
texts, i.e. scores as well as audio or audiovisual sources, musicology can make
a substantial intervention in an interdisciplinary discussion about ego documents.
Such perspectives suggest that ego documents need not only be supplemental, but
can be central to musicological research.
24 Cf. Mark Evan Bonds, The Beethoven Syndrome: Hearing Music as Autobiography. Oxford
2019.
25 Cornelia Bartsch, Fanny Hensel geb. Mendelssohn Bartholdy: Musik als Korrespondenz. Kassel
2007.
17

Martin Eybl (Wien)
MUSICAL PRACTICE
AND MUSIC HISTORIOGRAPHY
How music history is told and written varied throughout history. In the past and
in the present, different perspectives and approaches are at work. Music history can
be conceived as a history of works, indeed of “masterpieces”, if you will. The relationship
of the works to each other is the focus, as are those who created these
works and those who perform them. Music history might also be understood as a
history of discourses. This is about how music was thought and spoken about, about
its foundations in the tonal system, its effect on listeners and the meaning attributed
to it. Such a perspective of music history thus brings music theory, music
aesthetics and music philosophy into focus. The process of canonization of works
falls into the category of discourses, too.
Provided that a score of musical notes is also a ‘text’ in an extended sense, both
a history of works and a history of discourses refer to texts. In addition to these two
options, a third possibility can be mentioned, a history of musical practices in which
all possible ways of doing music (or musicking) – performing and distributing music,
listening to it, writing and reading music, dancing and marching with music
etc. – are brought into focus. Works, discourses, and practices thus mark three
perspectives that may come to the forefront of interest in music historiography to
varying degrees.
In their definition of music history, however, the two major musicology encyclopedias
place surprisingly little importance on the practices of participants. In
her definition of music history, only recently published in MGG Online, Melanie
Wald-Fuhrmann groups the discipline around three other terms: repertoires,
meaning, and contexts:
Music history includes the philological-editorial, analytical, hermeneutic,
and critical examination of musical repertoires of the past, the attempt to
determine their aesthetic meaning and historical significance, and the
identification of the intellectual, cultural, and social contexts that shaped
and were shaped by them.1
1 “Die Musikgeschichte umfasst die philologisch-editorische, analytische, hermeneutische
und kritische Auseinandersetzung mit musikalischen Repertoires der Vergangenheit, den
Versuch der Bestimmung ihrer ästhetischen und historischen Bedeutung sowie die Identifikation
der für sie prägenden und durch sie mitgeprägten ideen-, kultur- und sozialhistorischen
Kontexte.” Melanie Wald-Fuhrmann, Musikwissenschaft, III.1 Musikgeschichte,
in: MGG Online, ed. by Laurenz Lütteken. New York et al. 2016 ff., publication date
19

This definition of music history focuses on works and discourses, while the practices
of participants are not directly addressed – although it does leave room for
their inclusion. So one can include a history of the distribution of music, the music
market, the market for recorded music, or the culture of patronage under “identification
of contexts”; one can subsume the care of estates, commemorative work,
such as the establishment of monuments, and even music historiography under the
“determination of aesthetic meaning and historical significance”; and finally, one
can understand a history of composing (which is different from a history of composition
or works!) as an “examination of repertoires”, since one can find many
sources for such an examination in the field of music philology (such as compositional
sketches). However, the classifications are not completely unambiguous or
without contradiction, since, for example, a history of composing also involves
aspects of the history of ideas and social history. But where should a history of
listening be placed in Wald-Fuhrmann’s categories, or questions that illuminate
the interplay between orality and writing, as happens in improvisation and performance
practice?
Relatively early on, the article continues, notation assumed the character not
only of a compositional medium and a performance specification, but also of a
medium of memory and transmission. Wald-Fuhrmann concludes:
The music-historical approach, which is often accused of being fixated on
works and texts, is thus an appropriate reaction to the nature and form of
transmission of the object of interest, at least if one wants to pursue music
history not only as a social, cultural, and intellectual history of music, but
also as a history of the creative shaping of and thinking through sound in
spatio-temporal structures in a comprehensive sense.2
A similar opposition of viewpoints is also described by Glenn Stanley in his article
“Historiography” for the New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians (2001). The
two points of view can perhaps be summarized as follows: Music encompasses
more than just a repertoire of works, they say on the one hand; apart from the
context of music, musical works still remain the central object of research, they say
Juni 2022, https://www.mgg-online.com/mgg/stable/404605, accessed Jul. 21, 2023. Translation
by the author.
2 “Die dem musikgeschichtlichen Ansatz oft vorgeworfene Werk- und Textfixiertheit ist insofern
eine angemessene Reaktion auf Wesen und Überlieferungsform des interessierenden
Gegenstandes, jedenfalls sofern man Musikgeschichte nicht nur als Sozial-, Kultur- und
Ideengeschichte der Musik betreiben will, sondern auch als Geschichte des kreativen Gestaltens
und Denkens in und mit klanglichen bzw. zeiträumlichen Strukturen im umfassenden
Sinn.” Ibidem.
20

on the other. In his comparison of work and context (“the greater cultural
processes”), Stanley brings the question of the autonomy of music into play, but
makes no attempt to clarify or reconcile the two positions, as if he considered
making a decision between the “competing philosophies of history” superfluous.
A highly significant consequence of the work-orientation of art histories
has been the question of autonomy, which extends from general historiographical
areas to those specific to the arts. Because musical works, for
example, possess uniquely musical material, does it follow that music (1)
develops according to its own laws and (2) is understood phenomenologically,
or is it so highly conditioned by the greater cultural processes to
which it undeniably belongs that (1) explanations of its development
should not emphasize its autonomy and (2) formal explication is incomplete
and insufficient? In all its phases music historiography has encompassed
both approaches, supported by the often competing philosophies of
history to which every music historian consciously or unconsciously subscribes.3
The discussion about work and context draws a boundary between music and its
environment, while the distinction between works, discourses, and practices is
based on the intimate entanglement of the domains: Works are the result and the
trigger of discourses, but they are also part of it. Likewise, they emerge from and
are involved in practices for as long as they are remembered.
The accent on musical practice has its methodological and philosophical foundations
in practice theory or “praxeology”. Practice theory is not a single coherent
concept, but rather a family of similar concepts that have been developing over
about fifty years and are now established as a significant approach in sociology and
philosophy, even initiating what was called a “Practice Turn”.4 The development of
practice theory has been driven by Pierre Bourdieu, Anthony Giddens, Judith
Butler, Theodore Schatzki and Andreas Reckwitz, to name a few.5
3 Glenn Stanley, Historiography (2001), in: Grove Music Online https://www.oxfordmu-
siconline.com/grovemusic/display/10.1093/gmo/9781561592630.001.0001/omo-
9781561592630-e-0000051674, accessed Jul. 21, 2023.
4 Cf. The practice turn in contemporary theory, ed. by Theodore R. Schatzki – Karin Knorr
Cetina – Eike von Savigny. London 2001.
5 Pierre Bourdieu, Outline of a theory of practice. Cambridge–New York 1977; idem, The logic
of practice. Cambridge 1990; idem, Pascalian meditations. Stanford 2000; Anthony Giddens,
Central problems in social theory: Action, structure and contradiction in social analyses. London
1979; idem, The constitution of society: Outline of the theory of structuration. Cambridge 1984;
Judith Butler, Gender trouble: Feminism and the subversion of identity. New York 1990;
Theodore R. Schatzki, Social Practices: A Wittgensteinian Approach to Human Activity and
21

Practice theory has found resonances in various fields of musicology since the
2000s. With or without reference to the approaches in sociology, the reception of
practice theory happened in the field of musical microhistory, the musical history
of everyday life, in ethnomusicology and in musical gender studies. We may take,
as an example from the English-speaking world, the anthology Masculinity and
Western Musical Practice, edited in 2009 by the two English musicologists Ian
Biddle and Kirsten Gibson.6 Practice theory has also been employed in the German-speaking
world, especially in musical gender studies. In 2005, Susanne
Rode-Breymann initiated the research project “Orte der Musik – Kulturelles
Handeln von Frauen in der Frühen Neuzeit” (Musical spaces: The cultural practices
of women in the early modern period) at the Hanover University of Music and
Theater and organized a conference on the early modern city as a space of cultural
practice of women in 2006.7 Rode-Breymann called for a shift in focus from a
“history of works” to one of cultural practice (kulturelles Handeln) in order to shed
light on female participation in culture. She cited the performance of and listening
to works, their dissemination, and their promotion through patronage as areas in
which women had helped shape and mold the musical culture of earlier centuries.8
The concept of cultural practice, in her opinion, does not focus on the artifact, the
object, the outstanding masterpiece, but on the ongoing events and all those who
contribute to cultural processes as listeners, supporters or decision makers.9 Since
around 2010, the term “musikkulturelles Handeln” (music-cultural practice) has
increasingly appeared in German-language gender research10 – albeit without a
the Social. Cambridge–New York–Melbourne 1996; Andreas Reckwitz, Grundelemente
einer Theorie sozialer Praktiken, in: idem, Unscharfe Grenzen. Perspektiven der Kultursoziologie.
Bielefeld 2008, pp. 97–130.
6 Ian Biddle – Kirsten Gibson (eds.), Masculinity and Western Musical Practice. Farnham–
Burlington 2009. Further early examples: Nicholas Gebhardt, Going for jazz: musical
practices and American ideology. Chicago 2001; Ron Emoff, Recollecting from the past: Musical
practice and spirit possession on the east coast of Madagascar. Middletown, Conn. 2002;
Jeffers Engelhardt, Singing in “transition”: musical practices and ideologies of renewal in the
Orthodox church of Estonia. PhD diss. University of Chicago, 2005.
7 Susanne Rode-Breymann (ed.), Orte der Musik. Kulturelles Handeln von Frauen in der Stadt
(Musik – Kultur – Gender 3) Köln–Weimar–Wien 2007.
8 Ibidem pp. 1–2. Cf. Susanne Rode-Breymann, Orte und Räume kulturellen Handelns von
Frauen, in: History | Herstory. Alternative Musikgeschichten (Musik – Kultur – Gender 5) ed.
by Annette Kreutziger-Herr – Katrin Losleben. Köln–Weimar–Wien 2009, pp. 186–197.
9 Susanne Rode-Breymann, Überlegungen zum Konzept “kulturellen Handelns”, in: Carola
Bebermeier – Melanie Unseld (eds.), La cosa è scabrosa: Das Ereignis “Figaro” und die Wiener
Opernpraxis der Mozartzeit. Wien 2018, pp. 21–30.
10 Cf. e.g. Susanne Rode-Breymann – Melanie Unseld – Nina Noeske, Gender Studies, in:
MGG Online, ed. by Laurenz Lütteken. New York et al. 2016 ff., first published in 2008,
published online in 2016, https://www.mgg-online.com/mgg/stable/12150, accessed
22

more precise definition of what music culture is supposed to mean. There is a danger
that this term will (unintentionally) relate primarily to high culture, in which
salons, canon formation, and music instruction are located.
Christopher Small, on the other hand, radically tears down the boundaries of
high culture with his neologism “musicking”. Western art music for him is just
“ethnic music like any other”.11 Accordingly, in his provocative book Musicking, he
analyzes a symphony concert from the perspective of an ethnologist as primarily a
social event. Small criticizes “the exclusive concentration on musical works” and
promotes the “idea that music is first and foremost action”.12 Music, as he puts it,
is “not a thing at all but an activity, something that people do. The apparent thing,
‘music’, is a figment, an abstraction of the action, whose reality vanishes as soon as
we examine it at all closely.”13 Thus, Small redefines “music” as a verb and thus
comes very close to the notion of cultural practice:
To music is to take part, in any capacity, in a musical performance,
whether by performing, by listening, by rehearsing or practicing, by providing
material for performance (what is called composing), or by dancing.
We might at times even extend its meaning to what the person is
doing who takes the tickets at the door or the hefty men who shift the
piano and the drums or the roadies who set up the instruments and carry
out the sound checks or the cleaners who clean up after everyone else has
gone. They too are all contributing to the nature of the event that is a
musical performance.14
Even though Christopher Small illustrates his approach with a classical concert,
the concept of musicking allows for wide-ranging applications, including everyday
practices. “Kulturelles Handeln” in the field of music and musicking are two examples
of a tendency in musicology to increasingly turn away from a work- and
Jul. 21, 2023; Annette Kreuziger-Herr, Kulturwissenschaft, Kulturgeschichte. 4. Kulturelles
Handeln / Musikkulturelles Handeln, in: Lexikon Musik und Gender, ed. by Annette
Kreutziger-Herr – Melanie Unseld. Kassel 2010, p. 320–21; Gesa Finke, Die Komponistenwitwe
Constanze Mozart. Musik bewahren und Erinnerung gestalten (Biographik:
Geschichte – Kritik – Praxis 2) Köln–Wien 2013; Carola Bebermeier – Melanie Unseld,
Figaro als Ereignis. Zur Einleitung, in: eaedem (eds.), La cosa è scabrosa, see note 9, pp. 7–20.
11 Christopher Small, Musicking: The Meanings of Performing and Listening. Hanover 1998,
p. 14. In a similar direction goes the essay Christopher Small, Performance as ritual: Sketch
for an Enquiry into the True Nature of a Symphony Concert, in: Avron Levine White (ed.),
Lost in Music: Culture, Style and the Music Event. London 1987, pp. 6–32.
12 Ibidem p. 8–9.
13 Ibidem p. 2.
14 Ibidem p. 9.
23

text-centered approach toward musical practice. The fact that neither concept refers
to the other or to the same theoretical sources is not atypical within the most
diverse fields of research in the social and cultural sciences, which employ praxeological
models “independently of each other and without any awareness of a social-theoretical
common ground”.15
The greatest advantage of a praxeological approach to music historiography is
its breadth of content. It is applicable to a wide variety of musical activities, listening
to music and composing, singing on the opera stage as well as singing in the
shower, the marketing of performances in music management as well as the use of
chorales in church services. The approach is inclusive and does not exclude certain
types of music-making when it comes to first developing meaningful research
questions. With the diversity of music-making practices, new groups of people also
come into focus, people who deal with, promote and disseminate music without
being composers or performers. In addition, the material aspects of music are included.
Musical practice includes the artefacts we need to write down and read
music, such as paper, pen, pencil, ink, the printing press etc. etc. It also includes
the artefacts we need to make musical sound (instruments, CD player, conductor’s
baton, etc.), but also the bodies that write, operate a printing press, play an instrument
or sing.
Practice theory includes the extraordinary – for example the performance of
great masterpieces – as well as the ordinary. In this way, everyday experiences can
enter into historical observation; even small events become part of a microhistory.
Within historical and sociological lifestyle research, Andreas Reckwitz distinguishes
between practices of work, practices of intimate interaction (within friendship,
partnership, family or sociable group) and practices of the self.16 That the
latter practices play such a minor role in the following contributions is probably no
coincidence. We do not know many sources about the silent reading of music,
which gained popularity in the nineteenth century, the age of piano scores. Making
music alone and for oneself, which was certainly practiced extensively, perhaps
seemed too unattractive to be reported on in detail, and has therefore hardly been
reflected in ego documents either. The possibility of listening to music on one’s
own was only made possible by the new media of sound recording in the twentieth
century, but even here we lack appropriate sources. Perhaps, however, a systematic
15 “[…] unabhängig voneinander und ohne dass ein Bewusstsein einer sozialtheoretischen
Gemeinsamkeit bestünde […]”: A. Reckwitz, Grundelemente, see note 5, p. 102. Reckwitz
offers a revealing series of examples from various disciplines that employ praxeological
models – from science and technology studies, organizational studies, gender studies, the
analysis of cultural globalization, and media studies, a series that could easily be extended
today, twenty years after this text was written.
16 Ibidem, p. 119.
24

search for ego documents attesting to such practices of the self has yet to be undertaken
and could yield revealing results.
Examinations of practices of work and practices of sociability, however,
abound in what follows. The essays treating the former investigate musicians who
play the violin, who sing or conduct at the opera, musicians who went on journeys
or emigrated to another country, as well as instrumental or vocal music educators,
music critics in newspapers and those who promoted young musicians through
recommendation. The chapters treating the latter field of everyday practices, explore
regular chamber music concerts in private homes in Budapest, private and
public meetings in Ljubljana, the exchange of sheet music and comments on it, as
well as dancing and private singing in rural Bohemia.
Reckwitz thinks that ethnography provides the “preferred research method”
for the reconstruction of practices, for instance what Clifford Geertz called “thick
description”. So, as Reckwitz suggests, let us take a “quasi-ethnographic look” at
the “strangeness, the contingency of the seemingly self-evident”.17 By placing ourselves
at a reflective distance, let us turn our attention to the small things and
prepare for the seemingly familiar to astonish us. The sources and texts comprising
this volume can be conceived as messages from an unfamiliar but fascinating
world.
17 Ibidem, p. 130.
25

Marko Motnik (Maribor)
EINE STADTCHRONIK
ODER EIN EGO-DOKUMENT?
Die Schilderungen des Musiklebens im Laibach der 1830er Jahre
in den Berichten von Franz Franz*
Das Archiv der Republik Slowenien in Laibach (heute Ljubljana) verwahrt eine
umfassende Sammlung von 1880 Briefen, die Franz Franz, ein Hauptmann im
Ruhestand, in den Jahren 1832 bis 1840 an Baron Josef Kalasanz von Erberg nach
Lusttal (heute Dol) sandte.1 Die Existenz dieser Briefsammlung ist zwar schon seit
langem bekannt,2 eine wissenschaftliche Auswertung blieb bisher aber aus.3 Der
Wert der Briefe wurde erst in den letzten Jahren erkannt und die Aufmerksamkeit
der Forschung darauf gelenkt.4 Obwohl aus dieser Zeit auch andere Ego-Dokumente
mit Nachrichten über das Laibacher Musikleben erhalten sind,5 sind Franz’
Schilderungen – wie in diesem Beitrag zu sehen sein wird – sowohl im Hinblick
auf das lokale Archivmaterial als auch im weiteren Sinne einzigartig.
Innerhalb weniger Monate entwickelte sich aus den anfänglich sporadischen
Briefen ein regelrechter Strom an Zuschriften. Über beinahe acht Jahre hinweg
schrieb Erbergs Korrespondent alltäglich Nachrichten über die politischen und
gesellschaftlichen Ereignisse in der Stadt Laibach, im Land Krain, gelegentlich
auch im Kaiserreich und anderswo in Europa nieder. Merkwürdigerweise wohnte
* Dieser Beitrag wurde im Rahmen des Forschungsprogramms „Research in the History of
Music in Slovenia“ (ARIS P6-0004) verfasst.
1 SI AS 730, Fasz. 46–47, Ljubljana, Arhiv Republike Slovenije, Graščina Dol. In diesem
Artikel werden die Briefe von Franz Franz lediglich mit dem entsprechenden Datum und
der Nummer zitiert, welche sich auf die kommende Edition beziehen.
2 Die Briefe aus den Jahren 1833–1837 wurden herangezogen in: Walter Šmid, Aus Alt Laibach,
in: Carniola: Mitteilungen des Musealvereins für Krain 2/3–4 (1909) S. 143–153.
3 Der einzige wissenschaftliche Beitrag bisher erschien im Jahr 1994 und befasst sich mit der
Mentalitätsgeschichte in der Krainischen Hauptstadt zur Biedermeierzeit. Peter Vodopivec,
Prispevek k zgodovini mentalitete na Slovenskem v času biedermaierja, in: Nemzetközi Kultúrtörténeti
Szimpozion Mogersdorf, 1990. A polgári világ a pannon térségben 1830 és 1867 között.
Szombathely 1994, S. 79–89.
4 Seit einigen Jahren beschäftigt der Inhalt der Briefe ein Forscher:innenteam unter der
Leitung von Dr. Miha Preinfalk am Forschungszentrum der Slowenischen Akademie der
Wissenschaften und Künste (ZRC SAZU). Das Team arbeitet an einer kritischen Edition
und Auswertung der Briefe. Die Veröffentlichung soll im Jahr 2024 erfolgen.
5 Zu nennen wäre hier beispielsweise die Korrespondenz der angesehenen Laibacher Familie
Terpinc (Terpinz), ediert (in deutscher Sprache) und kommentiert in: Nataša Budna
Kodrič, Korespondenca Jožefine in Fidelija Terpinc (1825–1858) (Objava arhivskih virov 41).
Ljubljana 2018.
27

der Empfänger mit seiner Familie lediglich etwa ein Dutzend Kilometer vom
Stadtzentrum entfernt. Obwohl Franz seinen Berichten über Vorkommnisse gelegentlich
auch eine Reflexion interessanter Ereignisse, Stadtgespräche sowie allerlei
Klatsch und Tratsch hinzufügte, scheint das Gesamtergebnis hauptsächlich eine
trockene und sachliche Chronik des Stadtlebens von Laibach zu sein. Als solche
hätten die Berichte auch einer gedruckten Zeitung entnommen werden können,
und in der Tat handelt es sich hier um eine Art Tageszeitung. Ihre Besonderheit
besteht jedoch darin, dass sie auf den Auftraggeber zugeschnitten war und wohl
von dessen gesamter Familie gelesen wurde.
Briefkorrespondenzen werden in der Regel zu den typischen Ego-Dokumenten
gezählt, doch muss in diesem speziellen Fall die Frage nach der Kategorisierung
gestellt werden: Welche Art von Ego-Dokumenten liegen mit den Briefen
von Franz tatsächlich vor und wie könnte man so einen Quellentyp charakterisieren?
Der deutsche Historiker Winfried Schulze definierte im Jahr 1996 Ego-
Dokumente als Quellen, in denen ein Subjekt Aussagen über sich selbst trifft, und
zwar sowohl explizit (absichtlich und intentional) als auch – und das zeigen die
Briefe von Franz besonders eindrucksvoll – implizit („in rudimentärer und verdeckter
Form“).6
DIE KORRESPONDENTEN
Die Briefe von Franz Franz, die zwischen Ende Juni 1833 und Ende August 1840
verfasst worden sind,7 sind an den Gelehrten, Historiker, Botaniker, Sammler und
Kunstmäzen Josef Kalasanz Freiherr von Erberg (1771–1843) gerichtet. Erberg erhielt
seine Ausbildung in Wien (1784–1792). Zurück in seiner Heimatstadt Laibach
trat er in den Staatsdienst ein und heiratete im Jahr 1794 Josephine Katarina Gräfin
von Attems (1778–1847). Nachdem seine Frau 1808 als Erzieherin an den kaiserlichen
Hof berufen worden war, zog die gesamte Familie nach Wien. Die Söhne
begannen ihre Ausbildung am Theresianum und Erberg selbst wurde 1809 zu einem
der Erzieher des Thronfolgers Erzherzog Ferdinand ernannt. Angeblich aufgrund
eines Nervenleidens trat er 1814 von dieser Stelle zurück und zog zurück
nach Krain. Er lebte fortan hauptsächlich und von der Außenwelt zunehmend
distanziert auf dem nahe gelegenen Schloss Lusttal und widmete sich dort seiner
6 Winfried Schulze, Ego-Dokumente. Annäherung an den Menschen in der Geschichte? Vorüberlegungen
für die Tagung „Ego-Dokumente“, in: Ego-Dokumente. Annäherung an den
Menschen in der Geschichte, hg. von Winfried Schulze. Berlin 1996, S. 28. Vgl. auch die
Einleitung von Gesa Finke im vorliegenden Band.
7 Aus dem Jahr 1832 ist nur ein Brief vom 20. 6. erhalten und vor dem Beginn der regelmäßigen
Berichterstattung am 18. 6. 1833 (1833/2) noch ein Brief vom 3. 4. 1833 (1833/1).
28

Sammeltätigkeit und seinen umfangreichen Studien. Das Lusttaler Schloss mit
einem botanischen Garten und einem Museum wurde zum Treffpunkt für den
Adel und die vornehmen Laibacher Bürger:innen; auch Besucher:innen aus dem
Ausland machten hier Halt. Der Landsitz beherbergte eine reiche Sammlung von
kunst- und naturhistorischen Schätzen, eine Bibliothek und ein Archiv. Von besonderer
Wertschätzung und dem Ansehen Erbergs zeugt auch die Tatsache, dass
ihn Erzherzog Ferdinand 1819 und während des Laibacher Kongresses 1821 das
Kaiserpaar persönlich in Lusttal besuchten. Obwohl Erberg die Öffentlichkeit
mehr und mehr mied und Lusttal immer seltener verließ, blieb er am aktuellen
Geschehen in seiner Umgebung stets interessiert.8 Durch Franz’ Briefe war er
wahrscheinlich besser über die Vorkommnisse in der Stadt im Bilde als so mancher
Einwohner von Laibach.
Über den pensionierten Hauptmann Franz Franz (1779–1840) ist bisher nicht
allzu viel bekannt. Er stammte aus Böhmen und schlug eine militärische Laufbahn
im Infanterieregiment Reuß-Plauen Nr. 17 ein. Nachdem er an mehreren
Feldzügen in den napoleonischen Kriegen teilgenommen hatte und 1815 bei einem
Feldzug in Frankreich schwer verwundet worden war, wurde er wegen Dienstunfähigkeit
pensioniert und lebte bis zu seinem Tod Ende August 1840 in Laibach.9
Wann und wo sich Franz und Erberg kennengelernt hatten, ist nicht bekannt,
jedenfalls wohnte Franz gegenüber von Erbergs Stadtwohnung am heutigen Neuen
Markt (Novi trg). Ein schriftlicher Vertrag zwischen den beiden Männern ist zwar
nicht überliefert, doch geht aus dem Inhalt der Briefe an mehreren Stellen hervor,
dass diese eifrige Berichterstattung auf Bestellung erfolgte und dass Franz für seine
Arbeit auch entlohnt wurde. Verschiedene Gefälligkeiten, die der Lusttaler Baron
dem pensionierten Hauptmann gewährte, sollten nicht darüber hinwegtäuschen,
dass es sich um ein recht offizielles Verhältnis handelte und Franz lediglich die
Rolle eines „treuen Dieners“ innehatte. Dementsprechend kann auch davon ausgegangen
werden, dass die Briefinhalte nach bestimmten Anweisungen und Vorlieben
des Auftraggebers ausgewählt wurden, welche jedoch in keiner schriftlichen
Formulierung vorliegen. Erbergs Verlangen nach Neuigkeiten aus den gesellschaftlichen
Kreisen Laibachs geht aus den Briefen deutlich hervor. Details über einzelne
Personen, ihre Familienmitglieder und ihre sozialen Netzwerke stehen eindeutig
im Mittelpunkt, während die Ereignisse (auch die musikalischen) für Franz eher
eine Kulisse bieten, vor der sich das Leben dieses Personenkreises abspielte.
8 Zur Biographie Erbergs siehe Miha Preinfalk, Josef Freiherr von Erberg – zwischen Zentrum
und Provinz, in: Provinz als Denk- und Lebensform. Der Donau-Karpatenraum im langen
19. Jahrhundert, hg. von Harald Heppner – Mira Miladinović Zalaznik. Frankfurt am
Main 2015, S. 213–227.
9 Siehe W. Šmid, siehe Anm. 2, S. 143.
29

Es sind keine Briefe von Erberg an Franz erhalten, so dass von einer Korrespondenz
eigentlich nicht die Rede sein kann. Die Inhalte lassen erkennen, dass die
Briefe nicht auf dem üblichen Postweg ins Lusttal geschickt wurden, sondern
Erberg eigens zu diesem Zweck einen Diener namens Andreas beschäftigte, welcher
neben anderen Waren auch die „Tageszeitung“ an den Baron lieferte. Umgekehrt
brachte Andreas für Franz Obst und Gemüse aus Erbergs Garten sowie
kleine Geschenke und Aufmerksamkeiten in die Stadt.
In seiner Position als Auftragnehmer ist es verständlich, dass sich Franz mit
persönlichen Wertungen und Kommentaren so weit wie möglich zurückhielt und
Erberg sich wohl ein eigenes Urteil auf der Basis der Berichte bilden wollte. Auch
wenn er zumeist auf persönliche Kommentare verzichtete, erlaubte Franz sich gelegentlich
auch ein paar spitze Bemerkungen. Seine eigenen Ansichten lassen sich
aus einer bestimmten Wortwahl und eher zwischen den Zeilen herauslesen. Ein
ironischer Ton ist beispielsweise 1837 im Kommentar zur Verlobung von Maria
Fluck von Leidenkron mit Baron Eduard Zois von Edelstein zu spüren, wenn
Franz feststellt:
Ganz unvermuthet bringt ein ziemlich glaubwürdiges Stadtgerücht eine
Braut zur Kenntnis. Das Fräulein Marie Flug will der junge Zois von
Gratz heurathen. Er hat an den Papa schriftliches Ansuchen um die Braut
gemacht, und die Gewährung ist außer Zweifel, da Bräutigam ein Fidei
Comiss von 80.000 f und Allodial vom [sic] 20.000 f besitzt. Er verlangt
die Braut ohne aller Ausstattung – wie sie ist – nur sie und ihr Forte
Piano.10
BRIEFINHALTE
Franz schrieb in seinen Berichten alles auf, was den Baron interessiert haben
könnte, und diese Auswahl ist oft überraschend, kurios und bizarr. Ein Ordnungssystem
in der Abfolge der Nachrichten ist nicht zu erkennen. Die Zuschriften
sollten sicherlich Erbergs Informationsbedürfnis und Neugier befriedigen, gleichzeitig
dienten sie aber wohl auch einer angenehmen Unterhaltung. Eines der
Hauptziele war sicherlich, die Gesellschaft und das soziale Leben der Elite in ihren
verschiedenen Erscheinungsformen widerzuspiegeln, was die Briefe zu einem beredten
Zeugnis des politischen, sozialen und kulturellen Lebens der Stadt Laibach
in den 1830er Jahren macht.
10 Brief vom 6. 10. 1837 (1837/224).
30

Offenbar genügte es Erberg nicht, zu lesen, was in den beiden damals erscheinenden
öffentlichen Tageszeitungen (Laibacher Zeitung und Illyrisches Blatt) berichtet
wurde, vielleicht hatte er diese gar nicht zur Hand. Vielmehr nahm Franz Auszüge
aus diesen und anderen Zeitungen in die Berichte auf, kommentierte und ergänzte
sie. Die Briefe enthalten nicht nur Nachrichten aus Laibach, sondern oft auch
Meldungen von auswärts. Aus mehreren Passagen geht hervor, dass Franz ein Netz
von Informanten aufgebaut hatte, die ihn mit Nachrichten versorgten. Es ist recht
deutlich, was Franz selbst hörte, sah und erlebte, was er den öffentlichen Zeitungen
entnahm, was ihm andere Leute berichteten und worüber man in der Stadt
sonst noch sprach und sich erzählte.
Die Berichte enthalten Vermerke über Personen, die die Stadt betraten und
verließen, einschließlich Angaben zu ihren Reisezielen. Regelmäßig wird über
Krankheiten, Unfälle, Todesfälle, Verlobungen, Eheschließungen, Geburten, Anstellungen,
Beförderungen und Pensionierungen berichtet. Aus den Briefen erfährt
man, wer an gesellschaftlichen Ereignissen teilnahm, wer sie ausrichtete, wer bei
Bällen und Verlosungen im Casino erschien, wer dort was gewann und was welche
Dame wo trug. Neben all dem blieb das Wetter ein Dauerthema. Selbst wenn es
nichts Neues zu berichten gab, schrieb Franz einen Brief, in dem er genau das mitteilte,
und wenn neue Nachrichten eintrafen, nachdem der Tagesbericht bereits
abgeschickt worden war, schrieb er noch am selben Tag einen Nachtrag.
Das Korrespondieren verlief auf zwei verschiedenen inhaltlichen Ebenen. Zwischen
den sachlichen Schilderungen, die ohne jede Anrede oder Grußformel sofort
zur Sache kommen, gab es regelmäßig auch Briefe, in denen Franz einen persönlichen
Ton anschlug und darin hauptsächlich seine Dankbarkeit, Ehrerbietung
und Dienstbarkeit beteuerte. Ein solches Beispiel mag hier zur Veranschaulichung
dienen:11
Eure Excellence
Küsse unterthänigst die Hand für die mir geäußerten gnädigen Gesinnungen,
um deren Fortdauer unterthänig bitte, und rastlos bestrebt bleiben
werde, deren würdig mich zu bezeigen. Wenn ich einmal so geordnet
seyn werde, wie ich es für meine Angelegenheit nothwendig gedenke,
werde ich um Eure Excellence gnädigsten Rath und wohlwollende Anleitung
bitten, und Hochdieselben bis zum Grabe als meinen einzigen Wohlthäter
hoch verehren, mit diesen treuen Gesinnungen ersterben:
Eure Excellence
Laibach den 27 Mai [1]835
unterthänigst dankbarster Franz Hptm.
11 Brief vom 27. 5. 1835 (1835/103).
31

DIE SCHILDERUNGEN DES MUSIKLEBENS
In den 1830er Jahren war Laibach eine relativ kleine Stadt mit rund 16.000 Einwohnern.
Die ständische Vertretung war in der Habsburgermonarchie der Ära
Metternich zur Ohnmacht verurteilt und ihre öffentlichen Aktivitäten wurden
stark eingeschränkt. Dennoch gab es ein reges gesellschaftliches Leben, in dem die
Musik eine wichtige Rolle spielte. Die Briefe von Franz liefern wertvolle Aufschlüsse
über die Pflege der Musik in städtischen Einrichtungen, im privaten Bereich
und auch im Freien. Obwohl er Konzerte, Opernveranstaltungen, Bälle und
private Feste nur selten detailliert beschrieb, zählte er sie regelmäßig auf und verriet
dabei Einzelheiten, die anderen Quellen nicht zu entnehmen sind. Zwischen
den Ankündigungen und kurzen Beschreibungen von Musikveranstaltungen
streute er allerlei Nachrichten über die Einwohner und Ereignisse in der Stadt ein.
Die Briefe sind weniger wegen ihrer detaillierten Darstellungen einzelner musikalischer
Veranstaltungen wertvoll als wegen ihrer chronologischen Kontinuität.
Insgesamt zeichnen sie das Bild eines zyklischen Geschehens, in dem sich öffentliche
und private musikalische Ereignisse Jahr für Jahr in ziemlich konstanten Abständen
wiederholten. Einerseits waren die Veranstaltungen durch die Jahreszeiten
und kirchlichen Feiern geprägt, andererseits wurden die Geburtstage und andere
Feste von Persönlichkeiten des öffentlichen Lebens und Beamten gefeiert, angefangen
von Kaiser und der Kaiserin über den Gouverneur von Illyrien bis hin zum
Polizeidirektor und anderen. Das musikalische Leben erreichte seinen jährlichen
Höhepunkt während des Faschings, als sich private Musikveranstaltungen, öffentliche
Konzerte und Tanzveranstaltungen dicht aneinanderreihten. Die Organisatoren
konkurrierten sogar miteinander oder versuchten, sich mit Hilfe von
Festkalendern zu koordinieren, wie es auch anhand des folgenden Briefs vom
29. Dezember 1833 (Nr. 1833/140) ersichtlich ist:
Laibach den 29 ten [Dezem] ber [1]833 Sontag
Theater Austheilung
vom 29 ten x ber bis 4 ten Jenner [1]834
Sontag den 29 ten x ber , Lumpaci Vagabundus
Montag den 30 ten [x] ber , Postwagens Abentheuer
Dienstag den 31 ten [x] ber , Sargines
Mittwoch [den] 1 ten Jenner [1]834 Garrick in Bristoll
Donnerstag den 2 ten [Jänner] wegen der Proben für
Freytag den 3 ten [Jänner], Wilh. Tell – verschlossen
Samstags den 4 ten [Jänner], Willhelm Tell
32

Die Theilnehmer des Casino’s – sind für den 3 ten Jenner [1]834 als Freytags
Nachmittags 3 Uhr zu einer General Versamlung im Deutschen Ordens
Saale eingeladen, bey welcher Gelegenheit die im Ausschusse bereits berathenen
und beschlossenen Statuten der Gesellschaft vorlesen [sic], und
die Anwesenden Mitglieder dann aufgefordert werden dürften, die Befolgung
und Zuhaltung derselben, mit Ihrer Unterschrift zu bestättigen, wodurch
den [sic] der völlige Beitritt zur Gesellschaft – erklärt seyn wird.
Die Eröffnung des Casino’s wird Dienstags den 7 ten Jenner [1]834 statt
finden, und es soll das Arrangement getroffen seyn, daß hinkünftig die
Casino Bäle jeden Montag – die 14 tägigen Soirés bei Sr Exc. dem Herrn
Gouverneur jedesmal am Dienstag statt finden sollen, am Mittwoche
würde dann die gewöhnliche Redute seyn. –
Die Schießstatt Bäle bleiben wie sonst, an jeden Montage.
Sollte es sich ergeben, welches dem Berichterstatter vor der Hand noch
unbekannt ist, daß bey H. Präsidenten Buzzi die Unterhaltungen jeden
Sontag in 14 Tagen, und bey H. Grafen v. Welsperg, welches dem Berichterstatter
gleichfalls noch unbekannt ist –, jeden Donnerstag statt finden,
so wären die Faschingswochen vom Sontag bis einschlüssig Donnerstags
zu Unterhaltungen gewidmet, und nur der Freytag mit dem Samstag zum
Ausruhen erübrigt seyn. Die Dienstage, wo bei Sr Excellenz dem
H. Gouverneur und die Sontage, wo bei H. Präsidenten Buzzi keine Gesellschaft
wäre, bleiben zu Unterhaltungen, welche andere Familien besonders
geben würden. –
Heute am Sontage hat der Canonicus Crisoni eine Abendgesellschaft
zu sich geladen, an welcher die Familien: vom H. Gouverneur –,
Br Codelli –, Gräfin Cöcile Lichtenberg –, der Fürstbischof etz. theil nehmen
werden.
Mittwoch den ersten Jenner ist Abends große Gesellschaft bei
Sr Excellenz dem H. Gouvern:
Die Lektüre des gesamten Briefkorpus legt nahe, dass Franz die meisten seiner
Informationen durch Bekannte oder persönliche Begegnungen im Kreis der
Laibacher Casino-Gesellschaft erhielt. Er war dort offenbar ein regelmäßiger Besucher
und fasste möglicherweise im dortigen Lesesaal Nachrichten aus lokalen
und ausländischen Zeitungen zusammen. Schließlich war das Casino auch ein
Leseclub.12 Franz beschrieb das Tagesgeschehen und die Organisationsstrukturen
dieser Gesellschaft so detailliert wie regelmäßig. Er interessierte sich sehr für das
12 Siehe Kapitel „Musik im Casino“ weiter unten.
33

Geschehen im Ständetheater, während er den Konzerten und Akademien der Philharmonischen
Gesellschaft weit weniger Aufmerksamkeit schenkte und vielleicht
auch keinen Zugang zu internen Informationen hatte.
Die von Franz erwähnten Musikveranstaltungen lassen sich grob in zwei Arten
aufteilen: Nachrichten über das institutionalisierte Musikleben (Theaterveranstaltungen,
Konzerte und Bälle) und Nachrichten über die Musik in den privaten
Kreisen des Adels und – etwas seltener – des Bürgertums. Dass eine Trennung
zwischen öffentlichen und privaten Veranstaltern oft nicht zweckmäßig ist, zeigt
sich besonders deutlich bei Veranstaltungen, die in den Wohnungen von Amtsträgern
stattfanden, wie beispielsweise dem Haus des Gouverneurs Joseph Camillo
von Schmidburg oder des Polizeidirektors Leopold Sicard.13
Insgesamt entwarf Franz in seinen Briefen ein buntes Klangbild der Stadt und
bezog auch regelmäßig Musik an öffentlichen Plätzen in seine Berichte ein. Diese
wurden meist von den Militärkapellen der damals in Laibach stationierten Regimente
gespielt. Um seine persönlichen Ansichten und den Standpunkt des Briefempfängers
zu verstehen, muss jedoch auch nach Informationen gefragt werden,
die in den Briefen nicht enthalten sind. Es werden hauptsächlich elitäre Kreise der
Gesellschaft abgebildet, denen Baron Erberg ja auch selbst angehörte. Franz erwähnt
weder die Musik in Gasthäusern oder bei Volksfesten noch die Musik bei
Gottesdiensten und berichtet gar nicht über das religiöse Leben. Kurze Hinweise
auf Messen mit Musik anlässlich des Todes wichtiger Persönlichkeiten oder auf
feierliche Aufführungen des Te Deum bei politisch wichtigen Anlässen sind seltene
Ausnahmen. Die Lücken in der Berichterstattung beziehen sich aber auch auf Ereignisse,
die Franz schilderte, ohne dabei die Musik mit einem einzigen Wort zu
erwähnen.
MUSIK IM STÄNDETHEATER
Das seit Mitte der 1760er Jahre in Laibach existierende Ständetheater bot seinem
Publikum eine bunte Auswahl an deutschen Dramen, unterhaltsamen Schauspielen
mit musikalischen Einlagen und künstlerisch anspruchsvollen Opern. Die
Opern stellten einen der Höhepunkte des städtischen Musiklebens dar, waren aber
ein hohes finanzielles Risiko für die Impresarios. In Franz’ Berichten nahm das
13 Siehe Volker Timmermann – Freia Hoffmann, Im Spannungsfeld von „privat“ und „öffentlich“.
Musikalische Salons im deutschsprachigen Raum und in Paris, in: Musikwissenschaft: die
Teildisziplinen im Dialog. Beitragsarchiv zur Jahrestagung der Gesellschaft für Musikforschung
Halle/Saale 2015, hg. von Wolfgang Auhagen – Wolfgang Hirschmann. Mainz 2016, http://
schott-campus.com/gfm-jahrestagung-2015, abgerufen am 21. Jul. 2023.
34

Geschehen im Theater einen breiten Raum ein. Aus den Briefen geht hervor, dass
Baron Erberg Franz sogar den Schlüssel zu seiner Theaterloge überließ und im
Gegenzug wohl Nachrichten über das Geschehen im Theater erwartete.14
In Laibach wurden regelmäßig Opernwerke inszeniert, und ihre Auswahl war
mit der Mode der Zeit und dem Repertoire anderer Häuser völlig im Einklang.15
Laibach stand den anderen, mitunter viel größeren Städten des Kaiserreichs in
dieser Hinsicht wohl um nichts nach.16 Wie anderswo ging auch hier die Popularität
von Gioachino Rossini in den 1830er Jahren zu Ende. Sein Platz wurde rasch
von den Komponisten Vincenzo Bellini und Gaetano Donizetti eingenommen,
von letzterem in Laibach allerdings etwas später als anderswo. Bellinis Norma,
Montecchi e Capuleti und La sonnambula lösten beim Laibacher Publikum große
Begeisterung aus.17 Das Repertoire des Ständetheaters umfasste auch aktuelle
Werke der französischen Komponisten Daniel-François-Esprit Auber, André
François Boieldieu, Louis-Joseph Ferdinand Hérold und auch Giacomo Meyerbeer
in deutscher Übersetzung. Das Theaterangebot war vielfältig, aber bei weitem
nicht jedes Werk konnte das besondere Interesse des Publikums wecken.
Das Ständetheater hatte stets mit enormen wirtschaftlichen Schwierigkeiten
zu kämpfen. Die Direktion wies immer wieder auf den ungünstigen Umstand hin,
dass fast alle der 52 Theaterlogen in Privatbesitz waren und sich dies durchwegs
negativ auf die finanziellen Einnahmen auswirkte. In der Praxis bedeutete dies,
dass kein Theaterunternehmer länger als ein oder zwei Jahre in Laibach arbeiten
konnte, ohne früher oder später in finanzielle Schwierigkeiten zu geraten. Die Tatsache,
dass die Oper fast immer ein Verlustgeschäft ist, traf hier im besonderen
Maße zu. In der Zeit von Franz’ Schilderungen wechselten sich sechs verschiedene
Theaterdirektoren ab, die alle ihre Verträge vorzeitig kündigen mussten. Ferdinand
Funk war der Unternehmer mit der längsten Amtszeit und leitete das Haus
drei der ursprünglich geplanten sechs Jahre. Obwohl er über ausreichendes (eigenes)
Finanzkapital verfügte und dieses durch die gleichzeitige Leitung des Theaters
in Klagenfurt vermehrt hatte, wechselte er auf der Suche nach besseren Verdienstmöglichkeiten
nach drei Jahren nach Graz. Er machte die geringe finanzielle
14 „Nachdem ich Ihrer Excellenz meinen schuldigen Dank für den Logenschlüssel mündlich
erstattet, fühle ich mich gleichermassen verpflichtet –, auch Eure Excellenz für diese Gnade
meinen unterthänigen Dank zu Füssen zu legen […]“. Brief vom 17. 9. 1833 (1833/41).
15 Siehe P. Vodopivec, siehe Anm. 3, S. 81 f.
16 Vgl. Jože Sivec, Opera v Stanovskem gledališču v Ljubljani od leta 1790 od 1861. Ljubljana 1971,
S. 94–120.
17 Vgl. Jože Sivec, Opera na ljubljanskih odrih od klasicizma do 20. stoletja. Izbrana poglavja,
hg. von Metoda Kokole – Klemen Grabnar. Ljubljana 2010, S. 123–134.
35

Unterstützung bei allzu hohen Erwartungen des Publikums dafür verantwortlich.
Die zweijährige Leitung des Theaters durch Amalia Maschek wurde der Theaterunternehmerin
zum Verhängnis und stürzte sie und ihre gesamte Familie in den
finanziellen Ruin.
Die schwierige finanzielle Lage wirkte sich nicht immer direkt auf die Qualität
des Opernensembles und des Repertoires aus. Im Gegenteil, es gab einige echte
Höhepunkte, vor allem während der Intendanz von Funk. Die Impresarios waren,
nachdem sie die künstlerische Leitung des Theaters übernommen hatten, immer
besonders enthusiastisch und taten ihr Bestes, den Erwartungen des Publikums zu
entsprechen. Sie verfolgten unterschiedliche Strategien und versuchten, ein Gleichgewicht
zwischen neuen und etablierten Opern im Repertoire zu halten. Bei der
Suche nach fähigen Solisten hatten sie oft kein Glück, und gelegentlich konnten
geeignete Sänger einfach nicht nach Laibach verpflichtet werden. Die Gagen, die
erfahrenen Solisten hier geboten werden konnten, waren nicht besonders attraktiv.
Mehr als das Geschehen auf der Opernbühne behielt Franz die wechselnden
Impresarios18 und vor allem die Solistinnen und Solisten im Auge. Die Primadonnen
genossen schon immer einen besonderen und oft zweifelhaften Ruhm, und es
ist nicht verwunderlich, dass auch Franz ein besonderes Interesse an ihnen zeigte.
Er beschäftigte sich zum Beispiel mit Caroline Hanal, die in der Saison 1835/36 in
Laibach engagiert war.19 Als im Sommer 1836 in der Stadt eine Choleraepidemie
ausbrach, weigerte sich Hanal unter diesen Umständen ihr Engagement im Herbst
zu verlängern.20 Allerdings benutzte sie vermutlich die Epidemie nur als Vorwand
für die ihr nicht mehr ausreichenden Gagen.21 Über die kapriziöse Sopranistin, die
sich weigerte, mehr als einmal pro Woche aufzutreten, berichtete Franz bereits im
März 1836.22 An ihrer Stelle kam im November 1836 die nicht weniger anspruchsvolle
Hofopernsängerin Marie Ehnes aus Wien. Nach einer beispiellosen Zuneigung
des Laibacher Publikums, das ihr laut Franz’ Aussagen mit Geschenken,
Einladungen und sogar poetischen Schöpfungen huldigte,23 hatte Ehnes bereits
18 Zwischen 1832 und 1840 waren am Ständetheater folgende Impresarios tätig: Eduard Neufeld
und Heinrich Börnstein (1832/33), Amalia Maschek (1833/34 und 1834/35), Franz Anton
Zwoneczek (1835/36), Ferdinand Funk (1836/37 und 1837/38) und Josef Glöggl (1839/40).
19 Siehe J. Sivec, siehe Anm. 16, S. 106.
20 Briefe vom 20. 8., 8. und 14. 9. 1836 (1836/179, 199 und 201).
21 Briefe vom 2. 3. und 4. 4. 1836 (1836/38 und 66).
22 Brief vom 2. 3. 1836 (1836/38).
23 Beispielsweise Briefe vom 15. 11. und 23. 12. 1836 (1836/260 und 296). Ein gedrucktes Sonett
mit der Aufschrift Der k. k. Hofopernsängerin Dlle. Marie Ehnes befindet sich zusammen
mit dem Programmheft für die Aufführung von Bellinis La sonnambula im Nationalmuseum
von Slowenien: Comedien-Zettel Sammlung, III 13085/19, Ljubljana, Narodni
muzej Slovenije. Siehe J. Sivec, siehe Anm. 16, S. 109.
36

Ende Februar 1837 mit einer zynischen Bemerkung kundgetan, „daß die Klagenfurther
weit mehr – als die Laibacher – die Kunst zu schätzen wissen“24 und reiste
nach Kärnten ab.
Wie in kleineren Regionaltheatern üblich, mussten die Sänger:innen in
Laibach in Schauspielen und Singspielen auftreten, während die Schauspieler:innen
an der Oper mitwirken mussten, wo sie meist im Chor sangen. Nur die besten
Gesangssolisten und -solistinnen hatten das Privileg, ausschließlich Opernrollen
zu singen. Was die Instrumentalisten anbelangte, so war eine enge Zusammenarbeit
zwischen dem Theater und der Philharmonischen Gesellschaft schon lange
üblich gewesen. Der Chor wurde durch einheimische Sängerinnen und Sänger
ergänzt. Bei den Bläsern folgte das Theater der auch andernorts üblichen Praxis,
Instrumentalisten aus Militärkapellen anzuwerben. Wenn in Laibach kein Regiment
stationiert war, mussten die Impresarios professionelle Bläser aus anderen
Städten engagieren, oder die Opern konnten schlichtweg nicht aufgeführt werden.25
Die relativ bescheidene Zahl der jeweils in Laibach anwesenden Solisten
hatte einen starken Einfluss auf das Repertoire. Erkrankungen kamen vor allem
während der Herbst- und Wintersaison häufig vor. Da so kurzfristig kaum je
Ersatz gefunden werden konnte, waren Änderungen im Spielplan an der Tagesordnung.
Hierfür sind Franz’ Berichte für die Forschungen zum Theaterleben
Laibachs besonders informativ.
Franz macht immer wieder deutlich, dass die Suche nach geeigneten Sänger:innen
für die Laibacher Bühne den Theaterunternehmern große Schwierigkeiten
bereitete. Es war fast eine Konstante, dass im September, als die Opernaufführungen
längst mit der neuen Theatersaison hätten beginnen sollen, die Solisten
noch nicht einmal eingetroffen waren. Oft musste der Beginn der Opernsaison
verschoben werden, oder die Solisten erschienen erst in letzter Minute vor der Premiere.
Es ist erstaunlich, wie schnell viele Opern einstudiert und aufgeführt wurden.
Auch wenn man sich kein klares Bild von der Qualität der Aufführungen und
den damaligen Erwartungen des Publikums machen kann, ist die wiederholt geäußerte
allgemeine Unzufriedenheit unter solchen Umständen kaum verwunderlich.
Obwohl Franz Baron Erberg allwöchentlich einen Spielplan zusandte, zeigen
seine weiteren Erläuterungen, wie improvisiert es im Theater zuging.
Gelegentlich versuchten die Impresarios ihre Einnahmen mit kurzen Gastauftritten
international gefragter und berühmter Sängerinnen und Sänger aufzubessern.
Diese stellten das Publikum in der Regel auch zufrieden. Die Bevölkerung
konnte die Gastspiele der Tenöre Franz Jäger (1834) und Franz Wild (1839) und vor
allem der Sopranistin Maria Frisch, die im Oktober 1839 in Laibach auftrat und im
24 Brief vom 27. 2. 1837 (1837/36).
25 Brief vom 9. 11. 1837 (1837/255).
37

Frühjahr 1840 dorthin zurückkehrte, kaum erwarten.26 Auffällig an den Briefen
von Franz ist, dass er die Gastauftritte zwar mehrfach angekündigt hatte, später
aber kaum im Detail darauf einging.
Detaillierte Besprechungen von Opern blieben bei Franz eher Ausnahmen.
Mehr als einige Zeilen über die allgemeine (Un-)Zufriedenheit des Publikums mit
Opernaufführungen und somit den allgemeinen (Miss-)Erfolg schrieb Franz lediglich
für die Opern Zampa am 22. September 1833, Die Stumme von Portici am
24. Oktober 1833, Elise und Claudio am 11. Dezember 1833 und als Ausnahme noch
für Die Nachtwandlerin am 24. September 1837.27 Auch über Schauspiele berichtete
Franz lediglich im Herbst 1833, stellte dann aber die ausführlichen Rezensionen
von Theateraufführungen ein. Möglicherweise folgte er den Anweisungen von
Baron Erberg, der sich vielleicht doch nicht für Franz’ Theaterkritik interessierte.
Jedenfalls decken sich Franz’ Beschreibungen nicht mit den im Illyrischen Blatt
veröffentlichten Rezensionen. Da dieses Blatt das einzige in Laibach war, das regelmäßig
Besprechungen von Opern veröffentlichte, ist es ausgeschlossen, dass
Franz diese lediglich zusammenfasste.28 Dies zeigt sich auch im Inhalt der Rezensionen,
die sich einer weitaus direkteren Sprache bedienen, als man es von gedruckten
Rezensionen erwartet:
Laibach den 24 ten [Okto] bris [1]833 Donnerstags
Gestern Mittwochs wurde „die Stumme von Portici“ im hiesigen Theater
gegeben. Die Stumme ließ noch viel zu wünschen übrig. Mesaniello,
H. Harm, scheint etwas Bühnen Gewandheit zu besitzen, – allein seine
Stimme ist zu schwach, zu matt. Im Forte übertäubt das Orchester die
Stimme, und man hört nichts vom Gesang. – Herr Hüttel, abermal
Alfonso – singt und memorirt noch immer so schlecht und befangen, als
sonst, und Madame Ney – zerrte den Mund gestern gräßlich – denn es
scheint, daß der Parth der Elvire für Sie zu hoch geschrieben ist, daher es
Anstrengung bedurfte und Sie sich sonach mit den gewissen Streck- oder
Gurgelrollaten behalf. Einige Chöre gingen gut, auch waren die Aufzüge
und Gruppierungen, so wie die Garderobe befriedigend, in Summa aber
das ganze Spiel matt, obgleich man in der bekannten Scene den Mesaniello
mit einem Schimmel abhollt, und im Triumphzug davon reiten läßt, an
dessen Seite die stumme Fenella sehr ungeschickt zu Fuß mitgehet.
26 Vgl. die Rezensionen in Carniolia Nr. 63, 6. 12. 1839, S. 252; Nr. 67, 20. 12. 1839, S. 271 f. und
Nr. 96, 30. 3. 1840, S. 400.
27 Briefe vom 24. 10. und 11. 12. 1833 (1833/74 und 122) und 24. 9. 1837 (1837/213).
28 Vgl. z. B. die Rezension der Oper Die Stumme von Portici in Illyrisches Blatt Nr. 43, 26. 10. 1833,
S. 176 und den Brief vom 24. 10. 1833 (1833/74), oder die Rezension der Oper Elise und Claudio
in Illyrisches Blatt Nr. 50, 14. 12. 1833, S. 204 und den Brief vom 11. 12. 1833 (1833/122).
38

Man applaudirte den Mesaniello und der Elvire einigemal, und Sie wurden
am Ende mit Fenella geruffen! – Das Schlummerlied des Mesaniello, wo
es keiner starken Stimme bedarf, und das Orchester im Piano spielt –,
wurde besonders applaudirt, daher die Urtheile über den neuen Tenoristen
noch verschieden, jedoch darinn bereits übereinstimmend sind, daß er
eine schwache Stimme besitzt. – Pietro sein Freund (H. Hölzel) sang mit
mehr Sicherheit, welches wahrnehmen läßt, daß er mehr, als H. Harm,
musickalisch ist. – […]29
KONZERTE DER PHILHARMONISCHEN GESELLSCHAFT
Der bei weitem wichtigste und eigentlich einzige Träger des Laibacher öffentlichen
Konzertlebens in den 1830er Jahren war die hier seit langem etablierte Philharmonische
Gesellschaft. Sie veranstaltete Konzerte und Musikakademien, meist freitags
im Saal des Deutschritterhauses und gelegentlich auch im Redoutensaal. Seltener
wurden in der Kirche St. Jakob groß angelegte sakrale Werke mit Vokal- und
Instrumentalbegleitung aufgeführt.30 Der Ruhm der Philharmonischen Gesellschaft
reichte weit über die Grenzen der Stadt und des Landes Krain hinaus. Sie
spielte eine wichtige Rolle bei der Vernetzung und brachte in ihrer langen Reihe
von Mitgliedern sowohl professionelle Musiker als auch Musikliebhaber hervor,
die sich entweder selbst aktiv musikalisch betätigten oder die Arbeit der Gesellschaft
anderweitig unterstützten.
Obwohl er selbst Mitglied der Philharmonischen Gesellschaft war,31 schenkte
Franz ihren musikalischen Produktionen und Veranstaltungen keine besondere
Aufmerksamkeit. Auch wenn dies ein deutliches Zeichen der Selektion zu sein
scheint, ist nicht ersichtlich, warum gerade die Konzerte der Philharmonischen
Gesellschaft für den Briefschreiber oder -empfänger von geringerem Interesse sein
sollten. Die Konzertprogramme sind nicht vollständig überliefert, sodass nicht alle
aufgeführten Konzerte bekannt sind. Ein Vergleich der Erwähnungen von Franz
mit den erhaltenen Programmzetteln in der Musiksammlung der National- und
Universitätsbibliothek (NUK) und mit Konzertankündigungen in den Tages-
29 Brief vom 24. 10. 1833 (1833/74).
30 Franz kündigt die Aufführung des Oratoriums Die sieben letzten Worte unseres Erlösers am
Kreuze von Joseph Haydn im Brief vom 28. 3. 1834 (1834/70) an. Die Aufführung Der
Jahreszeiten im Februar 1839 bewertete er negativ mit der Begründung, der Chor sei zu
schwach gewesen; siehe Brief vom 2. 2. 1839 (1839/22).
31 Franz ist unter den Mitgliedern der Philharmonischen Gesellschaft erstmals im Jahr 1822
gelistet: Schematismus des Laibacher Gouvernement-Gebieths für das Jahr 1822. Laibach
[1822], S. 368.
39

lättern zeigt, dass Franz zwischen 1833 und 1840 nicht einmal die Hälfte der heute
bekannten 86 Konzerte und Musikakademien erwähnte.32 Zieht man von dieser
Zahl die Hinweise ab, in denen er beiläufig das „gewöhnliche“ Konzert der Gesellschaft
nannte, bleiben nur noch wenige substantielle Beschreibungen übrig. Die
Auswahl der Konzerte, die er für erwähnenswert hielt, scheint nicht zufällig zu
sein. Musikakademien anlässlich der Geburtstage und Namenstage des Kaisers
oder des Gouverneurs Schmidburg ließ er nie aus, und auch Wohltätigkeitsveranstaltungen
der Philharmonischen Gesellschaft erwähnte er immer wieder. Auch
die explizite Nennung von Interpretinnen und Interpreten dürfte nicht zufällig
sein, da er meist nur die Namen von Familienmitgliedern öffentlich tätiger und
bedeutender beziehungsweise von solchen Personen notierte, die möglicherweise
zum unmittelbaren sozialen Umfeld des Barons Erberg gehörten. Da die gedruckten
Konzertprogramme oft keine Namen der Ausführenden enthalten, finden sich
dazu in den Briefen stellenweise willkommene Ergänzungen.
Franz’ Hauptanliegen war es also, ein lokales Netzwerk sichtbar zu machen.
Das erklärt auch, warum die Erwähnung auswärtiger Musiker – auch solcher von
internationalem Rang – für ihn weitgehend entbehrlich war.33 So vermerkte er für
das Konzert am 4. September 1835 nicht einmal den Namen des Prager Pianisten
Anton Brager, fügte aber hinzu, dass der Virtuose angesichts des letzten Punktes
auf dem Programm der Aufgabe offensichtlich gewachsen sei.34 An dieser Stelle
listet das gedruckte Programm Improvisationen über ein Thema auf, das Brager
vom Publikum vorgegeben wurde.35 Bei den beiden Konzerten von Georg Micheuz
am 14. Oktober und 2. November 1836 hielt es Franz für wichtig, die Nationalität
des Pianisten zu betonen und darauf hinzuweisen, dass das Konzert von einem
Krainer gespielt wurde.36 Über die beiden Auftritte, die das Publikum offenbar
32 Zu Konzertprogrammen aus den Jahren 1832–1840 siehe Primož Kuret, Ljubljanska filharmonična
družba 1794–1919. Kronika ljubljanskega glasbenega življenja v stoletju meščanov in
revolucij. Ljubljana 2005, S. 531–553. Diese und weitere Daten zu Konzerten sind in der
Datenbank INMUS, The Concert Database zu finden, https://inmus.zrc-sazu.si/concerts/,
abgerufen am 21. Jul. 2023. Die Datenbank soll demnächst zu MUSIQUM, A Digital
Panorama oft he 19th Century Music Heritage in Slovenia umgewandelt werden.
33 Zu Solisten bei den Konzerten der Philharmonischen Gesellschaft siehe Sara Železnik,
Solisti na koncertih Filharmonične družbe do leta 1872, in: Muzikološki zbornik 49/1 (2013)
S. 25–55.
34 Brief vom 5. 9. 1835 (1835/155).
35 NUK, Archiv der Philharmonischen Gesellschaft, Programme, 4. 9. 1835, http://www.dlib.
si/?URN=URN:NBN:SI:DOC-2493OMHU, abgerufen am 21. Jul. 2023.
36 „Heute gibt der vaterländische Tondichter (so nennt er sich gewöhnlich) Micheuz im Deutschen
Ordens Hause ein Concert.“ Brief vom 2. 11. 1836 (1836/248); siehe auch den Brief vom
14. 10. 1836 (1836/230). Die Ankündigungen des Konzerts finden sich in: Intelligenz-Blatt
zur Laibacher Zeitung Nr. 122, 11. 10. 1836, S. 771 und Nr. 123, 13. 10. 1837, S. 775.
40

esonders begeisterten, hat Franz nichts zu sagen. Erst aus einer Rezension in der
Wiener Allgemeinen Theaterzeitung erfährt man, dass der Komponist und Virtuose
Micheuz zum ersten Mal seit elf Jahren wieder seine Heimatstadt besucht und bei
den Konzerten vielen Beifall geerntet hatte. Der Rezensent fügt hinzu: „Namentlich
erregte sein Clavierspielen mit dem Ellbogen, mit welchen er, das Spiel der
beiden Hände im Basse begleitend, Sprünge und sogar chromatische Läufe mit
einer bewundernswerten Reinheit ausführte, allgemeine Sensation.“37 Seltsamerweise
erwähnt Franz diese Kuriosität mit keinem Wort. Noch Jahrzehnte später
(1862) führte Friedrich Keesbacher Micheuz’ Konzert als Beispiel für den allgemeinen
Verfall des Musikgeschmacks in den 1830er Jahren an.38
MUSIK IM CASINO
Mit seinen Ausführungen über das Casino schlägt Franz ein bisher völlig unbekanntes
Kapitel im kulturellen Leben von Laibach auf. Die Casinogesellschaft, die
hier bereits vor 1775 existierte und in den folgenden Jahrzehnten mehrfach umstrukturiert
wurde, war ursprünglich ein Leseclub der oberen Gesellschaftsschichten.
Dieser geschlossene Kreis diente der Pflege sozialer und geschäftlicher Kontakte
und dem Informationsaustausch. Bereits 1810, zur Zeit der französischen
Regierung, hatte die Gesellschaft die Idee einer gehobenen gesellschaftlichen
Unterhaltung in ihre Statuten geschrieben. Zunächst trafen sich die Mitglieder in
einem Gebäude am Hauptplatz, später in einem Privathaus in der Herrengasse, in
dem aus Platzmangel keine größeren Veranstaltungen abgehalten werden konnten.
Bei ihrer Reorganisation Mitte 1834 setzte die Gesellschaft die Förderung der Bildung
an die Spitze ihrer Agenden. In einer Generalversammlung beschloss sie, ein
eigenes Gebäude am Kongressplatz zu errichten. Die Bauarbeiten begannen 1836
und wurden zwei Jahre später abgeschlossen.39
Die Funktionen und Ziele des Casinos sind heute nur schwer zu fassen. Nach
außen hin war der Club mit der Organisation einer Reihe von Gesellschaftsabenden,
Bällen, Tombolas, Wohltätigkeitsveranstaltungen und allerlei geselligen
37 Allgemeine Theaterzeitung und Originalblatt für Kunst, Literatur, und geselliges Leben Nr. 212,
22. 10. 1836, S. 847.
38 Siehe Friedrich Keesbacher, Die philharmonische Gesellschaft in Laibach seit dem Jahre ihrer
Gründung 1702 bis zu ihrer letzten Umgestaltung 1862. Eine geschichtliche Skizze, Laibach
1862, S. 79.
39 Siehe Ivan Lah. Ob stoletnici ljubljanske Kazine, in: Kronika slovenskih mest 3/3 (1936)
S. 182 f. und 3/4 (1936) S. 201–206.
41

Zusammenkünften aktiv; sein eigentlicher Zweck scheint jedoch der Pflege sozialer
Netzwerke sowie dem Informationsaustausch im Wirtschafts-, Politik- und Sozialbereich
sowie in der Kultur und Wissenschaft gedient zu haben.
Versammlungen im Casino fanden während des Winters montags statt. Dazu
gehörten Bälle und Tanzveranstaltungen, vor allem aber auch Tombolas, die Franz
besonders eifrig verfolgte. Er verfasste minutiöse Namenslisten von Gewinnern
samt den Objekten, die sie erspielten. Die Pflege und Förderung der Musik gehörte
sicher nicht zu den Hauptaufgaben dieses Clubs, doch begleitete Musik häufig
seine Zusammenkünfte, Veranstaltungen und Feste. Dabei scheint es sich nicht
um eigentliche Konzerte gehandelt zu haben, sondern um gelegentliche Auftritte
von Instrumentalisten oder Sängern zur bloßen Unterhaltung der Besucher. Die
von Franz erwähnten musikalischen Darbietungen im Vereinslokal sind jedoch
eher zufällig und kamen wahrscheinlich viel häufiger vor.
Das Casino nimmt in den Berichten von Franz einen zentralen Platz ein und
Informationen über die Aktivitäten dieses Clubs sind verhältnismäßig ausführlich.
Es liegt auf der Hand, dass das Casino ein Knotenpunkt der gehobenen Laibacher
Gesellschaft war, wo auch Franz selbst verkehrte. Auf jeden Fall war es ein Ort, an
dem Neuigkeiten aus dem Stadtleben zusammenliefen und aus dem Franz schöpfen
konnte.
MUSIK IM PRIVATEN BEREICH
Franz berichtet häufig von Zusammenkünften (den sogenannten Gesellschaften),
Dinners und Soireen in vornehmen Häusern, doch sind hier seine Hinweise auf
die Rolle der Musik meistens nur beiläufig und eher selten. Es ist fraglich, ob Franz
überhaupt Zugang zu diesen Privaträumen hatte oder über die dort stattfindenden
Veranstaltungen nur vom Hörensagen wusste und berichtete. Bei den Zusammenkünften
in den Salons des Adels und des Bürgertums lässt sich die Grenze zwischen
privat und öffentlich nicht immer trennscharf ziehen, da viele Veranstaltungen
zwar einem größeren Besucherkreis offenstanden, wohl aber nur geladenen
Gästen zugänglich waren.
Über die Musik in den Salons und Privathäusern von Laibach ist bisher wenig
bekannt. Das Thema ist weitgehend unerforscht, und das Archivmaterial scheint
weder besonders umfangreich noch leicht zugänglich zu sein. Dennoch lassen sich
vor allem in den privaten Korrespondenzen genügend Hinweise finden, die zumindest
darauf hindeuten. Indirekt weisen auch die Verkaufsanzeigen von Musikhändlern
in den Zeitungen auf ein reges Musikleben in der privaten Sphäre hin.
Diese boten den gebildeten Schichten eine relativ reiche Auswahl an Musik drucken
und -manuskripten von sogenannter Salonmusik. Auch dass die Kompositionen
wichtigen Persönlichkeiten des städtischen Lebens, vor allem aber deren Ehefrauen
42

und Kindern gewidmet wurden, ist ein wichtiges Indiz für die Musikliebhaberkreise.40
Unter den Persönlichkeiten, die dem Laibacher Musikleben starke Impulse
verliehen, ist vor allem der Gouverneur von Illyrien, Joseph Camillo von Schmidburg
(1779–1846), hervorzuheben. Bald nach seiner Versetzung von Klagenfurt
nach Laibach im Jahr 1822 begann er, seine Zuneigung zur Musik und zu den
schönen Künsten zu demonstrieren. Er war eng mit der Philharmonischen Gesellschaft
verbunden, die ihm 1823 das Ehrenamt des Protektors verlieh. Dieses Amt
behielt er bis zu seiner Abreise aus Laibach im Jahr 1840.41 Die Philharmonische
Gesellschaft hatte verständlicherweise allen Grund, sich um die Gunst des Gouverneurs
zu bemühen und feierte seine Ankunft bereits im Oktober 1822 mit einer
feierlichen Akademie. Von da an veranstaltete sie jedes Jahr um den 19. März ein
Konzert, um seinen Namenstag zu feiern.42 Schmidburg war selbst musikalisch
interessiert und ein häufiger Besucher der Konzerte. Im Jahr 1827 initiierte er die
Gründung einer Laientheatergruppe, die unter der Leitung und Organisation des
Ehepaars Maschek mehrere Theaterstücke und mindestens sieben Opern im Saal
der Philharmonischen Gesellschaft aufführte.43 Bei besonderen Anlässen erlaubte
Schmidburg seinen Kindern, ihr musikalisches Talent öffentlich in Gesellschaftskonzerten
zu zeigen. Mit solchen Auftritten wollte er die oberen Gesellschaftsschichten
zur Nachahmung anregen.44
Von seinen sechs Kindern war die Tochter Elise Schmidburg (1811–1838) wahrscheinlich
diejenige, die sich am meisten der Musik widmete. Ihren ersten öffentlichen
Auftritt als Pianistin hatte sie am 12. November 1830 bei einem Konzert der
Philharmonischen Gesellschaft, wo sie sich mit den Variationen für Klavier und
Orchester des Komponisten Henri Herz präsentierte.45 Sie soll auch als Kompo-
40 Siehe dazu Nataša Cigoj Krstulović, Posvetila na skladbah kot izhodišče za razpoznavanje
kulturne zgodovine 19. stoletja na Slovenskem, in: Kronika 56/3 (2008), S. 473–481. Darüber
ausführlicher Emily H. Green, Dedicating Music, 1785–1850. Rochester 2019, S. 148.
41 Siehe Dragotin Cvetko, Zgodovina glasbene umetnosti na Slovenskem, Bd. 2. Ljubljana 1959,
S. 137; P. Kuret, siehe Anm. 32, S. 89.
42 Am 22. Juli 1823 gab die Philharmonische Gesellschaft ausnahmsweise ein Konzert zu
Ehren der Gattin Schmidburgs. NUK, Archiv der Philharmonischen Gesellschaft, Programme,
22. 7. 1823, http://www.dlib.si/?URN=URN:NBN:SI:DOC-54QUMC2B, abgerufen
am 21. Jul. 2023.
43 Vgl. F. Keesbacher, siehe Anm. 38, S. 76; D. Cvetko, siehe Anm. 41, S. 197–199; P. Kuret,
siehe Anm. 32, S. 78.
44 Siehe Heinrich Costa, Joseph Camillo Freiherr von Schmidburg, in: Schriften des historischen
Vereines für Innerösterreich 1 (1848) S. 189–206, hier S. 200.
45 5. Grandes Variations Brillantes, sur l’air favori: Le petit Tambour, par Henri Herz, arangiè
pour le Piano-Forte a 4 mains, avec l’Accompagnement de tout l’Orchestre par Mademoiselle
Baronesse Elsbeth de Schmidburg. NUK, Archiv der Philharmonischen Gesellschaft,
43

nistin tätig gewesen sein,46 doch ist kein Werk von ihr erhalten geblieben. Im Jahr
1835 heiratete sie Baron Franz Xaver von Lazarini, starb jedoch bald darauf (1838)
im Alter von 27 Jahren.47
Mehrere gedruckte Kompositionen wurden Schmidburgs Kindern gewidmet,
so beispielsweise die Sammlungen deutscher Tänze von Leopold Kajetan Ledenig
(1827 und 1830) und Franz Serafin Nepozitek (1828). Unvergleichbar anspruchsvoller
ist die Polonaise für Violine mit Streichquartettbegleitung, die der Komponist
Joseph Benesch Schmidburgs Sohn Johann Viktor widmete.48
Die Schmidburgs waren zu dieser Zeit wohl die gesellschaftlich und musikalisch
aktivste unter den prominenten Familien Laibachs. Sie veranstalteten häufig
Soireen und Gesellschaftsabende. Leider verrät Franz nicht viel über diese privaten
Zusammenkünfte, erwähnt aber gelegentlich musikalische Darbietungen, Tänze,
Tombolas und Kartenspiele. Regelmäßig berichtet er nur über die Besucherzahlen
und listet die Namen der Gäste auf. Er nennt noch eine ganze Reihe von privaten
Häusern, in denen sich regelmäßig oder auch nur gelegentlich größere Gesellschaften
zusammenfanden, darunter bei den gräflichen Familien Leiningen,49
Welsersheim, Welsperg, den Freiherren Zois und Buzzi sowie im Haus des Polizeidirektors
Sicard.
Programme, 12. 11. 1830. Das Konzert fand im Redoutensaal statt, und der Erlös wurde dem
Musikschulfonds der Philharmonischen Gesellschaft gespendet. http://www.dlib.si/details/URN:NBN:SI:DOC-K9TTIWS7,
abgerufen am 21. Jul. 2023. Mitte Dezember
wiederholte die Philharmonische Gesellschaft das Konzertprogramm, und diesmal wurde
der Erlös den Einwohnern des Bezirks Vipava gespendet, die sich aufgrund von Missernten
in materieller Not befanden. NUK, Archiv der Philharmonischen Gesellschaft, Programme,
17. 12. 1830, http://www.dlib.si/details/URN:NBN:SI:DOC-1J6J79DF, abgerufen am
21. Jul. 2023.
46 Vgl. F. Keesbacher, siehe Anm. 38, S. 80; Peter Radics, Frau Musica in Krain. Kulturgeschichtliche
Skizze. Laibach 1877, S. 41.
47 Siehe N. Cigoj Krstulović, siehe Anm. 40, S. 477.
48 2 de Polonoise pour le Violon avec accompagnement de 2 Violons, Alto et Violoncelle. Composée at
dediée á Monsieur le Baron Jean Victoir de Schmidburg, par Jos. Benesch, Ouev: 7. Vienne, chez
Sauer et Leidesdorf. Das Werk wurde 1826 gedruckt, ist aber wahrscheinlich schon einige
Jahre davor entstanden. Vgl. Maruša Zupančič, Joseph Benesch. A Forgotten Bohemian Violinist
and an Imitator of Niccolò Paganini Within the Central European Violinistic Tradition,
in: De musica disserenda 18/1–2 (2022) S. 11–76, hier S. 68.
49 Siehe insbesondere den Brief vom 2. 3. 1837 (1837/40).
44

FREILUFTMUSIK UND DIE ROLLE DER MILITÄRKAPELLEN
Militärkapellen spielten eine wichtige Rolle in der Klanglandschaft von Laibach,
doch ist dieses Thema noch weitgehend unerforscht. Die Praxis der (österreichischen)
Militärmusik war besonderen Organisationsstrukturen unterworfen, deren
Verständnis nicht nur musikwissenschaftliche, sondern auch militärhistorische
Kenntnisse erfordert. Die Schilderungen von Franz zeigen mehr als deutlich, dass
dies ein wichtiges Segment der Musikgeschichte Laibachs war, und die Annahme,
dass die Militärkapellen eine Vielzahl von kulturellen Impulsen in die Stadt brachten,
scheint nicht übertrieben. Ausführliche Berichte über die Militärmusik im
19. Jahrhundert sind in Ego-Dokumenten selten zu finden und stellen daher eine
Besonderheit der Quelle dar. Franz’ Interesse daran dürfte in seiner eigenen militärischen
Laufbahn wurzeln;50 gleichzeitig scheinen diese Musiken das Stadtbild
so geprägt zu haben, dass der Berichterstatter sich ihnen wohl kaum entziehen
konnte.
In den 1830er Jahren waren unterschiedliche Regimente wochen- und monatelang
in der Stadt stationiert, gelegentlich sogar mehrere zugleich. Die Militärkapellen
belebten jedes Mal das städtische Musikleben und wohl auch aus diesem
Grund begrüßte die Bevölkerung stets ihre Ankunft und bedauerte ihre Abreise.
Die Besetzung der Militärkapellen hing vom jeweiligen Regiment ab, doch im
Allgemeinen nahm sie seit dem 18. Jahrhundert stetig zu. Zu Beginn der 1820er
Jahre bestand eine durchschnittliche Kapelle aus 26 oder 27 Musikern, manchmal
auch mehr, vor allem, wenn bestimmte Instrumente (Klarinetten, Hörner, Trompeten
und Bässe) doppelt besetzt waren. Um 1845 konnte ein Militärorchester etwa
60 Musiker umfassen.51 So verfügte die Kapelle des Krainer Infanterieregiments
Nr. 17 unter der Leitung von Paul Micheli (Michel) im Jahr 1840 über 55 Musiker.52
Den Aussagen von Franz zufolge traten sowohl die „türkische Musik“ als auch
die „Harmonie“ (der Unterschied liegt wohl in der Besetzung) in Laibach häufig
zu verschiedenen Anlässen und an verschiedenen Orten auf, sei es als Morgenoder
Abendserenade vor den Wohnungen und Häusern angesehener Leute, im
Park am Kongressplatz, im Tivoli oder bei gesellschaftlichen Zusammenkünften
am Rosenbach (heute Rožnik). „Mit dem anbrechenden Frühlinge erwacht [in
Laibach] der Trieb ins Freie“, schrieb der Arzt Franz Wilhelm Lippich im Jahr
50 Vgl. W. Šmid, siehe Anm. 2, S. 143 f.
51 Siehe Emil Rameis – Eugen Brixel, Die österreichische Militärmusik – von ihren Anfängen bis
zum Jahre 1918. Tutzing 1976, S. 36 f.
52 Siehe Fr. Kaus, Die Capelle des vaterländisches Regimentes, in: Illyrisches Blatt Nr. 30,
23. 7. 1840, S. 148; P. Kuret, siehe Anm. 32, S. 91.
45

1834.53 Dieser Drang spiegelt sich auch in den Berichten von Franz, der zahlreiche
Zusammenkünfte in den Grünanlagen und Vororten von Laibach während der
Sommermonate aufzählte. Oft war es die Musik, die die Menschen dorthin lockte.
Franz erwähnt häufig den türkischen Zapfenstreich und den Zapfenstreich
ohne genaue Bezeichnung, wobei nicht klar ist, ob er konsequent zwischen den
Ensembles unterschied. Der Begriff Zapfenstreich oder Retraite meint eine Ankündigung
der Abendzeit, zu der sich die Soldaten zurückziehen mussten. Auch in
den Berichten von Franz bezeichnet Zapfenstreich den feierlichen Rückzug der
Soldaten in ihre Lager, der von einer Militärblaskapelle begleitet wurde und somit
auch eine Parade darstellte. Der Zug hielt oft vor den Häusern von Militärkommandanten
oder anderen öffentlich wirkenden Personen an, um dort einige Stücke
zu spielen.
Die Soldaten bereicherten das Musikleben nicht nur als Musiker, sondern
auch als Balltänzer. Der Mangel an tanzwilligen Männern war nicht nur in Laibach
ein weit verbreitetes Problem. „Man ist der Hoffnung, im nächsten Winter
doch etwas Musick – und wenn kein unvorgesehenes Ereigniß ergibt –, nächsten
Fasching auch Tänzer nach Laibach zu bekommen“, schrieb Franz Anfang Oktober
1833 und listete die Regimente auf, die demnächst hierher verlegt oder durch
die Stadt ziehen würden.54
TANZVERANSTALTUNGEN
Im Herbst und Winter, vor allem aber während des Faschings, fanden in Laibach
zahlreiche Tanzveranstaltungen statt. Die von der Theaterdirektion organisierten
Bälle im Redoutensaal und gelegentlich auch im Theater hatten eine lange Tradition.
Auch die Bälle im Saal der im Jahr 1804 erbauten Schießstatt, welche sich im
Stadtbesitz befand und unter der Schirmherrschaft des Bürgermeisters Johann
Nepomuk Hradeczky stand, erlangten Ansehen.55 In den 1830er Jahren kam zu
diesen beiden Einrichtungen noch das Casino hinzu.
Am wenigsten Aufmerksamkeit schenkte Franz den Bällen der Schützengesellschaft
in der Schießstatt und wenn, dann nur in Bezug auf Teilnehmerzahl und
Dauer.56 Ein Grund dafür könnte sein, dass diese offensichtlich nicht von der vor-
53 Fr. Wilhelm Lippich, Topographie der k. k. Provinzialhauptstadt Laibach, in Bezug auf
Natur- und Heilkunde, Medicinalordnung und Biostatik. Laibach 1834, S. 116.
54 Brief vom 1. 10. 1833 (1833/51), ferner Briefe vom 7., 21. und 23. 10. 1835 (1835/174, 187 und 188);
26. 1. 1836 (1836/21); 14. 2. 1838 (1838/28); 8. 1. 1839 (1839/5) und 19. 2. 1840 (1840/28).
55 Lidija Podlesnik Tomášiková – Marko Motnik, Laibacher Deutscher after the Congress of
Laibach, in: Muzikološki zbornik 57/2 (2021) S. 5–64, hier S. 24.
56 Siehe z. B. Brief vom 24. 1. 1839 (1839/16).
46

nehmsten Gesellschaft Laibachs frequentiert wurden. Neben all den öffentlichen
Bällen gab es auch kleinere Tanzveranstaltungen, die von Privatpersonen in ihren
Häusern organisiert wurden, am häufigsten vom Gouverneur Schmidburg. Franz
zählte noch Hausbälle bei den Adelsfamilien Auersperg, Welsperg,57 Leiningen-
Westerburg,58 Sivkovich59 oder Zois-Edelstein auf,60 nichts verriet er jedoch über
deren Ablauf.
Wieder stehen in Franz’ Berichten die Tanzvergnügungen des Casinos im Mittelpunkt,
wobei er zwischen den Tanzunterhaltungen, die von einem Streichquartett
oder häufiger nur von einem Klavier begleitet wurden, und den Bällen, bei
denen ein Orchester oder eine Militärkapelle die Musik besorgte, unterschied.61
Im Gegensatz zu den Tänzen der gebildeten Schichten richteten sich die als
„Pudelbälle“ bezeichneten öffentlichen Veranstaltungen an Bedienstete, Soldaten
und andere Personen aus dem Kleinbürgertum. Natürlich zog die Neugierde immer
eine große Anzahl von Besuchern aus höheren Gesellschaftsschichten an. Die
Idee für diese Veranstaltungen kam wahrscheinlich aus Triest, wo sie als balli di
petizzia eine lange Tradition hatten.62 Die Pudelbälle waren in Laibach offensichtlich
immer gut besucht, und die Besucherzahlen waren für Franz dabei auch das
einzig Erwähnenswerte. Er berichtet von über dreihundert und sogar sechs- oder
siebenhundert Personen.63 Nur der Handelsball am 30. Januar 1839 im Redoutensaal,
an dem rund tausend Personen teilgenommen haben sollen, konnte die Pudelbälle
übertreffen.64
Alle Ballveranstalter in Laibach klagten über schlechte Besucherzahlen; es
scheint, dass die Karnevalssaison mit Veranstaltungen einfach übersättigt war.
Montags gab es Tanzveranstaltungen im Casino und in der Schießstatt, dienstags
eine Abendgesellschaft bei Polizeidirektor Sicard, mittwochs und sonntags einen
Ball im Redoutensaal, donnerstags Abendgesellschaften beim Gouverneur, freitags
Konzerte der Philharmonischen Gesellschaft und sonntags Gesellschaften beim
Präsidenten der Kärntner Stadt- und Landesregierung, Andreas von Buzzi. Dazwischen
fand noch eine Reihe von Theater- und Opernaufführungen statt. Diese
57 Briefe vom 10. und 25. 1. 1835 (1835/11 und 26); 9. 1. 1837 (1837/10).
58 Briefe vom 17. 11. und 1. 12. 1836 (1836/262 und 275); 7. und 9. 1., 25. 3. und 5. 4. 1837 (1837/7,
10, 55 und 64).
59 Briefe vom 26. 1. und 5. 2. 1835 (1835/27 und 33).
60 Briefe vom 16. und 28. 1. 1836 (1836/13 und 22).
61 Brief vom 23. 1. 1838 (1838/16).
62 Siehe Leopold Chimani, Vaterländische Unterhaltungen. Ein belehrendes und unterhaltendes
Lesebuch zur Bildung des Verstandes, Veredlung des Herzens, Beförderung der Vaterlandsliebe
und gemeinnütziger Kenntnisse für die Jugend Oesterreichs, Bd. 4. Wien 1815, S. 20.
63 Briefe vom 19. 1. 1836 (1836/15) und 22. und 29. 1. und 5. 2. 1839 (1839/15, 19 und 24).
64 Briefe vom 15., 22. und 29. 1. 1839 (1839/8, 15 und 19). Eine ähnliche Tanzveranstaltung
wurde ein Jahr später, am 11. 2. 1840, wiederholt. Brief vom 12. 2. 1840 (1840/24).
47

hohe Anzahl von Tanzveranstaltungen in einer relativ kleinen Stadt zeugt keineswegs
von einer besonders ausgeprägten Tanzlust der Bevölkerung, ging man auf
die Bälle schließlich nicht nur, um dort zu tanzen. Dies geht neben den Angaben
von Franz auch aus Franz Wilhelm Lippichs Topographie von Laibach von 1834
hervor, in der er diese Ansicht vertrat: „Ausgezeichnete Tanzfertigkeit findet man
selbst nicht bei den gebildeten Ständen, besonders fehlt es den Männern an Tanzlust.“65
Die Tänze, mit denen sich die Gesellschaft auf Bällen vergnügte, nennt Franz
nur selten. Am häufigsten berichtet er vom Cotillon, doch nur unter sozialen Gesichtspunkten,
indem er die Zahl der teilnehmenden Paare angibt. Der Cotillon ist
ein Gruppentanz, der Elemente der Gesellschaftsspiele mit einer Drehfigur (Walzen)
kombiniert. Die eingebauten Gesellschaftsspiele dienten dazu, die Damen
mit kleinen Geschenken zu überraschen oder einen neuen Tanzpartner zu wählen,
wodurch der Tanz auch mehrere Stunden dauern konnte. Da das Herumstehen
und Warten immer länger und anstrengender wurde, stellten die Tanzenden
Stühle in einem Kreis auf, auf denen sie sich hinsetzen konnten, um auf ihren Auftritt
zu warten.66 Franz interessierte hauptsächlich die Anzahl der Tanzpaare, die
an den Cotillons teilnahmen und erwähnt diesen Tanz offensichtlich auch nur
dann, wenn diese hoch waren. Er berichtet beispielsweise von 99 gelangweilten
Tanzpaaren auf dem Kadettenball am 13. Februar 1838.67 Selten erwähnt er den
Walzer, mit dem die Tanzveranstaltungen üblicherweise beendet wurden,68 etwas
häufiger aber den Galopp, über den er nur dann spricht, wenn die Tänzer daran
kein Interesse zeigten.69
Der besondere Wert von Franz’ Briefen zu den Bällen, auch wenn er sie nur
beiläufig aufzählt, liegt in der schieren Menge der Daten. Abgesehen von seinen
Berichten ist man sonst nur durch gedruckte Einladungen in Zeitungen und mehr
oder weniger vereinzelte Erwähnungen in anderen Dokumenten über sie unterrichtet.
65 F. W. Lippich, siehe Anm. 53, S. 115.
66 Siehe Elfriede Lange – Karl-Heinz Lange, Modetänze um 1800 in Becker’s Taschenbüchern
1791–1827 und ihr Einfluß auf die Volkstanzpraxis des 19. und 20. Jahrhunderts in Niederdeutschland.
Berlin 1984, S. 57–59.
67 Siehe Briefe vom 14. 2. und 27. 11 1838 (1838/28 und 255); 22. und 29. 1. sowie 13. 2. 1839
(1839/15, 19 und 29).
68 Briefe vom 24. 11. 1835 (1835/225) und 22. 1. 1839 (1839/15).
69 Briefe vom 24. 11 1835 (1835/225); 8., 22. und 29. 1. 1839 (1839/5, 15 und 19).
48

SCHLUSSWORT
Die Beschreibungen des Musiklebens und der musikalischen Ereignisse in den
Briefen von Franz an Baron Erberg sind selten detailliert und entsprechen seiner
auch sonst knappen Berichterstattung. Sie erwecken den Eindruck, dass Franz zumindest
in musikalischer Hinsicht vielleicht nicht der aufmerksamste Beobachter
und sein musikalisches Urteilsvermögen nicht besonders ausgeprägt war. Über
Franz’ eigene musikalische Aktivitäten ist zwar nichts bekannt, doch spielte Musik
in seiner Familie eine Rolle, und seine beiden Töchter Amalie und Nanette Franz
waren in den Laibacher gesellschaftlichen Kreisen als Musikerinnen bekannt.70 Es
wäre angebracht, auch nach den musikalischen Interessen von Baron Erberg zu
fragen, über die jedoch bisher keine zuverlässigen Informationen vorliegen.
In seinen an Erberg adressierten Schilderungen über das Stadtleben konzentrierte
sich Franz weniger auf künstlerische als auf soziale Aspekte, wobei er sein
Augenmerk insbesondere auf die lokalen Netzwerke richtete. Jedenfalls entsprechen
seine Schwerpunkte kaum den Erwartungen und Fragen der modernen
Leser:innen und Forscher:innen, die in den Korrespondenzen des frühen und
mittleren 19. Jahrhunderts wohl einen höheren Grad an Innerlichkeit und einen
subjektiven Ausdruck erwarten würden. Dennoch erweist sich Franz’ Beitrag zur
Beschreibung des Musiklebens in Laibach in den 1830er Jahren in vielerlei Hinsicht
als wertvoll, da er oft Themen anspricht, die in vergleichbarer Dichte in keiner
anderen bisher verfügbaren handschriftlichen oder gedruckten Primärquelle
zu finden sind. Er beleuchtet einen relativ langen Zeitraum und entwirft ein recht
umfassendes Bild des gesellschaftlichen Lebens der Elite, was insofern verständlich
ist, als der Empfänger der Briefe wohl in erster Linie an dem Kreis interessiert war,
dem er selbst angehörte.
Obgleich Franz weder über sich selbst und sein eigenes Leben noch über seine
eigenen Ansichten berichtet, kann sein persönlicher Erlebniszusammenhang bei
einer wissenschaftlichen Auswertung der Briefe nicht völlig ausgeklammert werden.
Bereits die bloße Auswahl an erwähnenswerten Themen verrät nicht nur seine
eigenen, sondern auch die Standpunkte und Erwartungen des Briefempfängers.
Franz’ Hauptziel scheint zu sein, das soziale und kulturelle Leben der Stadt in
seinen verschiedensten Erscheinungsformen möglichst nüchtern zu spiegeln. Aller
bewusst angestrebten Objektivität und Nüchternheit zum Trotz verraten die Schilderungen
dennoch eine subjektive soziale, kulturelle und historische Verankerung
der beiden Akteure. Die Briefe sind demnach nicht bloß als faktische Quellen zu
bewerten, sondern können auch auf ihren speziellen Status als Ego-Dokument
70 Über ihre Auftritte bei den Konzerten der Philharmonischen Gesellschaft siehe S. Železnik,
siehe Anm. 33, S. 32–38.
49

efragt werden. Das „Ich“ in den Briefen wird sicherlich nicht durch narrative
Strategien konstituiert, gewinnt Konturen aber hauptsächlich durch die Auswahl
und Gewichtung der geschilderten Ereignisse. Franz’ Briefe sind nicht zuletzt ein
Beispiel für die große Vielfalt der Briefkultur im 19. Jahrhundert und zugleich ein
eindrucksvolles Zeugnis für die Vielfalt der musikkulturellen Akteure.
50

Eleonore Kinsky (Praha)
MEMORIES OF THE MUSICAL LIFE IN BOHEMIA
IN THE 1840s
Antonín Dvořák’s Interview in the Sunday Times, May 1885
When a biographical article on the composer Antonín Dvořák (1841–1904)
appeared in the London Sunday Times on 10 May 1885, the composer was already
a famous figure in the British capital. The article is presented in the form of an
interview, which focuses on the life of the composer from his birth up to his international
breakthrough in the late 1870s. The interviewer’s name, Paul Pry, is probably
a pseudonym.1 He starts the article by stating that it was based on a conversation
with the composer himself. Dvořák resided in London during the time it was
published and most of the statements can be verified so it is likely that this claim
is true. The interview therefore counts as ego document.2
The English press had shown an interest in the “new” Bohemian composer
since 1879,3 and he was well-known by the time of his first visit to England in 1884
when he conducted his Stabat Mater Op. 58.4 The article in the Sunday Times was
written during his third trip to England in April and May of 1885, where he enjoyed
the successful performance of his Seventh Symphony Op. 77.
The whole of the first half of the interview deals with his childhood and youth.
It therefore provides an important source for Antonín Dvořák’s early years. As
such, it has been used to produce display information for the newly reconstructed
1 Paul Pry was the title character of the farce that was first performed in London in 1825. The
curious character Paul Pry was often associated with journalism in the following years.
2 The question of whether the interview counts as a reliable source is closely tied with the
same question about biographies. On this, see for instance: Musikwissenschaft und Biographik,
Narrative Akteure, Medien, ed. by Fabian Kolb – Melanie Unseld – Gesa zur Nieden.
Mainz 2018.
3 The reports were initially shorter and inaccurate: for example, the Aberdeen Press Journal,
20 October 1879 called him a “Scandinavian composer”, an error that was copied by other
papers too; but they quickly became more extensive and accurate, see for instance the concert
review in: Graphic, 28 February 1880, p. 13.
4 For further literature about Antonín Dvořák’s time in England see Jitka Slavíková, Dvořák
a Anglie. Prague 1994; Jitka Slavíková, Anglická historie Antonína Dvořáka, in: Hudební
rozhledy 42 (10), pp. 474–476; John Clapham, Dvořák’s first contacts with England, in: The
Musical times 119, September 1978, pp. 758–761; Janice B. Stockigt, The Role of the Musical
Times in the Promotion of Dvořák and his Music in the English-speaking World before the first
visit to England. 1879–1884, in: The work of Antonín Dvořák (1841–1904): Aspects of composition
– problems of editing – reception, ed. by Akademie Věd České Republiky. Prague 2007,
pp. 346–364.
51

museum in his birthplace in the small village of Nelahozeves about 35 kilometres
north of Prague,5 since relatively few documents from the composer’s childhood in
Nelahozeves have survived. His parents, František and Anna Dvořák, were poor
people who ran a butcher’s business and the village tavern. Even though surely
gifted, Antonín did not grow up as a child prodigy like other composers. There are
therefore few documents that serve as primary sources directly concerning that
time. All school documents were destroyed in a fire at the school. From the various
entries in birth and baptism registers, or the parents’ marriage and lease contracts,
the most important information can be reconstructed. The name Dvořák also appears
in several accounting records. However, none of these documents give any
impression of the composer’s childhood or information about his musical life.
This paper’s aim is to show how much of the musical life in Dvořák’s childhood
can be reconstructed through ego documents like the Sunday Times interview.
At the same time, however, the question arises of whether this kind of
interview is a reliable source for such an endeavour. The article as a source should
be handled differently from a primary document.6 It was written by someone else,
and based on a conversation before the use of voice recording became common in
journalism.7 It also presents Dvořák’s own perspective on his childhood as he perceived
it over thirty years later in the very different context of the city of London.
Moreover, the article was designed by the composer and especially the author to
appeal to a wide readership. This certainly led to him describing an image that
would have been especially attractive to the London audience, such as anecdotes
from “a childhood in faraway Bohemia”.8
5 The museum is scheduled to open in 2024.
6 In his essay based on a statement by Freud, Klaus-Jürgen Bruder examines the problem of
credibility in a biography: Klaus-Jürgen Bruder, “Die biographische Wahrheit ist nicht zu
haben” – für wen? Psychoanalyse, biographisches Interview und historische (Re-)Konstruktion,
in: “Die biographische Wahrheit ist nicht zu haben”. Psychoanalyse und Biographieforschung,
ed. by Klaus-Jürgen Bruder. Gießen 2003, pp. 9–37.
7 A few obvious mistakes in the article can be related to this. For instance, the misspelling of
the name of the town Kralup as Pralup in the first sentence.
8 Bohemia was seen by many as a faraway place with a certain exotism – at least that is how it was
depicted in the English press. In an article entitled A New Composer in The Era about Dvořák
(The Era, 7 March 1880, p. 6), the journalist writes: “It must be confessed that the name of some
of the new aspirants to musical fame are not more melodious than their compositions. One of
the best of modern Russian composers has a name which almost ties the British tongue in a
knot to pronounce, and it takes a writer as long sentence on English, French or German.
Nevertheless, we must not look gift horses in the mouth. Some sounds between a hiss, a splutter,
and a quack, will give a fair idea of the manner in which the new composer’s name is uttered
in the land of his birth; and, after all, we shall have more to do with the composer’s music than
his name, should Anton Dvorak become a second Beet hoven.”
52

HISTORICAL BACKGROUND
Antonín Dvořák’s international career breakthrough came quite suddenly when
his first works (a selection of the Moravian Duets Op. 20 and 38, and the Slovanic
dances Op. 42) were published by Fritz Simrock in Berlin in 1879. They appeared
at a specific time in music history when editions of piano music were very popular.
It was also at this time that more newspapers than ever competed over the best new
story. The tale of the young Bohemian composer, linked to the Bohemian aspects
of his music, became very popular, especially in the United Kingdom.9 His humble
origins, the bucolic childhood, and the incredible success story later on, as
painted in the interview, made it even more attractive.
Among his many mentions in the international press, only two other biographical
essays on Dvořák had been written before the Sunday Times interview.
The first had been published in instalments over several issues of the Musikalisches
Wochenblatt10 in 1879–1880.11 Its author, the musician Hermann Krigar (1819–
1880),12 had written it in correspondence with the composer. Four years later, in
1884, the music critic and friend of Dvořák, Václav Juda Novotný (1849–1922),
published an analysis of the Stabat Mater Op. 58,13 which began with a biography
of the composer. As a friend and companion on his second trip to England in the
same year, it can be assumed that this biography is relatively accurate. Both essays
were written by people in close proximity to Dvořák. The article in the Sunday
Times however, in its function as an interview, might be the closest to the composer’s
personal perspective.
To complete the picture, two more sources of a different type work to support
the arguments. Travelogues also represent the truth and viewpoint of a particular
person, but they were written closer to the time recorded, and thus one can assume
a more accurate memory. None of these sources treat the composer directly, but
9 He thus became a biography-worthy person from a nineteenth century music biography
perspective. See Melanie Unseld, Biographie und Musikgeschichte. Wandlungen biographischer
Konzepte in Musikkultur und Musikhistoriographie. Köln–Weimar–Wien 2014, pp. 69–
84.
10 Herman Krigar, Biographisches – Anton Dvořák – Eine biographische Skizze, in: Musikalisches
Wochenblatt XI. No. 1–2 and 6–8 (26 December 1879, p. 3–4; 2 January 1880, p. 15–16;
30 January 1880, p. 67–68; 6 February 1880, p. 79; 13 February 1880, p. 91).
11 The author of the Sunday Times interview must have known this article given that a lot of
information is repeated in both articles.
12 Hermann Krigar was a German composer and conductor who also wrote for the Musikalisches
Wochenblatt. See more in: Susan Gillespie – Jarmil Burghauser, Antonín Dvořák a
Biographical Sketch, in: Dvořák and His World, ed. by Michael Beckerman. Princeton 1993,
pp. 211–229.
13 Václav Juda Novotný, Dvořákovo “Stabat Mater”. Prague 1884.
53

the area of Nelahozeves during his childhood and can therefore support the statements
made in the interview from a very different perspective.
The first of these sources describing life in Bohemia as it might have been in
Dvořák’s childhood is Franz Rosenblüh’s account.14 Rosenblüh was a physician in
a dominion that lay directly adjacent to Nelahozeves, and in his account he described
in detail various aspects of the climate and people of his dominion. The
report was published in Prague in 1840 and written in the late 1830s, just before the
composer’s birth. Rosenblüh describes the people of his domain with an outsider’s
eye. Although he had been doctor there for many years and got to know the people
and the area well, he evidently came from a different area and social context. His
vocation as a doctor is apparent and he gives his opinions on events forcefully.
Some information about Bohemian musical life is also provided by Georg
Johann Kohl’s (1808–1878) travelogue.15 It was published in Dresden in 1842, one
year after the composer’s birth. On his journey from Dresden to Prague, he passed
directly through Nelahozeves. Kohl’s perspective is also interesting: he was a complete
outsider and therefore points out things that are specific to the area. Neither
Rosenblüh nor Koch were musicians, but both reports contain descriptions of musical
events.
Antonín Dvořák came from a musical family.16 However, it was not just the
musical influences from his family circle, but also the many musical experiences he
had outside it that led the young man to decide to become a musician. This seems
to be exactly what the composer was trying to make clear in his interview. Music
had been very present in the rural regions of Bohemia since the seventeenth
century. The interview highlights some of the aspects of musical life in Nelahozeves.
One can divide these musical themes into three categories: musical education,
church music, and folk and dance music.
14 Franz Rosenblüh, Die Großherzoglich Toscana’sche Herrschaft Swoleniowes in historisch- topographisch-
und medizinischer Hinsicht. Prague 1840.
15 Georg Johann Kohl was a German historian and geographer. During his many travels (to
Russia, Poland, Austria, Great Brittan and even the United States of America), he wrote
and published travelogues. See Georg Johann Kohl, Hundert Tage auf Reisen in den österreichischen
Staaten, vol. 3, Reise in Böhmen. Dresden 1842.
16 Almost all of his family members played different instruments (see Jan Miroslav Květ:
Mládí Antonína Dvořáka, 2nd ed. Praha 1943, p.13–14), his Father even acquired a licence to
be a professional musician with his zither in 1862: see Stanislav Krajník, Archivní nálezy k
Františku Dvořákovi, otci skladatele Antonína Dvořáka, in: Hudební vědy 33, No. 3 (1996)
p. 287.
54

MUSICAL EDUCATION
At the same time I attended the village school, and there learned the violin
and singing and the rudiments of music. Every child in Bohemia must
study music. The law enacting this is old; it was once repealed, but is now
in force again. Herein, I consider, lies one great secret of the natural talent
for music in my country. Our national tunes and chorales come, as it were,
from the very heart of the people, and beautiful things they are. I intend
some day writing an oratorio into which I shall introduce some of these
chorales. The Slavs all love music.17
From this last sentence, it seems immediately clear that Dvořák or the author of
this article is pandering to a contemporary stereotype about Bohemian musicality.
However, it is important to note that the composer, who achieved his international
breakthrough with the publication of his Slavonic Dances, was encouraged by his
publisher Fritz Simrock to write further Slavonic-sounding works, as these sold
particularly well. This was also the case in England, as the many favourable press
entries about him testify. In a review of a concert that took place on 23 February
1880 at which Joseph Joachim performed Dvořák’s String Sextet Op. 48, The Era
reported:
In the second movement the nationality of the composer asserts itself. It is
entitled “Dumka” (elegy), and is full of the dreamy sadness peculiar to the
Slavonic race. Typically national is the marked rhythm of the beautiful
opening theme, emphasis by the pizzicato of the celli. Here also we meet
with the interval of the superfluous second (E flat to F sharp) often found
in Eastern music.18
Most of the English papers wrote in a similar manner. It must have been clear to
the composer, or at least to his interviewers at the Sunday Times, that Dvořák was
particularly famous for his Slavonic music, and therefore they certainly made use
of this in the article.
At the same time, he also took pains to explain one of the most important
phenomena of Bohemian music history, the cantors as schoolteachers. Since the
end of the seventeenth century, there had been laws in many Bohemian domains
that stipulated that the teachers at every school in the kingdom should primarily
17 Sunday Times, 10 May 1885, p. 3. In fact, Dvořák started to compose his oratorio Svatá
Ludmila Op. 71, which included the old Czech hymn Hospodine pomiluj ne! (“Lord have
mercy upon us”) from the late 10 th century, a few months after this article was published.
18 The Era, 27 February 1880, p. 299.
55

e musicians. In this way, it was hoped to combat the extreme poverty of the population,
but at the same time to meet the musical needs of the rich monasteries and
noble families.19
The same phenomenon was often reported in other documents of the eighteenth
century.20 The best known is probably Charles Burney’s travelogue:
I crossed the whole kingdom of Bohemia, from south to north; and being
very assiduous, in my enquiries, how the common people learned music,
I found out at length, that, not only in every large town, but in all villages
where there is a reading and writing school, children of both sexes are
taught music. […]
The organist and cantor, M. Johann Dulsick, and the first violin of the
parish church, M. Martin Kruch, who are likewise the two school-masters,
gave me all the satisfaction I required. I went into the school, which
was full of little children of both sexes, from six to ten or eleven years old,
who were reading, writing, playing on violins, hautbois, bassoons, and
other instruments. The organist had in a small room of his house four
clavichords, with little boys practicing on them all.21
By the end of the eighteenth century, this tradition seems to have declined,22 probably
due to the centralization of the school system under Joseph II.23 At the beginning
of the nineteenth century, however, a new attempt was begun to train cantors
19 More about this can be found in Jiří Berkovec, Slavný ouřad učitelský. Příbram 2001; Daniel
E. Freeman, Mozart in Prague. Minneapolis 2013, p. 56–57; Jan Němeček, Jakub Jan Ryba,
Život a dílo, 1st ed. Praha 1963.
20 See also for instance Johann Friedrich Reichard, Briefe eines aufmerksamen Reisenden die
Musik betreffend, vol. 3. Frankfurt–Warschau 1776, p. 123–124; Wolfgang Gerle, Beobachtungen
in und über Prag von einem Ausländer, vol. 1. Prag 1787, p. 69.
21 Charles Burney, The Present State of Music in Germany, the Netherlands and United Provinces
or, The Journal of a Tour Through Those Countries, Undertaken to Collect Materials for a
General History of Music, vol. 2, 2nd ed. London 1775, p. 4–5.
22 See Franz Xaver Niemetschek, Ueber den Zustand der Musik in Böhmen, in: Allgemeine
Musikzeitschrift vol. 2, No. 28, p. 488.
23 The school reforms of Joseph II were very progressive but with the centralization, local
specificities such as the cantors tradition were canceled. The Josephine reforms also affected
many religious orders in Bohemia, among others the Jesuits were chased from Bohemia
stopping the function of the colleges, a center for higher musical education. After the death
of the emperor most of the progressive education reforms were canceled again, coincidentally
attempts started in Bohemia to revive the cantors-tradition. See more in: Peter Stachel,
Das Österreichische Bildungssystem zwischen 1749 und 1918, in: Geschichte der österreichischen
Humanwissenschaften, vol. 1, Historischer Kontext, wissenschaftssoziologische Befunde und
methodologische Voraussetzungen, ed. by Karl Acham. Vienna 1999, pp. 115–146.
56

to teach in the village schools through the establishment of various training centres
for professional musicians, most famously the Prague Conservatoire, which
was founded in 1808.24 Rosenblüh describes the musical education in his region:
Like the Bohemian in general, the inhabitants of this dominion also love
singing, music and dancing. Not only the wealthy, but also the poor, have
their boys taught music, especially wind instruments, and preferably the
trumpet, and many sons of local inhabitants serve as trumpeters in the
imperial and royal military. Girls of local parents learn singing and often
perform difficult solo parts quite well in the choir.25
And about village schools he writes: “In both of these schools, lessons in singing
and all kinds of instrumental music are also given by the same teachers according
to the lessons of the prescribed literary subjects.”26
The musical education of the village children seems to have been important enough
to Rosenblüh that he described it in two passages. He did not refer to the cantor
tradition as an old law like Dvořák, but he does write that music lessons were undertaken
by the same teachers. This seems to confirm the presence of cantors in
every village school in the area of Nelahozeves. With his phrase “So wie der Böhme
überhaupt”, Rosenblüh also seems to repeat the clichés of his time. But he does so
for other reasons: in his position as a doctor, Rosenblüh attempts to write a scientific
exposé of the region.
The efforts to revive the cantorial tradition in the nineteenth century paid off
for the young Dvořák: All the teachers with whom Dvořák came into contact
during his childhood were such cantors.27 His first teacher, Joseph Spitz (1807–
24 While the aim of the conservatory was to educate professional musicians, other schools
were founded just to educate future cantors: J. Berkovec, see note 20, p. 102–103.
25 “So wie der Böhme überhaupt, liebt auch der Bewohner dieser Herrschaft, Gesang, Musik
und Tanz. Nicht nur der Vermögende, auch der Arme läßt seine Knaben in der Musik, besonders
in Blasinstrumenten, und vorzugsweise in der Trompete unterrichten, und viele
Söhne hiesiger Einwohner stehen als Trompeter bei dem k.k. Militär; Mädchen gemeiner
Eltern lernen den Gesang, und tragen oft schwierige Solopartien auf dem Chore recht gut
vor.” F. Rosenblüh, see note 14, p. 59. This and all of the following English translations by
the author.
26 “In beiden diesen Schulen wird auch Unterricht im Gesang und jeder Art Instrumentalmusik,
von denselben Lehrern nach abgehaltenen Unterrichtsstunden der vorgeschriebenen
Literärgegenständen erteilt.” Ibidem, p. 43.
27 The character of Cantor Benda from his opera Jakobín Op. 84, was named after the teacher
from the nearby village of Vepřek where one of Antonín’s uncles was living but is supposedly
based on his most famous teacher Antonín Liehmann.
57

1866), was cantor at the small school (in German: “Trivialschule”) in Nelahozeves.
He was a talented musician, played several instruments, was also a composer and
was responsible for all the church music in the village. Later Dvořák tried to buy
Spitz’s estate from his daughter.28 This proves the high regard the composer had
for his first teacher. In the Sunday Times article, however, Dvořák mentions him
only indirectly: “I attended the village school, and there learned violin and singing
and the rudiments of music.”29
Dvořák wrote much more extensively about his second teacher Antonín Liehmann
(1808–1879):
There I studied with the school-teacher and organist, Anton Liehmann, a
good and clever musician. I should tell you that in Bohemia every
school-teacher is bound to know sufficient music to give instruction in it.
Well, I sang in the choir and began to learn the organ a little. I used to
help to copy out the parts from the little scores that Liehmann wrote for
the performances of the village band, and I remember how puzzled I got
over the various keys in which the parts for wind-instruments were written.
These things were not explained to me. I had to find out their meaning
for myself. […]
When I was fifteen I began to learn the piano and counterpoint. As I
have already told you, Liehmann was an excellent musician, but he left his
pupils to find out a great deal for themselves. For instance, I had to teach
myself entirely how to read a “figured bass”. I can scarcely tell how I managed
it, but after a little time, when I played the organ for services, I used
to read whole Masses from old copies written with a “figured bass”.30
This part of the interview gives a deeper insight into Dvořák’s form of education.
Despite his respect for his teacher, the composer presents himself as an autodidact.
Liehmann was later very committed to encouraging the young musician and persuading
his parents to let him choose a musical career. Dvořák does not mention
him directly in the interview: “At last my father’s friends persuaded him not to
bring me up to business, but to send me to Prague to study there in right good
earnest.”31 It is more difficult to read out what the intentions of the two authors
28 J. M. Květ, see note 17, p. 35.
29 Sunday Times, 10 May 1885, p. 3.
30 Ibidem.
31 Ibidem. Although Liehmann is not mentioned here directly, it is he who was being referred
to, as we know from other sources such as an article written by a cousin of the composer:
Anna Dušková, Za A. Dvořákem, in: Hudební Revue V, 1911–1912, p. 69.
58

might have been. Dvořák does not speak disrespectfully of his teacher, but he also
seems to emphasize how much he has learned by himself.
MUSIC IN CHURCH
The cantor of a village was not only the teacher at the school, but in many cases
also responsible for church music.32 It was his job, as organist, to accompany every
mass and to perform a solemn mass for important holydays. Rosenblüh writes that
such music was performed in both churches of his dominion:
In both of the first churches mentioned, namely the one in Swoleniowes
and the one in Semiech, solemn music is performed during the service on
major feasts […] as well as on major holidays and the commemoration day
of the church saint.
The fourth school teacher in Semiech, Mr. Anton Daucha, who has
been employed since 1809, is distinguished by his untiring zeal to bring
this subject to an […] extremely rare perfection; in that he can, as a choir
master, completely fill the choir with his former and present pupils, and
masterfully perform the musical works of the most famous and greatest
composers.33
Although we know from surviving compositions by Spitz34 that such solemn music
must also have existed in Nelahozeves, Dvořák describes it only for Zlonice,
where he continued his school under Antonín Liehmann. Zlonice had a much
larger church with a more active congregation. Certainly, the performances there
were more grandiose than in Nelahozeves. The masses mentioned there also testify
to this:
32 In some cases he was even responsible for all the music of the village, including dance music
but we do not know this about Spitz or Liehmann.
33 “In beiden der zuerst angeführten Kirchen, nämentlich der in Swoleniowes und jener in
Semiech, wird an großen Festen […] ferner an großen Feiertagen und dem Gedächnistage
des Kirchenheiligen, eine solemne Musik während des Gottesdienstes aufgeführt. [–]
Rühmlich zeichnet sich der seit dem J. 1809 angestellte, in der Reihenfolge der vierte Schullehrer
in Semiech, Hr. Anton Daucha, bei seinen praktischen Musikkenntnissen durch
seinen unermüdeten Eifer aus, diesen Gegenstand hierorts zu einer […] äußerst seltenen
Vollkommenheit zu bringen; indem derselbe als Regenschori mit seinen ehemaligen und
gegenwärtigen Zöglingen den Chor vollständig besetzen, und die Musikwerke der berühmtesten
und größten Tonsetzer meisterhaft aufführen kann.” F. Rosenblüh, see note 14, p. 41.
34 Five sacral compositions by Joseph Spitz in: State Regional Archive (SOkA) Mělník: Fond
Společnost Dvořákova muzea Kralupy nad Vltavou.
59

I can scarcely tell how I managed it, but after a little time, when I played
the organ for services, I used to read whole Masses from old copies written
with a “figured bass”. Of course, they were not all such Masses as we gave
on the yearly Church Festival, when works like Cherubini’s D minor,
Haydn’s D minor [Hob. XXII:11], or Mozart’s C major [K. 317] were performed.
Ah! those yearly performances. They might excite a smile now,
but how lovely I thought them then! Indeed, it was being ever in the midst
of this musical element that developed the feeling within me and made me
long to become a real musician.35
The young musician’s enthusiasm can still be heard in this statement. Church
music was his introduction to some of the great composers. It remained an important
theme for him and, unlike many of his contemporaries, he always remained a
deeply devout Catholic. If one looks at this in the English context, the land of the
great choirs and choral traditions,36 it is understandable that the composer wanted
to downplay these performances. He still wanted to show that there was choral
music even in the countryside of Bohemia, but he was aware that the quality was
different from what the readership might imagine.
FOLK AND DANCE MUSIC
A very important aspect of village life must have been the weekly village dances.
These were especially important for the Dvořák family as they took place in the
village tavern. It is even said in a family tradition that Antonín was born while
people were dancing in the tavern room next door.37 The dances appear in many
documents dealing with this time and region. In the Sunday Times, several aspects
of this theme are discussed. First, Dvořák addresses music in everyday life: “The
Slavs all love music. They may work all day in the fields, but they are always singing,
and the true musical spirit burns bright within them.”38 Rosenblüh says something
quite similar, adding dancers to the picture:
35 Sunday Times, 10 May 1885, p. 3.
36 Dvořák himself was very impressed with the London choirs as he writes in a letter: Antonín
Dvořák, Letter to Velebín Urbánek from London, 14.3.1884, BE, p. 79.
37 This is not improbable, given that he was born on 8 September, the day of the birth of the
Virgin Mary, which would have certainly been a feast day, and it is sure that he was born in
the tavern building.
38 Sunday Times, 10 May 1885, p. 3.
60

Dancing is equally passionately loved, and few Sundays and holidays pass
without nights being sacrificed to this pleasure. The female sex, especially
in youth, is very devoted to dancing, and one often sees young girls dancing
to the accompaniment of singing after the hardest work.39
As both examples mention vocal music, one imagines they meant folk songs. Kohl
gives more information about them:40
It is not uncommon to find singers in Prague beer houses who usually
accompany their performances with the harp. As a rule, they have a large
collection of songs and melodies with them, and I believe that a music
lover could discover many delicious little songs among them, which is only
passed from hand to hand in copies […].
I usually found songs in both German and Bohemian.41
The German author also describes other aspects of everyday music at the countryside.
On his journey from Dresden to Prague, he crossed the Vltava in Veltrusy
(4 kilometres from Nelahozeves) and reported the following:
A couple of Bohemian harpers got on the raft with us, and as it pushed off
and was rocked away by the crashing waves, they began to play and sing. […]
Later, in Prague, I also crossed the river twice more on the normal
river ferry with music. I don’t remember this happening to me in any other
country. This is due to the Bohemian love of music.42
39 “Gleich leidenschaftlich geliebt wird der Tanz; und es vergehen wenig Sonn- und Feiertage,
wo nicht die Nächte diesem Vergnügen geopfert werden. Das weibliche Geschlecht ist,
besonders in der Jugend, dem Tanz sehr ergeben, und oft sieht man nach der schwersten
Arbeit bei angestimmtem Gesang junge Mädchen tanzen.” F. Rosenblüh, see note 14, p. 43.
40 Kohl does not specify a specific genre of songs. The Czech archivist and writer Karel Jaromír
Erben (1811–1870) gathered over 1500 folk songs and sayings from all of Bohemia in his work
Prostonárodní české písně a říkadla (1864) specifying the region of origin of each. Several of
the songs in Erben’s publication are from the region of Nelahozeves, but given that these
singers were travelling, they would have gathered songs from different regions.
41 “Nicht selten auch findet man Sänger in den Prager Bierhäusern, die gewöhnlich mit der
Harfe ihre Vorträge begleiten. Sie haben in der Regel eine zahlreiche Sammlung von Liedern
und Melodien bei sich, und ich glaube, dass ein Musikfreund bei ihnen wohl noch
manches köstliche Liedchen, dass nur in Abschriften unter ihnen von Hand zu Hand geht,
entdecken könnte […]. Gewöhnlich fand ich Lieder sowohl in deutscher als in böhmischer
Sprache.” G. J. Kohl, see note 16, p. 194.
42 “Ein paar böhmische Harfner stiegen mit uns auf das Floß, und so wie dieses abstiess und
von den anschlagenden Wellen fortgeschaukelt wurde, fingen sie an zu spielen und zu
61

Kohl, too, makes use of the stereotypical Bohemian love of music43. In his case, it
can probably be attributed to the naivety of the outsider. However, his comments
are valuable: one can assume that his travels would enable him to make comparisons
between different regions, and that he would particularly emphasize the specificities
of the place described.
The most frequently described topic is the festive village dances, which would
have been just as important for Dvořák. Dances usually happened at the tavern (so
in the house of the future composer) and Antonín would accompany them as part
of the village band. “How they love the dance, too! On Sunday, when church is
over, they begin their music and dancing, and often keep it up without cessation
till early in the following morning.”44
Rosenblüh gives a very similar description of the dances:
But if there is formal music in the village tavern, not with a fiddle, bagpipes
and cymbals as in the past, but with an orchestra of eight to ten instruments,
then everyone, young and old, men and women, with all the
children and servants, goes there and dances in colourful rows. At nightfall
the old go home, at dawn of the coming day the young go home.
As beneficial as a moderate dance is to health, the fast, wild and sometimes
immoral dances that are so popular nowadays are just as detrimental.45
This passage gives us an extra piece of interesting information about the music
accompanying the dances. The dances were no longer accompanied by just three
musicians with traditional instruments but by a larger ensemble he calls an orchestra.
Kohl writes of a similar change and even calls it a revolution:
singen. […] Auch in Prag bin ich später noch zweimal bei der gewöhnlichen Flussfähre mit
Musik über den Fluss gesetzt. Ich erinnere mich nicht, dass mir diess noch sonst in irgend
einem Lande passiert sei. Es kommt diess auf Rechnung der böhmischen Musikliebe.”
Ibidem, p. 43–44.
43 In the Sunday Times article, it says: “The slavs all love music” – Sunday Times, 10 May 1885,
p. 3.
44 Ibidem.
45 “Ist aber eine förmliche Musik in der Dorfschänke, und zwar nicht wie ehemals mit einer
Geige, Dudelsack und Zimbel, sondern mit einem acht bis zehnstimmig besetzten Orchester,
so geht alles, Jung und Alt Mann und Weib mit allen Kindern und Dienstboten dahin,
und tanzt in bunten Reihen. Mit Anbruch der Nacht gehen die Alten, mit Anbruch des
künftigen Tages die Jugend nach Hause. [–] So wohltätig ein mäßiger Tanz zur Gesundheit
beiträgt, eben so nachtheilig wirken die jetzt so allgemein beliebten raschen, wilden, zum
Theil auch unmoralischen Tänze.” F. Rosenblüh, see note 14, p. 43.
62

Plate 1: Carl Robert Croll (1800–1863): A View of the Courtyard at Nelahozeves Castle,
1840, oil on canvas, Lobkowicz Collections, detail: a group of musicians.
On Saturdays, Sundays and Mondays there is music in all these houses,
and in some of them also on other days of the week, and music with such
a full ensemble that I could not help wondering at the richness of the
sources from which this music came. Usually it is a full orchestra, which
is particularly distinguished by its sturdiness and precision in performance.
I was told that in recent times a great revolution has taken place with
the whole of the travelling Bohemian orchestral music, and that it has
gained a great deal of energy, especially through the influence of the great
Viennese dance orchestra directors Strauss, Lanner and Labitzky. The
compositions of these gentlemen must be performed with extraordinary
tact and precision […].46
46 “Samstags, Sonntags und Montags gibt es in allen diesen Häusern, und in manchen auch
an anderen Tagen der Woche Musik, und zwar eine so gut besetzte Musik, dass ich nicht
aufhören konnte mich zu wundern über die Ergiebigkeit der Quellen, aus denen diese
Musiken hervorkamen. Gewöhnlich ist es ein vollständiges Orchester, das sich besonders
63

Rosenblüh and Kohl describe a very similar phenomenon, and with Kohl’s addition
it becomes clear what kind of orchestra was meant in the quotation above and that
the repertoire must have been very much influenced by the Viennese ballrooms.
Even if the beer houses described by Kohl were in Prague, we can assume, bearing
in mind what Rosenblüh says, that it was similar in the rural area around Prague.
Dvořák’s description does not contradict this, he was just too young to have
witnessed the change:
Each village has its band of eight or ten musicians—I belonged to ours as
soon as I could fiddle a little. It is supported by the dancers, who pay nothing
to go in, but in the middle of their polka or waltz a couple is stopped
by one of the musicians and not allowed to continue until they have paid
as many kreutzers as they can afford. When all is over, the band divide
their earnings, and mine, of course, used to be handed forthwith to my
father.47
He does not name old Czech dance titles when naming the dances (such as Furiant
or Sousedka, which he will later use a lot in his music) but speaks of polkas and
waltzes. It is therefore quite likely that the repertoire played at the village dances
was very much influenced by the town dance repertoire.48 Finally, Dvořák gives a
plausible census of the instruments that might have been played in such a band in
Nelahozeves:
Once, I recollect, I determined to try my hand at a score myself. I wrote a
polka for strings, 2 clarinets, 1 cornet, 2 horns, and 1 trombone. With great
pride I carried it home to Mühlhausen49 and had it tried by our band
durch seinen Tacktfestigkeit und Präcision im Vortrage auszeichnet. [–] Man sagte mir,
dass in der neueren Zeit eine große Revolution mit den ganzen wandernden böhmischen
Orchestermusik vorgegangen sei, und dass sie namentlich durch den Einfluss der großen
Wiener Tanzorchesterdirektoren Strauß, Lanner, Labitzky sehr an Energie gewonnen habe.
Die Kompositionen dieser tonangebenden Herren müssen mit einer außerordentlichen
Tactfestigkeit und mit bedeutender Präzision vorgetragen werden […].” G. J. Kohl, see
note 16, p. 193.
47 Sunday Times, 10 May 1885, p. 3.
48 This is another clear indication that the text by itself could be understood in a different
manner (perhaps that he was just enlisting dances known in England so to not confuse the
reader), with the context of Kohl a different perspective is opened on to how to understand
the text.
49 Mühlhausen was the German name of the village of Nelahozeves. The name referes to the
ancient mill at the edge of the Vltava river, which was destroyed in the course of the twentieth
century.
64

there. How anxiously I waited for the opening chord! It was all right, bar
the cornet part, which I had got quite in the wrong key. The mistake was
soon remedied by transposition, but I leave you to guess its effect.50
This anecdote appears in Hermann Krigar’s text (with only the trumpets and clarinets
mentioned).51 It can therefore be assumed that the instrumentation of the
village band was approximately as listed in the Sunday Times with eight to ten
musicians composed of strings and some wind players: most likely a smaller version
of what Kohl described.
CONCLUSION
As a stand-alone document, the interview presents some problems. The information
it gives must be viewed with caution. Whereas with many biographies the
background is not known, and therefore it is not possible to find out how much
corresponds to the truth, or how many documents were destroyed beforehand,52 it
is somewhat easier with the interview. Some statements can be interpreted through
their context. However, in combination with other independent period sources the
picture becomes more complete and some of the statements become more credible.
Compared to other sources, the article provides insights into aspects of
Antonín Dvořák’s childhood and the atmosphere in which he was raised, which
might have strongly influenced both his choice to become a professional musician
and the content of his later compositions. He grew up in a village tavern that was
filled with music most days, whether it was through singing popular songs or during
dance events where he played the violin in a band. He was so invested in the
band that he would even return to play there while attending school in Zlonice.
Kohl’s account is valuable as it provides more insight into the repertoire of these
dances. In front of the tavern stands the little church of St. Andrews, where Dvořák
was baptized and received his first impressions of sacred music,53 which he claimed
inspired him to become a musician in Zlonice. The article also sheds light on
Dvořák’s musical education. He was educated in the Bohemian cantor tradition,
and while he was directly taught how to play various instruments, he learned the
50 Sunday Times, 10 May 1885, p. 3.
51 See Herman Krigar, Biographisches – Anton Dvořák – Eine biographische Skizze, in: Musikalisches
Wochenblatt XI. No. 2, 2 January 1880, p. 15–16.
52 See K.-J. Bruder, see note 6, p. 11.
53 Sacral music by Spitz’ has survived in the State Regional Archive (SOkA) Mělník: Fond
Společnost Dvořákova muzea Kralupy nad Vltavou. It is a testimony to what kind of
churchmusic Dvořák heard and performed during his time in Nelahozeves.
65

asics of music theory and composition through the traditional method of copying
scores.
By cross-referencing with other sources such as music or accounting documents,
as well as contracts,54 many facts stated in ego documents can be confirmed.
In the case of the Sunday Times article, it not only provides important information
about the events of Antonín Dvořák’s childhood but, more importantly,
offers insights into his own perspective on his childhood as conveyed by a successful
composer addressing the London public. From this standpoint, the ego document
becomes a valuable source for Dvořák research.
54 Especially in the Lobkowicz Roudnice Archives, and state archives of Litoměřice: Velkostatek
Nelahozeves.
66

Emese Tóth (Budapest)
BETWEEN ROTTERDAM AND PEST
József Ellinger’s Letters to Ferenc Erkel*
The situation at the opera in Pest was captured perfectly by the periodical
Divatcsarnok of 19 August 1862:
The main problem is the disarray. Mrs. Hollósi-L. has said goodbye, the
opera is left without head and crown, and now the other members are
preparing to resign, and if they succeed, the arms will be all that is left.
Vilma Voggenhuber has signed for Berlin, Bignio has gone to Vienna,
Ellinger is going to Rotterdam and Füredi is retiring. In vain did the
directorate speak through Artót Desírée and Beck in such beautiful voices,
our opera is threatened with muteness.1
Besides their brief comment about the opportunities for singers abroad, the article’s
author – pseudonymously signed “l.” – retained a diplomatic silence about the
reasons the tenor József Ellinger (1820–1891) was heading for the Netherlands.
Hungarian opera singers’ performances abroad were not necessarily isolated incidents:
concerts or contracts abroad could have been the result of either an invitation
or even the better financial conditions compared to home.2 Ellinger’s case
provides an opportunity to examine a singer’s character from the viewpoint of
musical practice, i.e. the singer’s struggles in a highly demanding and competitive
system. The goal of this study is to show another side of a once well-known – today,
less known – singer’s character and his preferences through his letters to one of his
mentors, the composer Ferenc Erkel. These ego documents also shed light on a
critical period of his life: after he left the Hungarian capital and before his return.
Despite József Ellinger’s fame and his status as one of the leading soloists of the
National Theatre in Pest, there is little literature of any quality on his life
and work. Although his name appeared in the period’s press and a reasonable
* I am grateful for Attila Kárpáti and Sára Aksza Grosz for their help with the translation.
1 [l.], “Heti szemle”, Divatcsarnok Nr. 33, 19. 8. 1862. pp. 525–527, at p. 525. “Legfőbb baj a
fejetlenség. Hollósi L.-né elbúcsúzott, fej és korona nélkül maradt az opera s most a többi
tagok is készülnek fölmondani a szolgálatot, ha ez sikerül, a karoknál nem marad egyéb.
Voggenhuber Vilma Berlinbe szerződött, Bignio Bécsbe pártolt, Ellinger Rotterdamba
törekedik, Füredi pedig visszavonul. Hiába beszélt az igazgatóság oly drága szép hangokon,
Artôt Desirée és Beck által, a mi operánk elnémulással fenyegetőzik.”
2 See Tibor Tallián, Schodel Rozália és a hivatásos magyar operajátszás kezdetei. Budapest 2015,
pp. 45–58.
67

68
Plate 1: Portrait of József Ellinger. Lithograph after Miklós Barabás, 1854.
Hungarian National Museum, Hungarian Historical Gallery, Inv. 1238.

epresentation of his career can be reconstructed from reviews and playbills, there
is no biography or article that focuses specifically on Ellinger besides a few encyclopaedia
articles.3 Although contemporary press reviews hailed him as one of the
most dependable singers, he was also parodied as an artist who was comically attached
to his own technique, albeit not without charm. Coming from a poor musical
family in Óbuda,4 Ellinger’s early years did not necessarily hold the promise
of a singer’s or musician’s career.5 His musical background is somewhat more detailed
in his brother’s obituary – violinist and music teacher Gusztáv Ellinger –
who placed their father, “papa Ellinger” in the musical milieu of the old part of the
3 Some biographical articles in encyclopaedias: Magyar zsidó lexikon, ed. by Újvári Péter.
Budapest 1929, p. 221; Bence Szabolcsi – Aladár Tóth, Zenei lexikon, ed. by Margit Tóth.
Budapest 1965, p. 548; Brockhaus Riemann Zenei lexikon, ed. by Carl Dahlhaus – Hans
Heinrich Eggebrecht, trans. by Antal Boronkay I. Budapest 1983, p. 505; Színháztörténeti
Lexikon, ed. by György Székely. Budapest 1994, p. 184. We can find Ellinger’s name in Ervin
Major’s card catalogue, as well, with some press references in RCH Institute for Musicology,
Library of Musicology, Major Collection. About his membership of the National Theatre
Pest and his legendary jump-in: A Nemzeti Szinház százéves története 2. Iratok a Nemzeti
Szinház történetéhez, ed. by Jolán Pukánszkyné-Kádár. Budapest 1938, pp. 394–397, no. 143,
184, 534 and 540; A Nemzeti Színház 150 éve, ed. by Ferenc Kerényi. Budapest 1987, p. 323.
His mentioning in the company of Viennese Opera: Michael Jahn, Die Wiener Hofoper von
1848 bis 1870. Personal – Aufführungen – Spielplan (Publikationen des Instituts für Österreichische
Musikdokumentation 27) ed. by Günther Brosche. Tutzing 2002, p. 42. Erkel’s
opinion about Ellinger in Bánk bán: Introduction, in: Erkel Ferenc Operák – Bánk bán,
vol. 1, ed. by Miklós Dolinszky. Budapest 2009, pp. VIII–XXVI, XXI; Pál Horváth,
Doppler, a nemzet(köz)i operaszerző. A zeneszerző operáinak pest-budai és bécsi fogadtatásáról,
in: Zenetudományi Dolgozatok 2019–2020 (2021) pp. 139–154, at p. 147. Ellinger’s mentioning
as performer of recitals and musical events: Károly Szász, Várszínházi emlékek. Budapest
1921, p. 58; Ferenc Bónis, Schumann és Mosonyi: Gyermekjelenetek és Magyar gyermekvilág,
in: Zenetudományi Dolgozatok (2000) pp. 71–81, at p. 72; Tibor Tallián, “Opern dieses größten
Meisters der Jetztzeit Meyerbeer fogadtatása a korabeli magyar operaszínpadon, in: Zenetudományi
Dolgozatok (2004–2005) pp. 1–60, at p. 39; Péter Bozó, A Wagnernek megtiltani
nem lehet …, in: Magyar Zene 57/1 (2019) pp. 31–45, at p. 44; Mária Eckhardt, Clara
Schumann koncertjei Pest-Budán a korabeli magyar sajtó tükrében, in: Magyar Zene 57/3
(2019) pp. 291–320; Josine Meurs, Wagner in Nederland 1843–1914. Amsterdam 2002, p. 87.
On his first professional Hungarian opera performances: Tibor Tallián, Schodel Rozália és a
hivatásos magyar operajátszás kezdetei. Budapest 2015.
4 Óbuda as part of the capital city Pest-Buda, Budapest, was probably the oldest part of the
city. A village-kind of city was full of historical remains from the Roman period and Middle
Ages. After a couple of flourishing decades during the Baroque, in the nineteenth-century
Óbuda became, through its backwardness, a rustic and romantic local for the escapees
from the city life.
5 See: Ellinger’s memoir published in Budapester Tagblatt, cited in Fővárosi Lapok Nr. 239,
29. 8. 1890, p. 1747–1748.
69

capital, playing at weddings and festivals, as a kind of substitute for klezmer,
Schrammelmusik and gypsy bands.6 The young Ellinger performed in Pressburg
and Vienna as a chorister and sang minor roles at the opera, but also worked in a
hat shop. Subsequent posts in foreign cities (Regensburg, Augsburg, Munich,
Graz, etc.) in the roles of Lyonel (Flotow: Martha), Stradella (Flotow: Alessandro
Stradella), or Eleazar (Halévy: La Juive) suggest steady progression as a singer.
After his engagement at the Theater an der Wien, which was followed by the German
Theatre in Pest, he joined the National Theatre in Pest in 1855, first as a guest
singer, then on a contract.7
The exceptional range and volume of his voice can be inferred from various
sources containing multiple comments. The reference naming him as the “creator”
of Ferenc Erkel’s Bánk bán (which survives in the score, as well) also admires his
exceptional tessitura.8 On the other hand stands the distastefulness of the cries
and the epic remark from the front page of the journal Pesti Napló about his Troubadour
performance, that “Ellinger, among the other contributors, shook the stage
with his efforts”9. He was also often accused of over-reliance on high notes and the
enthusiasm of the audience. However, he was warned that his special voice would
be an irreplaceable loss if he used and abused it wastefully.
According to Tibor Tallián, an opera singer was judged upon the triad of
voice – performance – play in the nineteenth century. It is striking that much of the
6 [Z.M.], “Ellinger Gusztáv (1810–1898)”, Pesti Napló Nr. 65, 6. 3. 1898, p. 5–6.
7 “Ellinger József. 1812[!]–1891”, Vasárnapi Ujság Nr. 19, 10. 5. 1891, p. 306. In his obituary his
year of birth is written mistakenly.
8 Bánk bán was one of Ferenc Erkel’s best-known operas, it was premiered in 1861 in Pest. The
tragic thirteenth century story of Bánk – the governor of the Hungarian Kingdom in the
absence of the king – became a symbol of the Hungarian people’s resistance against the
Habsburgs. Erkel’s dedication, writing of the composer’s own portrayal by Canzi, expresses
the composer’s appreciation to Ellinger: “To the first creator of the title role of Bánk bán,
Mr Josef Ellinger, as a friendly memory. Erkel Ferenc 7/4 1861.” Budapest, Hungarian State
Opera Memorial Collection (H-Bo) Erkel F 7/4 1861. In his own analysis of Bánk bán, Erkel
also uses very expressive words for Ellinger’s singing, such as “Ellinger surpasses himself in
this scene” [“Ellinger ebben a’ jelenetben magat[!] fölül mulja[!]” and “Ellinger unsurpassed
in this death scene” [“Ellinger utolérhetetlen ezen halál scénában.”], Manuscript Archives
of the National Széchényi Library (H-Bn), An lit. [p. 7] Cited by Ferenc Bónis, Erkel Ferenc
a Bánk bánról, in: Magyar zenetörténeti tanulmányok. Írások Erkel Ferencről és a Magyar zene
korábbi századairól, ed. by Ferenc Bónis. Budapest 1968, pp. 63–73, at p. 64–65. On the
interpretation of National Theater’s performances as celebration of the royals and as a form
of “passive resistance”: Lili Békéssy, Celebrating the Habsburgs in the Hungarian National
Theater, 1837–67, in: Exploring Music Life in the Late Habsburg Monarchy and Successor
States, special issue, Musicologica Austriaca: Journal for Austrian Music Studies 6/4 (2021)
pp. 39–64.
9 Pesti Napló Nr. 47, 28. 2. 1870, p. 1.
70

contemporary criticism of performances concentrates on the singing: “however
much importance was attached to acting in opera, the primary task of the song
actor, even after the breakthrough of grand opera fashion, was still seen as singing,
and his artistic qualities were appreciated and valued primarily on the basis of his
voice and his training.”10 Ellinger’s performances were characterized by the rudimentary
character of his stage presence and gestures, rather than a lack thereof.
Critics repeatedly accused Ellinger of being indisposed and singing hoarsely. His
singing technique was not necessarily based on standard vocal training. Furthermore,
as one of the busiest singers of his time, Ellinger’s performances often
showed signs of exhaustion. This is how it might have come about that, as the main
character in an evening performance of Rigoletto after a noon concert in 1862, he
was the subject of a scathing review in the Zenészeti Lapok, which said that he
“literally sang an aria of Gixers.”11 However, Kornél Ábrányi (under the pseudonym
“a”) tried to uncover the reason for the problem, pointing out that without a
second tenor, Ellinger carried the burden of being the only tenor singer in the
theatre – no wonder he and his voice were overworked.12
After an unsuccessful trial in autumn 1862, he left the National Theatre in
Pest. If we consider Ellinger’s roles up until the summer of 1862, when he departed,
the musical theatre lost its main singer of the Italian and French operas (Donizetti,
Verdi, Meyerbeer, Rossini, Halévy, Flotow, Auber) as well as of Erkel’s music dramas
– all of which together constituted a significant part of the theatre’s repertoire.13
We have hardly any source material from Ellinger himself. In 1890 – just a year
before he died – he shared his memoirs in the Budapester Tagblatt,14 summarizing
his career in Temesvár, Pressburg, Vienna, Regensburg, Pest and so on. As this
collection of distinguished performances and anecdotes about his life was documented
by a retired elderly man following a stroke, it also served as a record of his
duties. Nevertheless, the four letters of his that are preserved in the Manuscript
Archives of the National Széchényi Library reveal the other side of the sharply
10 Tibor Tallián, Schodel Rozália és a hivatásos magyar operajátszás kezdetei. Budapest 2015,
p. 477.
11 a [Kornél Ábrányi], Zenészeti Lapok Nr. 22, 27. 2. 1862, p. 176. The “aria of Gixer” (Gickser)
refers to Ellinger’s errors in his singing. The German word ‘gicksen’ means squeaking.
12 Ibidem.
13 A selection of the operas he appeared in Pest, between 1861–1862: Erkel: Bánk bán, Hunyadi
László (title roles), Mozart: Don Giovanni (Don Ottavio), Donizetti: Lucia di Lammermoor
(Edgar), Mosonyi: Szép Ilon (Mátyás), Meyerbeer: Dinorah (Corentin), Halévy: La Juive
(Eleazar), Verdi: Troubadour (Manrico), Rigoletto (Duke of Mantua), Ernani (title role),
Rossini: Wilhelm Tell (Arnold).
14 Josef Ellinger, Aus meinem Leben, in: Budapester Tagblatt Nr. 236, 27. 8. 1890, pp. 1–2, and
Nr. 237, 28. 8. 1890, pp. 1–3.
71

criticized tenor during his active years.15 These ego documents are mentioned in
music-history literature only once, as regestas, so they have not previously been
subject to analysis and their full content had remains unexplored.16 Of these documents,
written between 1865–1866, three letters date from Rotterdam and focus
on Ellinger’s return to the National Theatre in Pest. Any similar written texts from
Ellinger are lost or hidden, except his short answer to Sándor Erkel (Ferenc Erkel’s
son), written on Ferenc Erkel’s business card, 1881.17
Rotterdam, 24 December 1865 (Fond XII/256 no. 2.)
Rotterdam, 4 April 1866 (Fond XII/256 no. 3.)
Rotterdam, 5 April 1866 (Fond XII/256 no. 4.)
Pest, 5 September 1866 (Fond XII/256 no. 5.)
Table 1. Ellinger’s letters to Erkel Manuscript Archives of the National Széchényi Library.
The letters are all autographs, written in German, and addressed to Ferenc Erkel.
His acquaintance with the composer and conductor began in the 1850s when
Ellinger became a member of the National Theatre in Pest. The “General Musikdirektor”
– as Ellinger calls him –, founder of the Philharmonic Society (1853) and
co-founder of the Academy of Music (1886), was a dominant figure of Pest musical
life. As such, he could have been an important mentor in the singer’s career.
Although Erkel’s letters to Ellinger are lost, from these surviving ego documents
we can reconstruct a possible dialogue between them. In his letters to Erkel,
Ellinger covered many topics, seemingly all of which were connected to one goal:
returning to Pest and the National Theatre. At the same time, it is important to
consider the additional value of these ego documents: they also give insight into
Ellinger’s personality, motivations and expectations.18
15 József Ellinger’s letters to Ferenc Erkel 24 December 1865, 4 April 1866, 5 April 1866,
5 September 1866, Budapest, H-Bn, Fond XII/256 nos. 2–5.
16 The letters are mentioned in regesta-form under nos. 151–154. in: Kálmán Isoz, Zenei kéziratok
1 Zenei levelek [A Magyar Nemzeti Múzeum könyvtárának cimjegyzéke 6]. Budapest
1924, pp. 36–37. Regesta-form is an archival guide with a brief description of the content
and form of a manuscript, e.g. sign, short summary, status.
17 Sándor Erkel’s message to Ellinger (written to his father’s card), asking him to sing in
Meyerbeer’s La Juive in the role of Eleazar 1 June, 1881. On the verso with Ellinger’s positive
answer. Sándor Erkel to József Ellinger 1 June 1881, Budapest, Hungarian State Opera
Memorial Collection (H-Bo), 81.243.243.
18 Winfried Schulze, Ego-Dokumente: Annäherung an den Menschen in der Geschichte? Vorüberlegungen
für die Tagung “Ego-Dokumente”, in: Ego-Dokumente: Annäherung an den
Menschen in der Geschichte, ed. by Winfried Schulze. Berlin 1996, pp. 11–30, at p. 28.
72

One of his subjects is his singing career and loyalty. In this context it is of special
interest that when writing from Rotterdam he evokes his time in Pest. On 24 December
1865, he stated in retrospect that, because he was the only first tenor at the
National Theatre in Pest, he maintained his repertoire alone, so in the past few years
in Hungary any absence due to illness or other reasons was out of the question.
However, as he was busy with other guest appearances, the overwork became occasionally
apparent in his performances. The lack of tenors and the type of contract
may have contributed to this outcome, as the theatre director had meticulously
outlined his responsibilities. This is evidently what he was referring to in 1862.19 The
singer’s personal tone can also be felt: his words point to self-reflection about matters
other than the workload: voice fatigue and irreplaceable knowledge of the repertoire;
he is arguing his case, proving his loyalty and irreplaceability. Interestingly,
this is the longest and most personal of his four preserved letters. His tone and word
choice also show a temperament that can rise above the frustration caused by the
pressure on his voice and the lack of recognition of his hard work in Pest:
You will kindly remember yourself that during my eight years of activity
at the National Theatre, I was completely alone for four years, and yet
always made it possible [for the theatre] to maintain the repertoire, that I
was never distracted by illness, and that although I was somewhat unhappily
indisposed during my two guest appearances at the German Theatre,
the circumstances and inconveniences to which this indisposition is attributable
do not exist at the National Theatre (as you yourself noted). If I
have had the misfortune of a wrong voice-production (“falschen
Tonansatzes”)20 a few times, I have since my time in Paris and Brussels
undergone such sufficient vocal studies with the most skilled teachers that
I am completely weaned from this bad habit.21
19 This position and his responsibility had also been emphasized by Ellinger in his own memoir
from 1890: “Ich war in diesen jahren der einzige Tenorist an der Oper und musst folglich
alles mögliche singen, sonst wären wir gar oft in die Lage gekommen, dass statt des Opernabendes
entweder ein Schauspiel oder Lustspiel hätte gegeben werden müssen”, J. Ellinger,
see note 14, 27. 8. 1890, p. 2.
20 In this period, the word Tonansatz referred to the appropriate mechanism and technique of
the voice-production, primarily the capability to breathe in the right way and to sound clear
and graceful. To achieve this, all musicians and singers needed a proper musical education.
According to Ábrányi, without the knowledge of Anschlag, Strich, Ansatz there is no art.
Kornél Ábrányi “Havi szemle a decemberi hangversenyek felett”, Pesti Napló Nr. 2104,
21. 1. 1857, p. 2. Reading Ellinger’s words, it seems that he felt his vulnerability in this term,
as well.
21 Ellinger to Erkel, Rotterdam, 24 December 1865. H-Bn, Fond XII/256 no. 2. For the original
wording see Appendix 1.
73

Another topic is the status and development of his voice. We can find two references
to singing lessons in Paris, but a reference also appears to lessons in Frankfurt am
Main and Brussels, which strengthened his voice and made him give up his Unart
(bad habits).22 The fact that he considered that his voice needed to be further polished
is also confirmed by the fact that he went to vocal teachers in the 1860s.
During his time away from Pest (1862–1865), Ellinger sang in operas in Rotterdam,
and during this period he visited the renowned teacher Gustave Hyppolyte Roger
in Paris.23 At these lessons, Ellinger received advice from a professional teacher,
whose repertoire was similar to his (Auber-, Halévy-, and Meyerbeer-operas), with
one exception: Wagner.
In a letter from 4 April 1866, we get the most detailed information about his
foreign singing classes. In his own words, Ellinger (at the age of about 45) took
vocal lessons in Brussels between August and September 1864, and between May 6
and 23 of 1865 in Paris.24 This process was followed by a longer period of study in
Frankfurt am Main, in July and August 1865 under Professor Mulder, whom he
praised more than the other teachers.25 It seems that these singing lessons meant
an advance in both technique and repertory for him. That is why he felt able to ask
Erkel politely but confidently to help him to return to the Hungarian stage. At the
same time, he also describes his planning strategy: following Erkel’s advice, he
requested two to three weeks to think about his situation before signing his new
contract in Rotterdam.
22 “[…] und wenn mir einige Male das Unglück eines falschen Tonansatzes passirte, so habe
ich, seit der Zeit in Paris und Brüssel bei den geschicktesten Lehrern, so hinreichende
Gesangstudien durchgemacht, daß ich dieser Unart gänzlich entwöhnt bin”, ibidem. The
word Unart refers to misbehavior or a bad habit. In the case of a singer in the nineteenth
century this expression refers to both vocal and stage appearance.
23 Gustave Hyppolyte Roger (1815–1879); they possibly met in Pest in 1858 while Roger performed
as a guest at the National Theater, in Meyerbeer’s Le prophète. Magyar színművészeti
lexikon ed. by Aladár Schöpfflin. I. 1929, p. 402–403.
24 According to his memoir in Budapester Tagblatt, in May 1864 he worked in Köln and
in September went to Paris and paid to have singing-lessons with Roger. “Im Mai 1864
wirkte ich in Köln, im September desselben Jahres ging ich nach Paris und nahm Unterrichtsstunden
bei dem berühmten Gesangsmeister Roger.” J. Ellinger, see note 14,
27. 8. 1890, p. 3.
25 The same information can be found in ibidem, p. 2. “Professor Mulder” was probably the
Amsterdam-born pianist, composer and music teacher Richard Mulder (1822–1874). He was
also an impresario and husband of the singer Lia Duport and then of Agnes Schmidt. See
François-Joseph Fétis, Biographie universelle des musiciens et bibliographie générale de
musique, vol. 2. Paris 1880, p. 252. I thank Martin Eybl for his help in making this identification.
74

I would certainly make no attempt to go to Pest, and would not even wish
to do so, unless, thank God!, my cause was already secure. As a result of
your writing, I did not sign the contract I have here, and begged for 14–21
days to think about it.26
The very next day, in a letter dated 5 April (for which the data on the envelope allows
us to ascertain the postal route), he immediately asked Erkel to send him the
relevant sheet music (“Parthien”) if the intendant Sámuel Radnótfáy (“Herr Hofrath
Rádnotfay”) were to approve his guest appearance. Among the roles mentioned
here are two works by Erkel (Hunyadi László, Bánk bán), as well as the main
role of the Troubadour and Eleazar in Halévy’s La Juive – the latter was Ellinger’s
legendary, much-praised role, which he still performed in the 1880s.27
We can gain a broader insight into the careful preparation of his return to Pest
from the perspective of the end of his Dutch period as well. At this point we can
ask: why might Ellinger have left? In his first letter, he mysteriously hinted that he
had not taken Erkel’s advice before, and regretted it. We can only guess whether
this concerned leaving the Hungarian stage, resting his voice, or developing it. In
this instance, the contemporary Hungarian press focused on József Ellinger and
his wife, Teréz Engst,28 because of some unspecified deficiency in their vocal training,
after which material reasons also came into play. Guest-singing and performances
abroad did not necessarily help his or his wife’s critical reception in
Hungary.
It is true that after the Ellinger-couple had left, the Hungarian press was full
of news about their successful appearances abroad. Nevertheless, the Rotterdam-contract
failed to meet the expectations associated with József Ellinger. Even
26 Ellinger to Erkel, Rotterdam, 4 April 1866. H-Bn, Fond XII/256 no. 3. For the original
wording see Appendix 1.
27 “Hunyadi, Bánk Ban [sic] Troubad., Eleazar”, Ellinger to Erkel, Rotterdam, 5 April 1866,
H-Bn, Fond XII/256 no. 4. According to Tibor Tallián, Ellinger and his wife belonged to
the tidy singers: their role-sheets remained within the music collection of the National
Theatre Pest. Tibor Tallián, Schodel Rozália és a hivatásos magyar operajátszás kezdetei.
Budapest 2015, p. 503.
28 Teréz Engst (1835–1898) opera singer, alto-mezzosoprano. According to Márai-
Grosschmidt’s letter to the intendant of the National Theater Pest, 1853, she was also a
“sound-phenomenon” and was often mentioned with her husband. Her career mainly took
place abroad: Vienna, Rotterdam, Paris, Hannover and Württemberg. She was amongst the
first singing teachers in Pest. The Ellinger’s daughter, Jozefa Ellinger (soprano), and son in
law, Vilmos Maleczky (baritone) were also members of the National Theater Pest. With
grandchildren Oszkár and Bianca Maleczky, the family became a singer dynasty. Somogyi
Vilmos, A Maleczky-család, in: Muzsika 2/2 (1959) pp. 40–42.; Vasárnapi Ujság Nr. 43,
23. 10. 1898, p. 755.
75

though he was given main roles and attractive opportunities, the press in the
Netherlands also typically praised him, particularly for the volume of his voice. In
the Rotterdam premiere of Wagner’s Lohengrin, his surprisingly good declamation
and sensitivity were extolled, while in the same month, in Utrecht, the local press
had to shield him following an embarrassing moment caused by his hoarseness
during a performance of the opera Lucia di Lammermoor.29
Ellinger made several appearances in the Netherlands between 1862 and
1866,30 and although his performances received mixed reactions, his employment
still suggests that he attained a certain status there. His letters from 1865 also prove
that he had the chance to renew his contract in Rotterdam.31
However, it seems that in 1865 his circumstances were to alter in terms of repertoire.32
In that year, some passages in the letters reveal that Ellinger and his wife
spent their holiday in Pest and that the news about his return were published –
along with their rebuttal. He then gave a guest performance of Troubadour at the
German Theatre in Pest, which was followed by a brief and quite sharp review.33
In connection with an expected guest performance in Vienna, a one-sentence bulletin
also claims that “the tenor has to gather himself, because in the imperial city,
dr. Gustave Georg Gunz reaps success”.34 The circumstances of the failure of the
Vienna-contract remain unknown, but the pressure of expectations could have
been one possible reason. It is quite remarkable that despite the negative comments
in Hungary, Ellinger still wanted to come back.
29 Utrechtsche Provinciale en Stads-Courant No. 274. 17. 11. 1862, p. 1.
30 See Appendix 2.
31 Ellinger to Erkel Rotterdam, 24 December 1865, H-Bn, Fond XII/256 no. 2.
32 A selection of Ellinger’s roles in Rotterdam in 1862: Lyonel (Flotow: Martha), Edgar
(Donizetti: Lucia di Lammermoor); in 1863: Lohengrin (Wagner), Lucius (Hiller: Die Katakomben),
in 1864: Manrico (Verdi: Il trovatore), Eleazar (Halévy: La Juive), Faust (Gounod),
Lohengrin; in 1865: Alessandro Stradella (Flotow), Huon (Weber: Oberon, König der Elfen),
Ferdinand (Donizetti: La Favorita); in 1866: Bodo (Thooft: Aleida van Holland). See Table
in Appendix.
33 After his successful Manrico in Rotterdam in 1864, he surely hoped for the same reception
in his own country, but after a short intermezzo in the press sharp criticism arose again.
One of the most unpleasant moments for Ellinger in this respect might have been the review
of Erkel’s opera Bánk bán in 1866 when the critics were disappointed by his performance
and missed the gentle colour of his voice and the sensitive characterization of the
main protagonist. [“Ehez lágyság és gyöngédség szükséges, és ez hiányzik Ellinger kemény
hangjából. Játékával sem tudja eléggé kifejezni.”] Fővárosi Lapok Nr. 175, 2. 8. 1866, p. 708.
34 Fővárosi Lapok Nr. 168, 25. 7. 1865, p. 642. [“Ellinger ur, színházunk egykori tenoristája, a
bécsi operaszínháznál fog vendégszerepelni. Össze kell magát szednie, mert ott épen most
dr. Gunz tenorista nagy szerencsével énekel.”]
76

His 1865 letter marks the first part of the dramatic arc of his return: self-criticism,
memories of the past, education, homesickness. In addition, to win Erkel’s benevolence,
he expressed his own loyalty, development, and asked for roles in Pest before
the next season – it seems like the kind of strategy a singer would pursue.
Therefore, I am openly asking you, Mr. Erkel, to make a contract of approximately
6 or 12 roles at the National Stage possible for me starting
from May. My most ardent aspiration and effort will be aimed solely at
offering my talent and abilities to the National Institute with the greatest
possible self-sacrifice and with all my strength, because my years of
absence did not suppress, but revived an even stronger national feeling in
me.35
In his surviving letters to Erkel, it is also peculiar that he does not mention his
wife, the singer Teréz Engst, even though they appeared together on Ferenc Márai
Grosschmid’s recommendation in 1853.36 Furthermore, their contract for 1855 to
Pest was still almost together and they are mentioned together in Rotterdam, more
than once as members of the company.37 Interestingly, we have no information
about the return of Ellinger’s wife to Pest in the 1860s, although her holiday stay
there was not a secret; moreover it is also suggested that she was invited to perform.
But József Ellinger’s return to the theatre came about as early as the beginning of
1863 through the mediation of a certain agent from Berlin, Roeder, who presented
the singer’s demands to the theatre’s management.38 An agreement was not
reached: the theatre did not accept the conditions, mainly for financial reasons it
seems. As for Engst, perhaps because from the repertoire she had previously sung
in Pest, virtually the only roles to have received praise were Azucena and Macbeth,
when she sang Erzsébet in Hunyadi László (Erkel) or Desdemona in Othello (Verdi),
even the society papers questioned her dramatic characterization, despite generally
35 Ellinger to Erkel, Rotterdam, 24 December 1865. H-Bn, Fond XII/256 no. 2. For the original
wording see Appendix 1.
36 The letter of Márai Grosschmid, in which he conveyed the talent of the Ellinger-couple.
Vienna, 5 January, 1853. Budapest, H-Bo, 81.298.298.
37 „het talentvolle echtpaar Ellinger van de Rotterdamsche opera” Rotterdamsche Courant
Nr. 61, 10. 3. 1864, p. 2. Furthermore, even in the Dutch press Terézia Engst was mentioned
as “mevrouw Ellinger” or “Mevr. Ellinger”. Nieuwe Amsterdamsche Courant Nr. 10052,
14. 3. 1864, p. 2; Rotterdamsche Courant Nr. 213, 2. 9. 1864, p. 4; Utrechtsch Provinciaal en
Stedelijk Dagblad Nr. 67, 20. 3. 1865, p. 2. See Appendix 2.
38 Ferdinand Röder (1809–1880) actor, director, agent – mentioned as “Roeder Ferdinánd”:
Zenészeti Lapok Nr. 18, 29. 1. 1863, p. 144; Pesti Napló Nr. 3885, 25. 1. 1863, p. 3. Ellinger sang
as a guest singer in Berlin in 1864 too. See Signale für die Musikalische Welt, Nr. 48,
17. 11. 1864, p. 881.
77

praising her voice.39 From autumn 1860, the press began to regard Teréz Engst as
a singer with hopeful Viennese plans who seemed she was about to leave.40 With
her departure, her dual ability as alto and dramatic singer had to be replaced too.
For Ellinger the tenor role alone was announced. Engst’s incompetence – which
had already been pointed out of her 1855 performances41 – received somewhat similar
criticism to that of her husband, for example: that she possessed a remarkable
vocal foundation but lacked a classical singing education, that she often forced her
voice, and that her acting ability was intermitant.42 They were both strikingly
criticized for their poor Hungarian pronunciation, which was surely due to their
German-speaking socialization. Another problem they each posed the theatre was
their salary. According to the National Theatre’s budget in 1856/1857 József Ellinger
was the most expensive male singer (4000 fl), and his wife’s payment (2000 fl) also
constituted a significant amount of the budget for the season in Pest.43 The main
problem was her demand for a pay rise despite missing performances.44 Due to
these, her name became synonymous with unreliability.45 In May 1862, her
repeated appearances in Halévy’s La Juive and in Meyerbeer’s Le prophète in
Hannover gave sufficient basis for her husband to follow her abroad.46 In October
1865, after her success at the Rotterdam Opera, she travelled to Paris for a Meyerbeer
opera performance.47 Maybe her connections could help her husband develop
his singing career too. Compared to the home stage, her new opportunities in
Breslau,48 Vienna,49 London50 and Stuttgart51 could also have played an important
part in making her return to Pest even less uncertain in 1866. Furthermore,
39 Divatcsarnok Nr. 32, 7. 8. 1860, p. 255; Nővilág Nr. 34, 19. 8. 1860, p. 544.
40 Pesti Napló Nr. 3215, 27. 10. 1860, p. 2.
41 See Zongor’s negatve criticism in Divatcsarnok Nr. 36, 30. 6. 1855, p. 718. about Engst’s role
in Donizetti: Lucretia Borgia.
42 Divatcsarnok Nr. 44, 10. 8. 1855, p. 879.
43 Anzeige 1856/1857, Budapest, National Széchényi Library Theatre and Music Department,
H-Bn, Fond 4/87/2, fol. 75–78. Also in the press: Hölgyfutár Nr. 59, 19. 5. 1859, p. 498;
Hölgyfutár Nr. 63, 28. 5. 1859, p. 529. The article mentioned that the opera performance
played to an empty hall.
44 Pesti Napló Nr. 2690, 29. 1. 1859, p. 2: While Hollósyné had four performances within
11 days, Mrs. Ellinger was fighting for a pay rise for one performance over the whole month.
45 Hölgyfutár Nr. 107, 8. 9. 1859, p. 879; Nővilág Nr. 23, 3. 6. 1860, p. 367.
46 Sürgöny Nr. 123, 28. 5. 1862, p. 2.
47 Der Zwischen-Akt, Nr. 225, 11. 10. 1865, p. 4; Tagespost Nr. 252, 3. 11. 1865, p. 7. “Frau Ellinger
v. Paris”.
48 Wiener Zeitung Nr. 9, 12. 1. 1862, p. 14.
49 Wiener-Theater Chronik Nr. 37, 11. 9. 1862, p. 2.; Der Zwischen-Akt Nr. 263, 3. 10. 1862, p. 3.
50 Színházi Látcső Nr. 50, 26. 5. 1863, p. 3.
51 Új Idők Nr. 44, 30. 10. 1898, p. 398.
78

from the advertiser of a charity concert held in Pest in aid of the German-Prussian
war, we learn that Engst was “returning home to her family”.52 It seems that she
had no reason or motivation to return to the Hungarian stage, despite Ellinger
writing in 1865 how homesick he had grown.
From Ellinger’s point of view, his comeback in Pest brought with it many new
tasks and the opportunity to present his Wagner repertoire at home. Although the
familiar challenges (forced singing and hoarseness) seemed to continue during his
performances in Pest-Buda, he remained loyal to the National Theatre of Pest, and
even helped it with jump-ins.
The personal tone of Ellinger’s letters shows that he could count on Erkel both in
professional and personal matters. Judging from the beginning of his letter written
on 4 April 1866, he received Erkel’s message not from the capital but from Gyula,
where Erkel was born, so he could count on the composer’s support while he was
away from Pest and his official position. As one of Erkel’s foremost tenors, he
might have felt he had earned this privilege. What’s even more interesting is that
he felt able to bother the director two days in a row. On 5 April 1866, Ellinger asked
for the mentioned “Parthien” of his recent roles by return post – that is on the
condition that the Intendant [Sámuel] Radnótfáy approved his request for guest
performances in Pest.53 The composer’s advice – after being ignored – was carefully
followed as Ellinger gave a detailed answer to the question of whether his voice was
in good condition.
Another example refers to a strategy. He followed Erkel’s advice about contracts:
in his second letter, he asked for two to three weeks to think about his status
and his opportunities in Rotterdam before making a final decision about his return.
His letter from 5 September 1866 was already written in Pest (“a Loco”). It is
a kind congratulation to the composer-conductor Erkel, whom, for his excellent
conducting in Fidelio, the tenor gifted a “[M]eerschaum Pfeife” (a small smoking
pipe). This shows that his loyalty to Erkel did not waver even after his return.
Ellinger’s return to the Hungarian stage was a success. During his singing lessons
and in Rotterdam he had encountered the Wagner repertoire and became the lead
singer of several Hungarian premieres, such as Lohengrin, Tannhäuser, and Rienzi.
At the same time, the old trend seems to have been repeated in Pest. Kornél
Ábrányi’s criticism referred to the singer’s excessive use of his voice and its early
petering out in Rienzi’s title role,
52 Pesti Napló Nr. 4876, 21. 7. 1866, p. 2.
53 Ellinger to Erkel Rotterdam, 5 April 1865, H-Bn, Fond XII/256 no. 4.
79

such a role, by the way, is able to ruin even a singer with the strongest
lungs […]. But in the current conditions, there is great difficulty because
for the title role, apart from Ellinger, we do not have a suitable Heldentenor.
And for him, if he does not want to ruin himself, this role is inappropriate
and will surely not earn him any laurels or applause.54
In 1870, an anonymous reviewer notes about Ellinger’s Arnold in Rossini’s Wilhelm
Tell that “he sang with amazing power and produced several moments of artful
meaning. If we still hear him with such power, we always remember what could
have been of him in the heavens of art, if only he had been educated in the best
methods from the beginning!”55
It seems that his voice survived the trials. The Hungarian periodical Zenelap
said:
At the National Theatre Ellinger dominated the stage in classical, modern
and national operas between 1855–1879, and with one exception (namely
the Rienzi premiere) he never distracted the piece with even the slightest
indisposition. But he did so that when he was already retired: he helped
the National Theatre out of the most serious difficulties several times.56
Published in 1891, Vasárnapi Ujság’s obituary gives the audience’s point of view too:
His powerful voice made the audience overlook his lack of dramatic characterization.
Although outwardly he was not born for Lohengrin, and he
was far from the Hungarian heroic figure of Hunyadi László, but his rare
strong voice was continually applauded, and his Eleazar was not soon forgotten
by those who heard him.57
Comparing the content of Ellinger’s four letters to the opinions expressed by critics
at the time can provide further insight into the singer’s career. The decision to stay
abroad in Rotterdam was one that could prove a crucial turning point in his career.
Ellinger’s own words reveal his vulnerability and the harm he suffered during this
difficult time. From media reports, we glean an external view of his struggles with
his singing technique, but these ego documents also reveal the personal perspective,
his own painful experience of these failures.
54 Zenészeti Lapok Nr. 29, 19. 11. 1874, p. 231–232.
55 Zenészeti Lapok Nr. 10, 11. 9. 1870, p. 767.
56 Zenelap Nr. 10, 27. 5. 1891, p. 6.
57 Vasárnapi Ujság Nr. 19, 10. 5. 1891, p. 306.
80

The letters disclose a possible dialogue between a nineteenth century tenor and a
musical director: Erkel’s advice and Ellinger’s self-reconstruction as he fought to
find the right technique for himself while homesick. Taken together, this suggests
careful preparation for his return as a singer. It is also quite remarkable how this
process remained hidden from the public – during the Dutch-period too. Even in
his memoir, he suggests that he returned to the National Theatre in Pest on Erkel’s
invitation, and says nothing about his Rotterdam period at all.58 Thus, we can also
observe another, more sensitive part of Ellinger’s proud character: an artist who
was able and willing to renew and polish his voice in his mature years, but one who
concealed his discomfort at asking for favours and who was reluctant to appear
disloyal to his Hungarian audience.
58 “Im März des Jahres 1866 erhielt ich ein schmeichelhaftes Schreiben von Franz Erkel, in
welchem er mich aufforderte, neuerlich an das Pester Nationaltheater zu kommen.”
J. Ellinger, see note 14, 27. 8. 1890, p. 3.
81

82
Plate 2: Letter from József Ellinger to Ferenc Erkel, Rotterdam, 4 April 1866, p. 2 (with
signature). Manuscript Archives of the National Széchényi Library, Fond XII/256 no. 3.

APPENDIX 1
Letters of József Ellinger to Ferenc Erkel
Rotterdam, 24 December 186559
Geehrter Herr v. Erkel!
Die vielen Beweise Ihrer Zuneigung, welche Sie mir stets bewiesen lassen mich
hoffen, daß Sie mir auch heute Ihre Gunst nicht entzogen, obgleich ich Ihren
wohlgemeinten Rath nicht befolgend, damals einen Irrthum beging, der mich später
reute.
Ihr Einfluß und Ihr langjähriges verdienstvolles Wirken am Nati[o]naltheater, lassen
mich hoffen, daß meine Bitte um Ihre gütige Verwendung keine nutzlose sein
wird, umsomehr da alle diejenigen welche meine Stimme von jeher kennen mir
versichern, daß dieselbe an Kraft und Umfang, eh’r zu als abgenommen hat.
Sie werden sich gütigst selbst erinnern, daß ich bei meiner 8 jährigen Thätigkeit,
am Nationaltheater, während 4 Jahre[n] ganz allein stand, und dennoch stets das
Aufrechthalten des Repertoirs ermöglichte, nie durch Krankheit störte und davon
abgesehen, daß ich bei meinem zweimaligen Gastspiel am deutschen Theater unglücklicher
indisponirt war, die Umstände und Unannehmlichkeiten, denen diese
Indisposition zur Last fällt existieren am Nat. Theater (wie Sie selbst bemerkten)
nicht, und wenn mir einige Male das Unglück eines falschen Tonansatzes passirte,
so habe ich, seit der Zeit in Paris und Brüssel bei den geschicktesten Lehrern, so
hinreichende Gesangstudien durchgemacht, daß ich dieser Unart gänzlich entwöhnt
bin.
Ich bitte Sie daher Herr von Erkel ergebenst, mir an der Nati[o]nalbühne, ein auf
Engagement abzielendes, von etwa 6 oder 12 Rollen von anfang Mai ab, zu ermöglichen.
Mein eifrigstes Streben und Bemühen wird nur darauf gerichtet sein, mein
Talent und meine Fähigkeiten mit größtmöglichster Aufopferung aller Kräfte dem
National Institut zu widmen, da jahrelange Abwesenheit das Nationalgefühl in
mir nicht erdrückt; und dasselbe in voller Kraft neu erwacht ist.
In jedem Falle bitte ich Sie dringend, sich meiner Empfehlung warm anzunehmen,
mein Verhalten wird Ihnen beweisen daß Sie Ihre Gunst keinem Undankbaren
zugewendet, und mein Bestreben wird es sein Ihrer gütigen Protektion nur Ehre
zu machen.
Mit vollkommenster Hochachtung und Ergebenheit
Ellinger Jos. Wil.
Rotterdam, am 24. December 1865.
59 H-Bn, Fond XII/256 no. 2.
83

Rotterdam, 4 April 186660
Geehrter Herr Erkel!
Mit vielem Vergnügen habe ich Ihre geehrten Zeilen a d. Gyula 29/3 66 gelesen,
und habe sofort Ihren wohlgemeinten Rathe befolgt. Auf die Frage, (dies Alles
können Sie natürlich nur dann versuchen, wenn Sie noch Krafft und Ausdauer
genug in Ihrer Stimme fühlen) kann ich Sie mit besstem Gewissen versichern, dass
ich mich noch nie so wohl, Kräfftig, und ausdauernd bei Stimme fühlte wie in der
heurigen Saison. Wenn Sie sich die Mühe nehmen wollten und von Hier durch
irgend Jemanden schrieftliche Nachrichten einholen zu lassen, so wird ein Jeder
und wenn es auch mein Feind sein sollte, Dasselbe sagen. Nebenbei muss ich
Ihnen bemerken, dass ich meine Ferienzeit selten Müssig zubrachte. Im Mon. Aug.
Sept. 64. nahm ich Gesangstunden in Brüssel u. Paris, vom 6 bis 23 Mai, und dann
den Mon. Juli und August 65 studierte ich bei Professor Mulder in Frankfurt a/M,
der mir als Gesanglehrer noch lieber, wie die Pariser u Brüseler.
Ich würde bestimmt keinen Versuch machen, und kein Verlangen haben nach Pest
zu gehen, wenn ich Gott dank! meiner Sache nicht sicher wäre. In Folge Ihres
Sreibens [sic], habe ich den mir vorliegenden Kontrakt für hier nicht unterschrieben,
und eine 14- bis 21tägige Bedenkzeit ausgebethen.
Nunn thuen Sie das Ihrige, und es wird bestimmt nich [sic] versäumen […]61 zu
thun
Ihr Sie Grüssender Jos. W. Ellinger
Rotterdam, 4/4. 66
60 H-Bn, Fond XII/256 no. 3.
61 The text is illegible here because of the damaged paper.
84

Rotterdam, 5 April 186662
Lieber Herr v. Erkel!
Im Falle Herr Hofrath v. Rádnotfay die Güte hat mein Ansuchen um ein Gastspiel
auf Engagement zu bewilligen, so bitte ich Sie um die Gefälligkeit, mir mit wendung
der Post, folgende Parthien zukomen zu lassen. Hunyadi, Bánk Ban [sic]
Troubad. Eleazar. Die Textbücher die an der Cassa verkauft werden können auch
beigelegt sein. Sie und die Ihrigen freundlichst Grüßend bleibe ich
hochachtungsvoll
ergebener
Jos. W. Ellinger
Rotterdam, 5/4. 66
Pest, 5 September 186663
Pest, 5. Septem./ 1866.
Herrn v. Erkel
General Musikdirektor
Euer Wohlgeboren
Haben mit Ihrem ausgezeichneten Dirigieren der gestrigen Vorstellung Fidelio mir
so viel Freude u. Vergnügen gemacht, daß ich nicht anders umhin kann, als, Sie
Hochgeehrter Herr zu bitten diese kleine Meerschaum Pfeife als Zeichen meiner
besondere Hochachtung gütigst annähmen zu wollen.
Mich Ihrer stetten Freundschaft empfehlend zeichne ich mit aller Hochachtung[.]
Ihr ergebener
Jos. W. Ellinger
62 H-Bn, Fond XII/256 no. 4. On envelope: “Sr Wohlgeboren/ herrn Franz Erkel/ General
Musik Direktor/ franko/ Pesth/ Hatwaner Gasse z. Elefanten”. Stamp descriptions on the
envelope: “FRANCO”; “EMMERICH/ OBERHAUSEN/ 64 III”; “PEST/ 7/4 /Abend”.
Fragments of red wax signum.
63 H-Bn, Fond XII/256 no. 5. On envelope: “An Wohlgeboren | Herrn | Franz v Erkel | General
Musikdirektor | a Loco”. On the paper there is an embossed stamp.
85

APPENDIX 2
Ellinger’s main performances in the Netherlands64
Date City Event or Opera (Role)
November 1862 Rotterdam Flotow: Martha (Lyonel)
10 or 17 November 1862 Utrecht Donizetti: Lucia di Lammermoori (Edgar)
19 November 1862 Rotterdam Wagner: Lohengrin (title-role)
9 April 1863 Amsterdam “27ste vocaal en instrumentaal concert”
5 November 1863 Rotterdam Wagner: Lohengrin (title-role)
21 December 1863 Rotterdam Hiller: Die Katakomben (Lucius)
14 March 1864 (?) Concert featuring Ellinger and his wife
April 1864 Rotterdam Verdi: Troubadour (Manrico)
12 October 1864 Rotterdam Wagner: Lohengrin (title-role)
16 October 1864 Rotterdam Halévy: La Juive (Eleazar)
20 November 1864 Rotterdam Gounod: Faust (title-role)
12 December 1864 Rotterdam Wagner: Lohengrin (title-role)
4 January 1865 Rotterdam Flotow: Alessandro Stradella (title-role)
28 January 1865 Rotterdam Webern: Oberon, König der Elfen
(Huon von Bordeaux)
20 March 1865 Utrecht (?) Donizetti: La Favorita (Ferdinand)
10 March 1866 Rotterdam Thooft: Aleida van Holland (Bodo), premiere
64 Caecilia; allgemeen muzikaal tijdschrift van Nederland Nr. 21, 1. 11. 1864, p. 203; Nieuwe
Amsterdamsche Courant Nr. 9769, 15. 4. 1863, p. 5; Nr. 10052, 14. 3. 1864, p. 2; Rotterdamsche
Courant Nr. 270, 12. 11. 1862, p. 3; Nr. 187, 4. 8. 1864, p. 5; Nr. 213, 2. 9. 1864, p. 4; Nr. 250,
14. 10. 1864, p. 5; Nr. 8, 10. 1. 1865, p. 2; Utrechtsche Provinciale en Stads-Courant Nr. 274,
17. 11. 1862, p. 1–2; Zenészeti Lapok Nr. 30, 21. 4. 1864, p. 240; https://theaterencyclopedie.
nl/wiki/ (30 March 2023).
86

Lili Veronika Békéssy (Budapest)
“… A SON OF OUR COUNTRY
ASKS FOR THE PATRONAGE
OF YOUR ESTEEMED JOURNAL.”
Sen. Kornél Ábrányi’s Network
Kornél Ábrányi (1822–1903) was a key figure in Hungarian musical life,1 but his
wide-ranging, international correspondence is still waiting to be evaluated. It has
only recently received greater attention during a project in the Department for
Hungarian Music History.2 This chapter, undertaken with a selection of his letters,
highlights Ábrányi’s multifaceted activities, demonstrates his role as a gatekeeper,
and provides examples of his activities as a tastemaker and intermediary, a contact
person and music critic. In addition to a study of the archival documents and press
reports, the ego documents associated with Ábrányi constitute a special dimension
in the research of nineteenth-century Hungarian music history. These letters complement
the official archive documents, allowing us to learn about how musical life
functioned from a personal viewpoint. Through these documents, we can see the
unofficial side of the local institutional system, which sheds new light on the operation
of the national movement in terms of his personal national and international
network. Thanks to these letters, the official, public documents can be further interrogated
to provide further explanation for several phenomena observed at the
time, such as the organization of press representation, the gaining of contacts and
the maintenance of international relationships. Indeed, Ábrányi’s correspondence
reveals a multifaceted network of national and international connections. From
the letters he sent and received, we can see that he was committed to the cause of
national music and musical quality. Ábrányi used his influence in many ways: he
participated in the institutionalization of the music scene and in charity, and he
supported selected members of the music scene, serving the national purpose
through articles and contacts. The present article offers an insight into Kornél
Ábrányi’s international network through ego documents, as well as his influence
on musical life both in Hungary and across borders.
The present study uses the ego documents as a starting point for the examination
of certain events and musical phenomena, supplementing them with and
interpreting them through contemporary press and other archival materials.
1 Kornél Ábrányi is often remembered in the literature as “senior” to distinguish him from
his oldest son, Kornél Ábrányi junior (1849–1913), the writer.
2 See the project in detail: https://zti.hu/files/mzt/abranyi/konferencia.html, accessed Jul. 21,
2023.
87

Although those of Ábrányi’s letters selected for this study concern the activities of
leading figures in Hungarian music life, this study aims rather to inquire about
how everyday connections functioned in Hungarian musical life (Alltagsgeschichte)
during the second half of the nineteenth century.
BIOGRAPHICAL OUTLINE
As far as the treatment of sources is concerned, Hungarian music historiography3
is still defined by thinking about national cultural memory, which was largely influenced
by Kornél Ábrányi.4 Although there are still plenty of gaps in his biography,
Ábrányi’s life path can be broadly outlined.5 Kornél Ábrányi was born into a
noble family in 1822. His ancestors’ properties in Nyírábrány and Nagyvárad
(today: Oradea, Romania) belonged to the centers of Hungarian intellectual life
during the Reform Era.6 The Ábrányis’ house was visited by prominent representatives
of the Hungarian music scene, such as the famous gipsy violinist János
Bihari (1764–1827), “the father of csárdás” Márk Rózsavölgyi (1789–1848), and the
composer János Lavotta (1764–1820). These figures (together with Antal Csermák)
were referred to as the true representatives of what was called national music in
nineteenth-century Hungarian musical thinking: during the century, many scores
were published after their death in collections of volumes, and there was a demand
3 Regarding the historiography of music, the last few years have brought new research, but it
is still taking shape. For further details, check the website of the Institute for Musicology,
Department for Hungarian Music History, https://zti.hu/index.php/hu/mzt, accessed
Jul. 21, 2023.
4 See Katalin Kim, “A döntő szó úgy is mindig és mindenben az idő jogához tartozik.” id. Ábrányi
Kornél és a magyar zenetörténetírás [“The Decisive Word Always and In Everything
Belongs to the Right of Time.” – Kornél Ábrányi Sr. and Hungarian Music Historiography],
Budapest 2022, https://doi.org/10.23714/mzo.011, accessed Jul. 21, 2023.
5 See Katalin Szőnyiné Szerző, Ábrányi Kornél, id., in: Brockhaus–Riemann Zenei lexikon,
vol. 1, ed. by Antal Boronkay. Budapest 1983, p. 11–12; Dezső Legánÿ, id. Ábrányi Kornél, in:
The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians, ed. by Stanley Sadie. London 1 1980,
2
2001; Ferenc Bónis, Ábrányi, Kornél id., in: MGG Online, ed. by Laurenz Lütteken. New
York–Kassel–Stuttgart 2016, https://www.mgg-online.com/mgg/stable/11228, accessed
Jul. 21, 2023; Sára Aksza Grosz, Id. Ábrányi Kornél életrajza. Budapest 2022, https://zti.hu/
files/mzt/abranyi/eletrajz.html, accessed Jul. 21, 2023.
6 The Hungarian Reform Era (1825–1848) meant fundamental changes in Hungary, marked
by the figures of count István Széchenyi and Lajos Kossuth, with the development of infrastructure,
agriculture and industry, the beginning of the structural change in society, and
the spread of the nationalism and liberalism. The national movement tried to implement a
culture based on the Hungarian language.
88

for a collected edition of their oeuvre.7 The first impressions of their music on the
young Ábrányi’s musical taste was shaped by this personal contact, including his
meeting with the young Ferenc Erkel (1810–1893) in 1834, who also stayed with the
Ábrányi family for an extended period of time, and whose presence may have inspired
then young Kornél to choose a career in music.8 His personal and professional
relationship with the composer is still to this day in need of critical elaboration.
It is known from their correspondence, however, that the tone of their letters
always remained cordial and respectful, although they never used the per tu form.
As part of his education and his early musical influences, the young Ábrányi
started his musical studies early. He had been writing compositions since childhood.9
After studying law, Ábrányi went on a European tour in 1843 in order
to deepen his musical knowledge – in that year he met Franz Liszt, with whom
he became good friends in later years.10 Ábrányi probably also took lessons
from Fryderyk Chopin, and presumably from Friedrich Kalkbrenner, and attended
lectures by Adam Mickiewicz at the Collège de France.11 In 1844, Ábrányi
returned to Pest for the première of Ferenc Erkel’s László Hunyadi, which took
place at the National Theatre in Pest, 27 January 1844. A year later he travelled
to London, and in 1846 to Vienna, where he took piano lessons from Joseph Fischof
(1804–1857).12 As can be observed from his letters, he spoke several languages,
such as Hungarian, German, French, and English. He presumably spoke Latin
too, since it was part of the general education. He completed his composition
studies in the 1850s in Pest-Buda under the guidance of Michael Brand, who –
perhaps influenced by Ábrányi, too – magyarized his name in 1859 to Mihály
Mosonyi.13 Ábrányi also took part in the revolution of 1848/49 as a volunteer, and
7 See Éva Fehér, Eredetiség és emlékezet: A “virtuóz triász” recepciója az 1849–1867 közötti irodalmi
és sajtónyilvánosságban [Authenticity and memory: The reception of the “virtuoso
triad” in the literary and press public between 1849 and 1867], in: Magyar Zene 58/3 (2020),
pp. 290–317.
8 S. Grosz, see note 4, p. 2.
9 See Zsolt Vizinger, Komponálás tetszetős modorban. id. Ábrányi Kornél zeneművei [Composing
in a Pleasing Manner. The Musical Output of Kornél Ábrányi Sr.]. Budapest 2022,
https://doi.org/10.23714/mzo.018, accessed Jul. 21, 2023.
10 See Kornél Ábrányi, Érintkezésem Miczkievics Ádámmal (1844–45) [My contact with Adam
Mickiewicz (1844–45)], in: Kornél Ábrányi, Életemből és emlékeimből: a történelem, irodalom
és művészet köréből [From my life and memories: from the fields of history, literature and
art]. Budapest 1897, p. 17; S. Grosz, see note 4, p. 2–3.
11 Ibidem, p. 4.
12 Ibidem.
13 Ibidem; Arisztid Valkó, Levéltári adatok Mosonyi Mihály életrajzához és emlékének
megörökítéséhez [Archival data for the biography and memory of Mihály Mosonyi], in:
Magyar Zenetörténeti Tanulmányok Mosonyi Mihály és Bartók Béla emlékére [Hungarian
89

as part of the national guard (nemzetőrség). After the surrender at Világos, he
became a private music teacher and taught piano, as well as making a living writing
for newspapers. From 1855, he became the music editor of one of the most
prestigious political newspapers, the Pesti Napló, and later of the Magyar Sajtó. In
1860, to gether with teacher and music historian István Bartalus (1821–1899), the
aforementioned Mihály Mosonyi, and the influential music publisher Gyula
Rózsavölgyi (1822–1861), son of the composer Márk Rózsavölgyi, he founded the
first Hungarian language music journal, the Zenészeti Lapok, of which Ábrányi
was editor-in-chief until 1876. He published in several Hungarian and German
language journals at around the same time.
After it was founded in 1875, Ábrányi secured a position at the Royal Hungarian
National Academy of Music teaching music theory, music aesthetics, and composition
(the latter together with composer Robert Volkmann (1815–1883)14), and
wrote textbooks on these subjects.15 He also worked as a translator.16 As a music
writer, Ábrányi published volumes, analyses, and informative articles on several
topics, focusing on the cause of national music and culture. He was also responsible
for the first national song festival and the launch of the National Song Festival
Association.17 As one can see, there were hardly any fields of music in which he was
not active at one time or another. This widespread activity as well as his role as a
gatekeeper unsurprisingly attracted negative criticism about his personality: the
press often targeted him, criticizing his tireless (sometimes tiring) effort.18 Despite
this, he had many admirers who cherished his memory even after his death. Kornél
Music History Studies in Memory of Mihály Mosonyi and Béla Bartók], ed. by Ferenc
Bónis. Budapest 1973, pp. 63–72.
14 See Balázs Mikusi, Robert Volkmann. Budapest 2019; A Liszt Ferenc Zeneművészeti Főiskola
100 éve: dokumentumok, tanulmányok, emlékezések. Budapest 1977.
15 Elméleti és gyakorlati öszhangtan (Harmonie-Lehre.) I. kötet (Budapest 1874); Zenészeti
aesthetika, elméleti s gyakorlati szempontból tárgyalva. Az orsz. m. kir. zeneakadémia
használatára. 1. rész (Budapest 1877); A magyar dal és zene sajátságai, nyelvi, zöngidomi s
műformai szempontból. Az orsz. m. zeneakadémia használatára. 1. rész (Budapest 1877);
Általános zenetörténet (Budapest 1886).
16 Tannhäuser (Pest 1871) (Nemzeti Színház Könyvtára 13.); A bolygó hollandi (Pest 1873);
Carmen (Budapest 1876) (Nemzeti Színház Könyvtára 108.); A korona gyémántjai (Pest 1880).
17 See Kornél Ábrányi, Az orsz. m. daláregyesület negyedszázados története 1867-től 1892-ig.
Budapest 1892; Rudolf Gusztin, Choral Movement and Nationalism in Nineteenth-Century
Hungary. https://doi.org/10.21857/y6zolbr8nm, accessed Jul. 21, 2023; Rudolf Gusztin,
“ Életem s csekély munkaerőm javát vette igénybe.” id. Ábrányi Kornél és a magyarországi dalármozgalom
kapcsolata” [“It Demanded On the Best of My Life and Petty Work Capacities”
– The Relationship Between Kornél Ábrányi Sr. and the Choral Movement in Hungary].
Budapest 2022, https://doi.org/10.23714/mzo.022, accessed Jul. 21, 2023.
18 See Emese Tóth, “General Bumbum.” A Borsszem Jankó Ábrányi-portréja, https://doi.
org/10.23714/mzo.024, accessed Jul. 21, 2023.
90

Ábrányi’s importance lies first and foremost in his versatility. This paper will examine
three of his wide-ranging activities, which highlight his role as a gatekeeper.
I will go on to detail his influence on local composers and, at the same time, on the
nineteenth-century Hungarian national compositional style, provide examples of
his critical-journalistic activities, and his role as a gatekeeper. But first I will present
the sources themselves.
THE ÁBRÁNYI CORRESPONDENCE
In light of Ábrányi’s significant role in nineteenth-century Hungarian musical life,
it may seem surprising that his correspondence has never been published in its entirety.19
However, the musicological research taking place within institutional
frameworks has so far only made it partially possible to embrace such a large-scale
research project. Kálmán Isoz was the first to sort the musical letters and publish
them in fragments when he cataloged the documents currently kept in the Manuscript
Collection of the National Széchényi Library. More than 300 letters in the
collection relate to Kornél Ábrányi.20 Additionally, the archives and libraries in
Budapest house hundreds of letters written by or to Kornél Ábrányi. Some of his
correspondence also resides in the Szabolcsi estate held in the Library of the Hungarian
Academy of Sciences and in the Liszt estate preserved in the Liszt Ferenc
Memorial Museum and Research Center. As for other figures of nineteenth- century
Hungarian musical life, Ábrányi’s letters to them were published only sporadically,
mainly in relation to research either on Liszt or the institutional history of the
Academy of Music, i.e. from the point of view of national cultural memory.
The interdisciplinary approach to the treatment of the Ábrányi correspondence
provides a more nuanced point of view for evaluating the musical life of the
period. Nineteenth-century research in recent years has increasingly highlighted
the fundamental influence of Kornél Ábrányi’s intellectual legacy on Hungarian
musical life.21 Ábrányi’s influence regarding his central position within a network
can easily show how widespread his personal influence was.22 I attempted to uncover
the network of connections comprising Hungarian musical life using the
19 The Hungarian Music History Department of the Institute of Music is currently preparing
for this endeavour.
20 Kálmán Isoz, Zenei kéziratok I. kötet: Zenei levelek. Budapest 1924.
21 The secondary literature during the twentieth century, such as that by Dezső Legánÿ, or
Bence Szabolcsi, also built on Ábrányi’s work.
22 See e.g.: David Rheams, Creating an Influencer-Relationship Model to Locate Actors in
Environmental Communications, in: Research Methods for the Digital Humanities, ed. by
Lewis Levenberg – Tai Neilson – David Rheams. Cham 2018, pp. 63–83.
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source group “Music Letters”, located under the reference number “Fond XII” of
the Manuscript Collection of the National Széchényi Library (NSZL).
A catalogue was made of this group of sources, based on Kálmán Isoz’s list.
Nearly 2500 letters from the Fond XII source group dating from the long nineteenth
century show that Kornél Ábrányi had an extensive network of contacts.
This group of sources alone suggests that he corresponded with at least 207 people.
With the help of digital tools, we have easily been able to make his personal network
visible. The three main figures who had the most connections were Franz
Liszt, Ferenc Erkel, and Kornél Ábrányi. Liszt evidently had an extraordinary network,
as the Liszt research and dozens of volumes of his letters have already shown.
Erkel’s importance also seems evident as he was an acknowledged composer and
teacher, and the leading figure at the two most important Hungarian music institutions:
the National Theatre in Pest, and later the Academy of Music. However,
anyone who intended to enter the Hungarian musical scene, or needed international
networking (especially if they needed to reach Franz Liszt, whose location
was almost impossible to keep up with) had to contact Kornél Ábrányi.
By examining the content of Ábrányi’s letters, this group of sources demonstrates
the far-reaching effect he had through personal contacts, and especially his
influence on the popularization of national ideas. People turned to him for advice
on musical matters and job opportunities, and in order to exploit his extensive
network. The following letters illustrate the multisided function of Ábrányi as a
gatekeeper.
ÁBRÁNYI’S EFFECT ON THE LOCAL REPERTOIRE
OF THE PERIOD
Among those who wrote to Ábrányi, we find diverse social classes and musical institutions.
Ábrányi corresponded with the theatre manager and patron Baron
Antal Augusz (1807–1878), one of Liszt’s dearest friends in Hungary, with the theatre
intendant and politician Baron Frigyes Podmaniczky (1824–1907), and the violinist
and composer Jenő Hubay (1858–1937). He contacted local and European
music publishers, such as Rózsavölgyi in Pest and Schuberth in Leipzig. His most
significant correspondence with Franz Liszt and Ferenc Erkel, as well as his correspondence
with the better-known Hungarian musicians and composers of the time
such as Robert Volkmann, Ede Reményi, and Count Géza Zichy, is preserved in
the collection.
Ábrányi’s letters shed light on his work as a teacher at the Academy of Music
in Budapest as well as on his influence on the thinking of musicians. In connection
with a student concert held at the Academy of Music Ábrányi wrote to Ferenc
Erkel in 1886:
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Dear Headmaster!
Forgive me if my present lines are a burden to you, and if they cause you a
few minutes of discomfort in your Hungarian heart. […] Today, having
received the invitation to the soirée held at the academy of the 24th of this
month, the programme of the evening must fill every Hungarian with a
sense of shame.
I was asked by Professor Koessler23 himself to write a new piece for
Hungarian mixed choir for the occasion; I did so without the slightest
expectation in the interest of the cause; but if I can only imagine that my
good-will in the cause will only be returned by being mocked in front of
the students of the academy: believe me, I would not have wished to stand
in the way of that flow, which puts all the languages and nationalities of
the world before Hungarian in the Hungarian Academy of Music! […]
I don’t know who put together the programme for the 24th, but I
know and I feel that he wants to be an oppressor not only of me (and I care
little about that) but of the Hungarian nationality as well! […]24
There was a deeper conflict behind Ábrányi’s opinion, expressed in a letter to Erkel,
the head of the Academy of Music: the letter reflects a long-standing debate in the
local cultural and educational environment about the “cause of national music”.
The letters of Ábrányi’s students to their master indirectly testify that Ábrányi, as
a teacher, always considered the cause of national music to be the most important
issue, and taught his students in that spirit.
23 Hans von Koessler (1853–1926) composer, pedagogue, and organist was a professor at the
Academy of Music in Budapest from 1882 to 1908. He taught there Béla Bartók, Ernő
Dohnányi, Zoltán Kodály, and Leó Weiner.
24 “Igen tisztelt Igazgató ur! Bocsássa meg, ha jelen soraimmal netán terhére vagyok s ha
azokkal netán egy pár percnyi kellemetlen érzést idézek fel magyar érzelmü szivében. […]
Ma megkapván a meghivót a f. hó 24-i akad. karelőadási és zenészeti estélyre: annak
műsor- sorozata kell hogy nemcsak csekély közvetlenül érintő személyemet, hanem minden
elfogulatlanul ítélő magyar embert is szégyenérzettel töltsön el. Engemet Koessler tanár
maga kért fel, hogy ez alkalomra irjak egy uj magyar vegyeskart; – az ügy érdekében
megtettem legkisebb pretensio nélkűl; de ha csak el is képzelhetem, hogy jóakaró
ügyszeretetemnek csak az a viszonzása lesz, hogy még az akadémiai tanitványok előtt is
degradáttassam: tessék elhinni hogy, még mint sereghajtó sem hivántam volna utjában
lenni annak az árámlatnak [sic], mely a világ minden nyelvét és nemzetiségét előbbre teszi
a magyarnál ép a magyar zeneakadémiában! […] Én nem tudom, ki állitotta össze a 24-i
műort, de azt tudom, és érzem, hogy az, nemcsak nekem (s ezzel keveset törődöm) de a
magyar nemzetiségnek is elnyomója szeretne lenni! […]” Kornél Ábrányi’s letter to Ferenc
Erkel: 21 May 1886. National Széchényi Library Manuscript Collection, Fond XII/7. This
and all of the following English translations by the author.
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Among these students at the Academy of Music, with whom he corresponded
about the importance of the national cause in both musical education and natio nal
culture, was the talented pianist Aladár Juhász (1855–1922), who was also recognized
and taught by Franz Liszt. Juhász was somewhat at odds with his former
master: in a letter to Ábrányi from 1878, he answered that he did not entirely share
Ábrányi’s views regarding the national cause. In his view “national” and “cosmopolitan”
are in stark contrast in politics, but not in music and art: “After all, genius
is the father of musical beauty with lasting value, which itself as a ‘gift’ is the exception
and not the rule.” Nevertheless, Juhász continued, those who attended
Ábrányi’s classes could never forget their patriotic duties.25
In contrast with Juhász’s moderate approach, several of Ábrányi’s students
shared his radical nationalist line. Lajos Főkövi’s (1851–1900) work was clearly influenced
by his former master’s thinking, which manifested itself in his letters,
especially in his concern over the “unmagyarization” of the Academy of Music.26
After his years spent at the Academy of Music, Lajos Főkövi settled in Szeged,27
where he worked as a music teacher and as a key figure in music history and music
education during the second half of the nineteenth century.28 Főkövi was an active
member of the local community as a musician; he also worked as a conductor and
choirmaster. Besides his musical activities, he regularly published music-related
articles in the local periodical, Szegedi Hiradó – shorter news items, or longer articles
analysing musical pieces.29 His music pedagogy studies were also published.
The role of nation-building for the highest musical educational institution in
Hungary became increasingly important during the 1880s, in the first decade after
its establishment in 1875, as the letters proved.30 This issue became a political question:
there were public debates in the Hungarian language press arguing over the
institution’s function. The influential political daily, Pesti Hirlap published a leading
article on 21 March 1881 with the following title describing its aim: Magyar
zeneakadémia (“Hungarian Academy of Music”).31 The article mainly reflected on
the programming of the student’s end-of-semester public examination concerts,
25 Aladár Juhász’s letter to Kornél Ábrányi: 15 June 1878. NSZL Manuscript Collection, Fond
XII/487.
26 Lajos Főkövi’s letter to Kornél Ábrányi: Szeged, 24 May 1883.; Ozor, 11 August 1898. NSZL
Manuscript Collection, Fond XII/317.
27 A southern regional centre in Hungary, today its third biggest city.
28 See Gusztáv Habermann, Személyi adattár a szegedi polgár-családok történetéhez –
Tanulmányok Csongrád megye történetéből 19. Szeged 1992, p. 85.
29 His journalistic activity, however, also needs to be examined. See József Szinnyey, Magyar
írók élete és munkái III. Fa-Gwóth. Budapest 1894, p. 662–663.
30 Fejezetek a Zeneakadémia történetéből, ed. by János Kárpáti. Budapest 1992.
31 Pesti Hirlap 3/79, 3 March 1881, p. 1.
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which only contained two Hungarian pieces in total – and even these did not represent
the best quality national works, according to the journalist. At the first
concert, “one of his [Mihály Mosonyi, the former Michael Brand] mediocre compositions
was performed mediocrely, the other pieces set and played were all
German, French, Italian, Czech and Polish orchestral works, some in Lisztian
transcriptions, but only one Hungarian piece.”32 The journalist pointed out that if
the main goal was to promote the same music as in Vienna, Prague or Berlin in the
institution, then it would have been easier to establish a fellowship and send the
students to these cities. Then, he concluded:
Just as the national direction has produced great results in poetry, scientific
literature and the fine arts, and our great poets, writers and painters owe
their success to it, so too must the national direction prevail in music. This
is what we wanted to warn the teachers and students of the Hungarian
Music Academy, which is maintained with state money.33
Many shared this view, along with Ábrányi, who at that time also worked as the
institution’s professor. He himself also promoted the nationalisation of the institution.
Two years after the Pesti Hirlap’s article, the question still seemed to be unresolved
– his student, Lajos Főkövi, reflected on this problem in his letter.34
Ábrányi’s opinion regarding the importance of Hungarian music and new
compositions, which was born in this spirit, was sought not only by his former
students, but also by a whole range of composers from the territory of the former
Hungarian Kingdom. Most of them remained unknown: Antal Fáy from Miskolc,
László Hajdú from Túrkeve, Károly Joó from Szentes, György Kapossy from Nak,
but he corresponded with composers from Sepsiszentgyörgy (today Sfântu
Gheorghe in Romania) or Losonc (today Lučenec in Slovakia), who all trusted
32 “A ma végig játszott műsorban egyetlen magyar zenedarab szerepelt, Mosonyi egyik
középszerű szerzeménye, középszerűn előadva, a többi kitűzött és eljátszott darab csupa
német, francia, olasz, cseh és lengyel zeneköltemény, némelyik Liszt-féle transzskripcióban,
de magyar zenemű csak egy. A jövő heti műsoron ismét csak egyetlen magyar művel
találkozunk Zimaytal, a többi ismét német, cseh, francia, olasz, angol vagy spanyol zene,
csak nem magyar.” Ibidem.
33 “Mint a költészetben és a tudományos irodalomban, mint a képzőművészeteknél is a
nemzeti irány szült csak valóban nagy eredményeket, nagy költőink, íróink és festőink
ennek köszönhetik sikereiket, szintúgy a zenében is a nemzeti iránynak kell túlsúlyra jutni.
Erre akartuk figyelmeztetni az állami pénzen fentartott magyar zeneakadémiát, tanárait és
tanulóit.” Ibidem, p. 2.
34 Lajos Főkövi’s letters to Kornél Ábrányi: Szeged, 24 May 1883; Ozor, 11 August 1898. NSZL
Manuscript Collection, Fond XII/317.
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Ábrányi’s judgment. These authors sent their compositions to Ábrányi personally
or to his periodical for review. Sometimes after several rounds of proofreading,
they asked him to connect them with a publisher, if the master found it worthwhile.
Henrik Emmerth wrote to Ábrányi from Székesfehérvár on 20 December
1885, remembering the time when they talked about the “development of Hungarian
music” in Ábrányi’s apartment.35 As a result, Emmerth wrote two Hungarian
rondos, which gained immediate success in Székesfehérvár. Before publishing the
works, he asked Ábrányi for his honest opinion. Although the reply has been lost,
Ábrányi presumably continued to encourage Emmerth, and encouraged him to
subscribe to Zenelap, a newly launched Hungarian-language music magazine,
which had published its first issue in January 1886.36 In his next letter, Emmerth
asked Ábrányi to treat his work as if it were his own, to change it as he liked.37
These compositions were completed in just this way: the rondos were published by
the Harmonia publishing house entitled 2 rondo magyar irályban zongorára (“2 rondos
in Hungarian style for piano”), presumably shortly after their correspondence.38
So, Ábrányi’s opinion was able to determine the voice of a significant number
of local composers and musicians, shaping the popular “national” style of the
time.39
ORGANIZING PRESS REPRESENTATION
Numerous musicians asked for Ábrányi’s patronage, as his recommendations could
open doors in the musical life of the cities of the Habsburg Empire, and the latter
Austro-Hungarian Monarchy. During the 1850s, a Viennese musician named
Heller approached him for a recommendation. The details of their acquaintance
are still unknown. We learn about this request from a letter written by Ábrányi to
the editor and journalist János Pompéri on 13 May 1856 in which he introduces the
young artist. Pompéri was then the editor of the Pesti Napló, and for a short time
35 Henrik Emmerth’s letter to Kornél Ábrányi: Székesfehérvár, 20 December 1885. NSZL
Manuscript Collection, Fond XII/258.
36 Henrik Emmerth’s letter to Kornél Ábrányi: Székesfehérvár, 26 December 1885. NSZL
Manuscript Collection, Fond XII/258. Zenészeti Lapok had by then ceased to exist. See:
Katalin Szerző, Zenészeti Lapok 1860–1874, in: RIPM (2005), https://ripm.org/pdf/Introductions/ZLAintroor.pdf,
accessed Jul. 21, 2023.
37 Henrik Emmerth’s letter to Kornél Ábrányi: Székesfehérvár, 26 December 1885. NSZL
Manuscript Collection, Fond XII/258.
38 Henrik Emmerth: 2 rondo magyar irályban zongorára (Budapest: Harmonia, s. a.).
39 Regarding “style hongrois”, see: Pál Richter et. al. (ed.), Style hongrois, http://stylehongrois.
zti.hu/index.php/en/, accessed Jul. 21, 2023.
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also served as its editor-in-chief.40 Pompéri had a musical interest as he was listed
among the members of the Conservatoire in Pest in 1857.41
Although the Pesti Napló was a political daily, it published articles on music,
theatre and culture because there were no dedicated arts journals during the
1850s.42 From 1855, the editor-in-chief of the periodical was the writer, publicist
and politician Baron Zsigmond Kemény (1814–1875). His outstanding education,
European-level knowledge and in-depth analytical skills made his paper a forum
for quality journalism.43 The cultural section of the Pesti Napló could be found in
the feuilleton, however, shorter and longer news items and reviews could be found
in other sections, too.44 Many members of the editorial board were illustrious:
Miksa Falk, Baron József Eötvös or Ágoston Trefort. Two outstanding music journalists
belonged to Pesti Napló’s circle of authors: Kornél Ábrányi and the Transylvanian
polyhistor Sámuel Brassai. During the 1850s, both these prominent music
writers lived and worked in Pest-Buda. Their critical oeuvre is the subject of ongoing
research that was begun only recently.45 As a journalist, Ábrányi himself published
numerous reviews and opinion articles in the Pesti Napló during his long
life. In the 1890s, he edited the music column, as an editorial letter to him attests.46
Returning to Heller’s inquiry of 1856, the tone of Ábrányi’s letter to Pompéri
suggests that the two were on friendly terms. The text of the short letter is as
follows:
40 József Szinnyey, Magyar írók élete és munkái X. Ótócska–Popea. Budapest 1905) pp. 1380–
1384.
41 Pesth-Ofner Zeitung 5/127, 5 June 1857, p. 2.
42 As it was mentioned before, the establishment of the first one, entitled Zenészeti Lapok in
1860 was also due to Ábrányi. The musicological researchers were already aware of the
Hungarian and German-language music journalism in Hungary that preceded the first
Hungarian-language music journal, the Zenészeti Lapok. Thanks to the extensive press research
in the 1980s, three studies were published in the Periodica Musica in the framework
of the RIPM, in the same decade. Dezső Legánÿ, Hungarian Periodicals 1800–1840, in: Periodica
Musica 2 (1984) p. 17; Katalin Szerző, The Most Important Hungarian Music Periodical
of the 19th Century: Zenészeti Lapok [Musical Papers] (1860–1876), in: Periodica Musica 4
(1986) pp. 1–5; Zoltan Roman, Italian Opera Premières and Revivals in the Hungarian Press,
1864–1894, in: Periodica musica 6 (1988) pp. 16–20.
43 See Géza Buzinkay, A magyar sajtó és újságírás története a kezdetektől a rendszerváltásig.
Budapest 2016, pp. 162–166.
44 Ibidem, p. 166.
45 See Beáta Simény, A magyar zenekritika-érem két oldala: id. Ábrányi Kornél és Brassai
Sámuel. Budapest 2022, https://doi.org/10.23714/mzo.014, accessed Jul. 21, 2023.
46 The letter of the editorial board of Pesti Napló’s to Kornél Ábrányi: Pest, 28 December 1895.
NSZL Manuscript Collection, Fond XII/866.
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The bearer of my lines, Mr. Heller, a young violinist and one of the most
talented musicians in the imperial capital, and a son of our country, asks
for the patronage of your esteemed journal, and because of our personal
friendship I feel myself entitled to ask you, as a worthy and influential
patron of the journal, to receive him with pleasure and to write about him
in your review, according to his artistic merit.47
Julius Heller was born on 25 July 1839 in Lehota (in today’s Slovakia), studied in
Vienna, then was a member of the Viennese Hofoper orchestra. In 1857, he moved
to Trieste to take over as director of the Società musicale di Trieste and later, also as
director of the local Schillerverein. At the end of the year in 1858, Heller and his
quartet (Alberto Castelli – second Violin, Carlo Coronini – Viola, Carlo Piacezzi
–Violoncello) started a concert series entitled “Concert Spirituel”, so Heller became
one of the leading figures of Triestine musical life. He also died in Trieste, in
1901.48
Let us first look at the issues raised in the Pesti Napló as a starting point. A
short review was published of one of Julius Heller’s performances on 18 May 1856,
while he was a pupil of the renowned Viennese violinist Joseph Hellmesberger. The
tone of the article is polite and, despite the critical remarks, the author of the article
believes that “Mr. Heller is nevertheless a remarkable talent and deserves the
attention of music lovers and the public.”49 It is worth comparing the article with
the review by music critic Alexander Czeke, who published under the initials
Cz.50 Czeke published his review in the Pesth-Ofner Lokalblatt und Landbote,
47 “Soraim átadója Heller úr fiatal hegedű művész ’s a’ birodalmi főváros egyik legtehetségesebb
zeneművésze, ’s hazánkfia, becses lapotok pártfogását kéri, személyes barátságunknál fogva
feljogosítva érzem magamat tégedet mint a’ lap érddemes [!] ’s hatásos ujdondászát felkérni,
fogadd őt szivesen ’s művészi érdeme szerint szólj rólla [!] művészeti criticádban.” Kornél
Ábrányi’s letter to János Pompéry: Pest, 13 May 1856. NSZL Manuscript Collection, Collection
of Letters [Levelestár].
48 See N.N., “Julius Heller”, in: Neue Musikalische Presse 8/19, 7 May 1899, 1.; Luisa Antoni,
“Die Aufnahme Schönbergs und seiner Schule in Triest”, translated by Tobias Schwembacher:
https://ul.qucosa.de/api/qucosa%3A32354/attachment/ATT-0/, accessed Oct. 10,
2023. I would like to thank Martin Eybl for the information on Julius Heller.
49 “Heller úr mindazonáltal jeles tehetség s a zenebarátok és a közönség figyelmét megérdemli”,
Pesti Napló 7/1864, 18 May 1856.
50 The monogram Cz. is presumed to belong to Alexander Czeke (or Czeke Sándor, 1821–1891),
who was born in Pécs, under which he published reports and reviews on music in German
in the Pesth-Ofner Lokalblatt und Landbote and the Pest-Ofner Zeitung. Czeke also published
musical writings on Hungarian music in Austria, but the collection and identification
of these articles is a task for future research. His work is only rarely mentioned in
encyclopaedias, but it would be worthwhile for his writings to be further researched. Con-
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a day before the Pesti Napló’s review – Heller gave a promising, but rather second
or third class performance in his concert at the National Theatre in Pest between
acts.
(Concert by violinist Julius Heller at the National Theatre on the 15th).
Virtuosos and singers can be divided into three classes. There are those
who have already outlived their usefulness, and when listening to them
one wishes one could hear them 10–20 years previously when they were
still enjoyable; then there are those who are at the highest level of art, and
who provide the listener with the actual enjoyment of art, but who are
seldom heard; finally there are those who will only be enjoyed in the
future. Mr. Julius Heller, a pupil of Helmesberger [sic], who already has a
strongly developed technique and feeling in performance, is in between
the second and third class described above, and with so much talent, once
he has acquired a fuller, more masculine tone and has made even more
extensive studies on the path he has taken, he will probably be among the
leading masters of his instrument. The audience did not lack honourable
applause.51
According to the playbill held at the National Theatre in Pest, Julius Heller performed
on 15 May 1856 between the one-act comedy Párizsi adós (“Debtor in
Paris”/“Nach Sonnenuntergang”)52 and the two-act ballet A festő álomképe (“The
Painter’s Dream”/“Des Malers Traumbild”), composed by Cesare Pugni.53 This
trary to the misleading remark in Szinnyey’s aforementioned lexicon, he did indeed publish
his own periodical under the title Aestetische Rundschau, which he published in Vienna from
1 October 1866.
51 “(Konzert des Violinisten Herrn Julius Heller am 15. d. im Nationaltheater). Virtuosen und
Sänger kann man füglich in drei Klassen eintheilen. In solche, welche sich schon überlebt
haben, bei deren Anhören man sich 10–20 Jahre zurückwünscht, wo sie noch genießbar
waren; dann in solche, welche oben auf der höchsten Höhe der Kunst stehen, und dem Zuhörer
den eigentlichen Kunstgenuß verschaffen, solche bekömmt man aber am seltensten
zu hören; endlich in solche, bei denen man erst in der Zukunft genießt. Herr Julius Heller,
ein Schüler Helmesbergers, welcher bereits eine stark ausgebildete Technik und Gefühl im
Vortrage entwickelt, steht in der Mitte der beschriebenen zweiten und dritten Klasse, und
wird er sich bald einen vollern, männlichern Ton angeeignet, und auf der mit so viel Talent
betretenen Bahn noch ausgedehntere Studien gemacht haben, dürfte er wohl zu den ersten
Meistern seines Instrumentes zählen. Das Publikum ließ es nicht an ehrenden Beifalls bezeugungen
fehlen.” Pesth-Ofner Lokalblatt und Landbote 7/113, 17 May 1856.
52 Translated from the French by Bertalan Szemere, the original piece could not be identified.
53 The original piece could not be identified.
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type of a mixed concert and theatre was an everyday practice in nineteenth- century
Pest-Buda. As the playbill indicates, Heller performed the Adagio and Rondeau
movements from Henry Vieuxtemps’ Violin Concerto No. 3 after the comedy. The
first act of the ballet was followed by his performance of Charles-Auguste de
Bériot’s Air varié, No 10. He performed these works with piano accompaniment,
but we can only speculate about the identity of the accompanist.54
A similar example to Heller’s can also be found in the Ábrányi correspondence.
The young pianist Margit Dunay, daughter of the school district’s director
Ferenc Dunay, gave a concert in the small hall of the Vigadó (Redout) on
20 January 1896, which was the subject of a positive review in the Pesti Napló.55 In
January 1896, Margit Dunay sent a letter from Vienna, thanking Ábrányi for his
support, in which he enclosed a photograph of her.56 In the light of this letter, it is
worth asking to what extent a review of Ábrányi’s work might have differed from
the critical opinions of his day.
József Ságh, a music critic, a former student of Ábrányi’s and later his son-inlaw,
wrote a critique in the Budapest newspaper under the pseudonym (Sgh) about
a “young artist blessed with many talents”, who, however, “did not have the huge
arms of an athlete. […] She performed some of her pieces with penetrating charm,
but in those that required great strength she did not show herself to be strong
enough and therefore often appeared cold and dry.”57 According to the Pesti
Hirlap, Margit Dunay put together a daring programme, which included Schumann’s
grandiose Carnaval. According to the paper’s reviewer, Dunay “gave proof
54 See: Playbills of the National Theater in Pest, 15 May 1856. NSZL Music and Theater
Collection.
55 Pesti Napló 47/20, 21 January 1896.
56 Margit Dunay’s letter to Kornél Ábrányi: Vienna, 24 January 1896. NSZL Manuscript Collection,
Fond XII/236. Photo cannot be found.
57 “Zongora hangversenyt rendezett ma egy sok tehetséggel megáldott fiatal s bájos megjelenésű
művésznő, Dunay Margit, a vigadó kistermében, aki már akkor, mikor még csak
apróbb házi hangversenyekben működött közre, feltűnt szépen kiegyenlített technikája
által, most nemcsak ilyennel rendelkezik, hanem finom és költőies hangulattal tudja interpretálni
előadandó darabjait. Az nagy kár, hogy nem bir az athléta hatalmas karjaival, mert
ha ilyenekkel rendelkeznék, hatalmas magyarázójává válnék a nagy mestereknek is, kik
gyakran óriási fizikai erőt kívánnak az előadótól. Dunay Margit játékát inkább a könnyed
illat járja át s azért pl. műsorának egyes darabjait átható bájjal adtaelő, de azokban, amelyek
nagy erőt igényelnek, nem mutatkozott elég erősnek s azért ezekben gyakran hideg és
száraznak tűnt fel. Műsorába felvette Bach, Beethoven, Chopin, Liszt, Schumann, Henselt
és Brahms műveit. A hangverseny iránt nagy volt az érdeklődés, a fiatal művésznő sok és
megérdemlett tapsokat kapott.” Budapest 20/20, 21 January 1896.
100

not only of her physical stamina but also of her good memory – but otherwise only
proved that her public appearance today was premature. […] [N]ow she is only a
pupil, fit for the classroom, but not for the concert hall.”58
And what did Ábrányi write about Margit Dunay? His criticisms were more
advice-like:
In particular, it shows that in Vienna she absorbed the artistic elixir in an
atmosphere that cultivated an overemphasis of technical brilliance. […]
I am of the opinion that the young concertmistress should now take a
separate artistic course in which the dominant force would not be technical
dazzle but the plasticity of the performance. Only in this way could a
talent as distinguished as hers scale the heights that seem to be her life’s
ambition. […] If she changes the focus of her studies, a sure and beautiful
future awaits her in the field of art.59
From the columns of the Pesti Napló and Dunay’s letter we can also identify
Ábrányi’s new pseudonym as a critic: (i. l.) = Ábrányi Kornél.60
58 “Dunay Margit kisasszony ma este szépszámú, előkelő közönség előtt számolt be azon
haladásról, amelyet az utóbbi években a zongorajátékban tett és a hallgatóság jóakarattal
fogadta a beszámolót, szívélyes tapsaival tanulmányainak folytatására buzdítva a
kisasszonyt. Dunay Margit az itteni zeneakadémián, Thomán Istvánnál tanult, majd
Bécsbe ment és ott Epsteinnál, majd Rosenthalnál folytatta tanulmányait, ma este azután
tizenkét számból álló monstre-műsorral (egyik szám Schumann Carnevalja volt!) nemcsak
fizikai kitartásának, hanem jó memóriájának is adta bizonyítékát — egyébként pedig csak
azt igazolta, hogy mai nyilvános szereplése idő előtti volt. A kisasszony még sokat tanulhat,
de még többet feledjen, ha igényt tart komolyabb megítélésre; most még csak növendék, aki
a tanterembe való, de nem a hangversenyterembe.” Pesti Hírlap 18/20, 21 January 1896.
59 “Kiváltképpen meglátszik rajta, hogy Bécsben olyan légkörben szívta magába a művészeti
elixirt, ahol a teknikai bravúroskodásnak a túltengetése az uralkodó planéta. […] Én abban
a véleményben vagyok, hogy a hangversenyző kisasszonynak most már még egy külön
művészeti kurzust kellene végeznie, amelyben nem a technikai szentkápráztatás, hanem az
átszűrődött előadás plasztikája lenne az uralkodó planéta. Egy oly disztingvált talentum,
mint az övé, csak így juthatna arra a magaslatra, amely, úgy látszik, élete ambíciója. […] Ha
megváltoztatja tanulmányai atmoszféráját, biztos és szép jövő vár reá a művészet mezején.”
Pesti Napló 47/20, 21 January 1896.
60 Using the last letters of one’s name like this was common practice.
101

JOB SEEKING AND PROFESSIONAL MEETINGS
Besides organizing good press for performers, Ábrányi was asked by musicians to
help them find medium- and long-term jobs, or to organize international professional
meetings. The baritone singer Louis Bignio had performed several times in
Pest-Buda during the 1850s as a student at the Conservatoire in Pest,61 but by the
1870s he was already living in Vienna. During this period, in April 1872, he made
several successful appearances on the stage of the National Theatre in Pest. Bignio
was a regular guest of the institution, performing Verdi’s Ernani (2 April), Un
ballo in maschera (9 and 11 April), Rossini’s Guillaume Tell (6 April), Meyerbeer’s
L’Africaine (13 April), Mozart’s Don Giovanni (16, 23 and 25 April), and Wagner’s
Tannhäuser (20 and 27 April). Baron Orczy, the director, asked him to come to Pest
again the next year, in April 1873. As Bignio was unable to do so, he wrote to
Ábrányi asking him to enquire on his behalf whether the invitation would still be
valid in the autumn of the same year.62 A few days after Ábrányi received Bignio’s
letter, on 4 October 1873, a short article on the same subject appeared in the Pesti
Napló, where Ábrányi regularly published:
(Lajos Bignió), a prominent member of the Vienna Song Theatre,63 is
reported to be returning as a guest at the National Theatre next spring.
Although he has received invitations from several foreign theatres,
Mr Bignio has given priority to the National Theatre, of which he has fond
memories.64
Although we do not know who wrote this article, its source is most probably
Ábrányi. However, Bignio’s planned appearance (for reasons not yet known) did
not take place.
61 See Márta Sz. Farkas (ed.), “Zenede-lexikon”, in: Lujza Tari et. al., A Nemzeti Zenede.
Budapest 2005, p. 328.
62 Louis Bignio’s letter to Kornél Ábrányi, Vienna, 29 September 1873, 13 October 1873. NSZL
Manuscript Collection, Fond XII/118.
63 He was a member of the Hofoper (Kärntnertortheater) from 1863. Franz Hadamowsky–
Alexander Witeschnik: Hundert Jahre Wiener Oper am Ring [Jubiläumsausstellung]. Wien
1969, p. 50.
64 “(Bignió Lajos) a bécsi dalmüszínház jeles tagja, mint értesülünk, jövő tavaszszal vendégszerepelni
fog a nemzeti színháznál. Több külföldi színháztól kapott ugyan meghívást, de
Bignio úr a nemzeti színháznak adott elsőbbséget, hová kedves emlékek kötik.” Pesti Napló
24/228, 4 October 1873, p. 2.
102

Foreign musicians too frequently asked Ábrányi for information about the music
scene in Hungary, and asked for his help or recommendation. There are several
examples of his central role as a gatekeeper: he corresponded with the French composer
Jules Massenet and the Slovak composer Jan Levoslav Bella.65 Many musicians
would have liked to make use of his support and network of contacts: for
example, in 1889, the singer Paolina Rossini invited the critic to her rooms before
her performance at the Royal Hungarian Opera House to ensure she received favourable
press.66
Ede Reményi’s former pupil, the violinist and pianist Nándor Plotényi (1844–
1933) also asked Ábrányi about a possible position in Pest. He settled in France in
the 1870s, but later wanted to move back to Hungary with his family. His respectful,
friendly letter to Ábrányi in 1884 bears witness to this.67 The letter gives us an
insight into the reception of Hungary by the people around him.
Dear Uncle Kornél68
The selfless friendship you have shown me so many times has prompted
me to write these few lines, asking for your confidential advice and support
for my future plans. In the forthcoming new year, I have decided to
settle down in my beloved country with my family – but since I wish to do
so only in such a way that I can have a job that is related to my profession,
and I should prefer to do so in the milieu to which I am most attracted.
I know that a violin department has been set up at the Academy [of Music],
and that Károly Huber is currently a violin teacher there – but could I
hope, in time, to win a position as a second violin teacher at the Academy,
a position which will no doubt be filled by the increase in the number of
students? In this regard, if you can give me some hope, please be so kind
as to let me know in a few lines, sent to the address indicated on the front
of my letter, that would it be worthwhile to address a few lines personally
to His Excellency Kálmán Tisza, who knows me well, or perhaps to my
65 Jules Massenet’s letter to Kornél Ábrányi, Paris, 11 October 1894. NSZL Manuscript Collection,
Fond XII/737.; Jan Levoslav Bella’s letter to Kornél Ábrányi, Kremnitz/Körmöcbánya
(Kremnica), 3 July 1873. NSZL Manuscript Collection, Fond XII/87.
66 Paola Rossini’s letter to Kornél Ábrányi, Budapest, 12 October 1889. NSZL Manuscript
Collection, Fond XII/942.
67 See the original version in Appendix 1. Nándor Plotényi’s letter to Kornél Ábrányi,
Beaumanoir, 12 November 1884. NSZL Manuscript Collection, Fond XII/876.
68 The Hungarian address “bácsi” (uncle; or “néni”, aunt) was and still is a common practice
in letters and in everyday use expressing a closer superiority, to whom the person who addresses
shows respect. It is a form of Mr., Mrs., or Ms. It also has a meaning of someone
elderly.
103

Plate 1: Jules Massenet’s letter to
Kornél Ábrányi, Paris, 11 October
1894. NSZL Manuscript Collection,
Fond XII/737.
comrade Bishop Károly Szász, with whom I have the best of friendship
almost due to old memories – and with the support of these two patrons
together with Uncle Kornél could perhaps hasten my appointment by
Culture Minister Trefort. In short, what I need is some reason – a starting
point for the immediate implementation of my family’s relocation – our
poor country is often so poorly or incompletely described to foreigners
that one cannot help but wonder at the many prejudiced opinions; I don’t
understand it from my wife’s side, because she is a woman of angelic goodness
and her feelings are exactly the same as mine, but it is her environment
that influences her parents with the idea that life in our country is
not safe, etc. etc. that makes it impossible to settle down in Hungary. One
of the main reasons (in connection with my purpose to move back) is that
I intend to educate my children in Hungary, of whom there are five, two
girls and three boys, and I need the material support as much as the
achievement of the goal I have just mentioned. I am also writing to Master
104

Liszt to ask for his help in carrying out this plan. Please give my regards to
uncle Ferenc Erkel and perhaps ask for his influence for me.
I remain an admirer of and indebted to Uncle Kornél for ever,
Nándor Plotényi
His plan to move back home took a different turn – Plotényi did not secure any job
at the Academy of Music. However, by the late 1880s, he was in Ungvár (today
Uzhhorod in Ukraine), where he gave several concerts.69 Kornél Ábrányi later reported
on his activities in an essay for the monthly magazine Magyar Szalon, summarising
Plotényi’s – perhaps as well as other immigrant Hungarian musicians’ –
situation as follows:
69 See e.g. Fővárosi Lapok [?]/219, 8 August 1888.
105

Having found a second home in France, Plotényi remained and lives there
as a happy family man. Although he has no compulsion to do so, he has
remained a supporter of Hungarian art and the cultivation of Hungarian
music, and the best foreign firms publish his works in that style. Those
who, under different conditions and constellations, could be strong supporters
and boosters of the Hungarian music world at home, so become
the fertilizers of foreign soil!70
In 1874, the American organist Edward Morris Bowman (1848–1913) approached
Ábrányi to link him with Franz Liszt, citing Ábrányi’s friendship with Liszt, which
was, as he wrote, universally treated as a fact. Their exchange of letters also highlights
the mutual professional benefits of his network: Ábrányi’s courtesy was reciprocated
by Bowman’s promise to report on American music news.71 Bowman
had been a student of William Mason in New York,72 and after completing his
studies, probably moved to Berlin to study with Franz Brendel. After finishing his
studies, he contacted Ábrányi: his first letter from Berlin was dated 16 April 1874.
Bowman wondered, since Ábrányi “maintain[ed] such friendly relations with our
Piano-King, Dr Franz Liszt,” whether he knew when Liszt intended to resume his
summer residence in Weimar.73 The original language of their correspondence was
English, where Bowman presented himself as follows:
[…] I have been studying the Piano with Franz Brendel, and Theory with
Carl Fried[rich] Weitzmann whose Harmony System I am just completing
for publication in the English language,74 and now before returning to
America, after this long absence, I am very desirous of making the acquaintance
of him whom we Americans apotheosize more than you Europeans
if that were possible. I should like to leave Berlin on Friday, May 1st,
70 “Plotényi második hazát találván Francziaországban, ott maradt, s ott él mint boldog
családapa. Bár nem szorul reá, de azért a művészetnek és a magyar zene ápolásának híve
maradt, s ez irányú műveinek a legelső külföldi firmák a kiadói. Akik a magyar zenevilágnak
más viszonyok és konstellácziók közt itthon erős támaszai és fellendítői lehetnének,
így lesznek gyakran idegen talajok termékenyítői!” Kornél Ábrányi, A magyar zenevilág,
Magyar Szalon 12/I (1889/1890), p. 504.
71 E. M. Bowman’s letters to Kornél Ábrányi, Berlin, 16 April, 6 May 1874; Rome, 1 June 1874.
NSZL Manuscript Collection, Fond XII/138.
72 See William Howard Benjamin, Biographies of Celebrated Organists of America. Albany
1908, p. 24.
73 E. M. Bowman’s letters to Kornél Ábrányi, Berlin, 16 April 1874. NSZL Manuscript Collection,
Fond XII/138.
74 Bowman’s-Weitzmann’s manual of music theory (New York: Wm. A. Pond & Co, 1879).
106

Plate 2: E. M. Bowman’s letter to Kornél Ábrányi, Berlin, 16 April 1874.
NSZL Manuscript Collection, Fond XII/138.
and if sure I meeting [sic] Dr L. I would make the entire journey to Pesth
expressly for that purpose, or if he was coming soon to Weimar, I could
and would wait here until the 15th or 20th of May in order to visit him
there.
By giving me a few words of advice you will confer a great honor upon
Yours very respectfully
E. M. Bowman
We do not have Ábrányi’s reply, but on 6 May 1874 Bowman wrote again to him
from Berlin thanking for the information he had received. Contrary to what
Bowman had read in the period’s press, Liszt was not in Pressburg but in Rome, as
Ábrányi informed him. Bowman asked him to send, if possible, Liszt’s location by
11 May to Berlin, the latest date on which he had to leave the city. Bowman confirmed
that he would return Ábrányi’s favour by sending news from the United
States, and also that he had received an issue of the Zenészeti Lapok.75
75 E. M. Bowman’s letter to Kornél Ábrányi: 6 May 1874. NSZL Manuscript Collection, Fond
XII/138.
107

The following shorter letter had been written on Bowman’s business card (“E. M.
Bowman | St. Louis | Missouri | U. S. America | Jefferson ave’ | & | Benton Str.”),
undated but certainly mailed in or after July 1874 from St. Louis, Missouri. Upon
his return, Bowman engaged in teaching and conducting until 1887, and also contributed
to journalism.76 Fulfilling his promise, he sent a concert program and
press reviews of his concert, and reported that “The operatic and concert season
here [St. Louis] promises well.”77 Bowman assured Ábrányi of his intention to send
further news and repeated his thanks to Liszt for his kind attention.78 However,
there is no evidence of any subsequent correspondence between them.
Bowman was not the only one to ask Ábrányi about Liszt: Ábrányi kept the
press and his entourage virtually constantly informed about Liszt’s activities. In his
letters to Ábrányi, the music publisher Julius Schuberth also requested information
about Liszt from him, i.e. from Ábrányi.79 He published some of his correspondence
with Liszt in the newspapers and later in his influential monograph, published
in 1900.80
CONCLUSION
Ábrányi’s letters and reports implicitly (sometimes explicitly) reveal a critical attitude
towards the Habsburg, then Austro-Hungarian Empire. He made specific
comments on the artistic presentation of a work, made suggestions on the choice
of programme and emphasized the merits of the performer. Ábrányi also corrected
many Hungarian composers’ compositions during the period, thereby helping to
shape the so-called national style. His letters, which were always intended to be
made public, and those preserved in the Manuscript Archives of the NSZL, reveal
the image of a person who, in addition to the cause of national music, supported
quality, the creation of new compositions, the emergence of new talents and international
contacts.
76 See W. H. Benjamin, see note 72, p. 24.
77 E. M. Bowman’s name card to Kornél Ábrányi, St. Louis, [?].[?].1874. NSZL Manuscript
Collection, Fond XII/138.
78 E. M. Bowman’s letter to Kornél Ábrányi, business card, no date. NSZL Manuscript Collection,
Fond XII/138.
79 Julius Schuberth’s letter to Kornél Ábrányi, Leipzig, 20 November 1873. NSZL Manuscript
Collection, Fond XII/980.
80 Kornél Ábrányi, A magyar zene a XIX. században. Budapest 1900, pp. 283 and 380–381.
108

Ábrányi’s correspondence reveals the influence he had on the perception, creation
and functioning of musical institutions abroad and in Hungary. His opinions
formed and shaped a fundamental part of the discourse on music in Hungary. The
impact and dissemination of his writings was further enhanced by his diverse network
of contacts. Anonymous and renowned musicians and composers from all
over Europe and across the Atlantic Ocean sought his advice and assistance in order
to benefit from his widespread network. A critical reading of his letters thus
provides insight not only into his personal life but also into the functioning of the
public musical scene. By studying these ego documents, we can gain not only a
deeper understanding of the music life in Hungary, but also an insight into the
functioning of the East-Central-European news flow and transmission, and the
methods of a powerful gatekeeper of the national movement.
109

APPENDIX 1
Letter from Nándor Plotényi to Kornél Ábrányi.
Nándor Plotényi’s letter to Kornél Ábrányi: Beaumanoir,
12 November 1884. NSZL Manuscript Collection, Fond XII/876.
Kedves Kornél bácsi
Erántami oly sokszor tanusitott önzetlen barátsága felbátorit e nehány sorok
írására, melyekben bizalmas tanácsát és támogatását ujjabb terveimet illetőleg
kérem. A közeledö uj évben elhatározott szándékom családastul szeretett hazámban
letelepedni – de miután azt csak ugy érvényesithetném kivánságom szerint hogy
egy uttal szakmámba vágó foglalkozásom is lehetne, fölleg abban a milieuben
melyhez leginkább szivem vonz. Tudom hogy a hegedü tanszék felállitatott az
Academiában, igy azt is hogy Huber Károly fungal jelenleg mint hegedü tanár – de
nem lehetne reményem, idövel egy másod hegedü tanárnak is állomást az Academiában
megnyerni, a milyen állomas kétség kivül a növendékek megszaporodásával
kitöltendő lesz. Ez iránt ha némi reményt adhat legyen oly szives nehány sorba a
levelem homlokzatán olvasható czimén velem tudatni azt is hogy nem volna e jó
személyesen Tisza Kálmán ö nagy méltóságához nehány sorban fordulni a ki jól
ismer, vagy talán Szász Károly püspök komámhoz a kihez szinte régi emlékek
következtében a legjobb baráti viszony összefüz – és ezen két protectorummal
Kornél bácsival együtt talán a Cultus Ministernél Trefortnál kinevezésemet némileg
sürgethetni lehetne. Egyszóval a mire szükségem van az valami ok – mely kiindulási
pontul szolgálna hogy családom áttelepitését okvetlen effectuálhassam szegény
hazánk a külföldiek elött sokszor oly hiányoson vagy rosszul van ismertetve
leirásokban hogy nem lehet csudálkozni a sok elöitélettel biró véleményt; nem nöm
részéről értem mert az egy angyali jóságu nö és annak érzelmei teljesen az enyéimmel
egyeznek, de környezete az mely befolyásolja nöm szüleit avval, hogy országunkban
az élet biztonsága stb. stb. lehetetlené teszi a letelepedést. Egyike a föbb
okoknak az is hogy gyermekeimet magyar nevelésbe részesitem, melyek számra
nézve 5. Két leány és három fiu, és szükségem annyira az anyagi támaszra mint
azon czél elérése melyet felemlitém elébb. Liszt mesterhez is irok nehány sort az ö
segitségét is kikérve ebbeli tervem kiviteléhez. Erkel Ferenc bácsit legyen szives
részemről üdvözelni és talán az ö befolyását is számomra kikérve
maradok Kornél bácsinak örökké hállával tartozó tisztelője
és lekötelezettje
Plotényi Nándor
110

APPENDIX 2
Letters from Kornél Ábrányi
Letter writer City Year Language Amount Fond XII/
Erkel, Ferenc Pest, Ischl 1866–1886 Hungarian 14 7
Major J., Gyula [?] [?] Hungarian 5 8
Makray, László [?] [?] Hungarian 4 9
Pichler, Bódog [?] [?] Hungarian 1 10
Schönherr, Antal [?] [?] Hungarian 17 11
Schönherr, Antalné [?] [?] Hungarian 54 12
Schönherr, Gyula [?] [?] Hungarian 2 13
APPENDIX 3
Letters to Kornél Ábrányi
Letter writer City Year Language Amount Fond XII/
Abaffy, József [?] [?] Hungarian 1 2
Ábrányi, Aurélné [?] 1897 Hungarian 1 4
Ábrányi, Kornél jun. [Budapest] [1881] Hungarian 1 14
Ábrányiné Vay, Róza [?] 1897 Hungarian 1 17
Adelburg, Ágost Ischl 1867 German 1 20
Aggházy, Károly Paris 1879 Hungarian 1 22
Almásy, Miklós Kalocsa 1884 Hungarian 1 26
Andréjka, József Újpest 1898 Hungarian 1 28
Apt, Kamil [Budapest] 1880 Hungarian 1 31
Augusz, Antal Szekszárd, Buda 1869–1877 Hungarian 13 39
Baka-Baitz, Irma Budapest 1897 Hungarian 1 44
Bauholczer, Júlia Budapest 1883 Hungarian 1 49
Bartalus, István Budapest 1874–1886 Hungarian 9 52
Bartay, Ede [Pest] [1870] Hungarian 2 59
Báthory, Geyza Deskovát 1895 Hungarian 1 64
Bauer, Antalné [Budapest] [1897] Hungarian 1 67
Beck, Vilmos [Budapest] 1895 Hungarian 1 71
Bella, Jan Levoslav Körmöcbánya 1873 German 1 87
[Kremnica,
today Slovakia]
111

Letter writer City Year Language Amount Fond XII/
Bellaágh, Aladár Körmöcbánya 1897 Hungarian 3 89
[Kremnica,
today Slovakia]
Bernáth, Gáspár [?] [?] Hungarian 1 99
Bertha, Sándor ifj. Leipzig, Paris 1863, 1864 Hungarian 2 100
Bezerédj, Viktor Budapest 1902 Hungarian 1 114
Bignio, Louis von Vienna 1873, 1882 Hungarian 3 118
Blaha, Lujza Budapest 1902 Hungarian 1 123
(Splényiné)
Blaha, Lujza Budapest, [?] 1894, [?] Hungarian 3 124
(Splényiné)
Bogár, Lajos Nyíregyháza 1897–1898 Hungarian 3 128
Bogisich, Mihály Budapest 1893 Hungarian 2 129
Bowman, E[dward] Berlin, Rome, 1874 English 4 138
M[aurice]
St. Louis
Bösendorfer, Johann [Vienna] 1876 German 1 140
Breitkopf & Härtel Leipzig 1892 German 5 147
Busse, Alwine [?], Budapest 1877–1878 German 3 157
Bülow, Hans von München 1866–1868 German 2 162
Dolinay, Gyula Budapest 1876 Hungarian 1 217
Doppler, Franz Vienna 1867–1871 German 2 222
Dunay, Margit Vienna 1896 Hungarian 1 236
Dunca Schian, Budapest 1894 French 1 237
Constance
Dunkl, Pest, Budapest 1870–1879 German 5 238
Johann Nepomuk
Dunkl, Norbert Budapest 1892 Hungarian 2 240
Egerváry, Gyula; Budapest 1897 Hungarian 1 245
Egerváry, Jenő
Emmerth, Henrik Székesfehérvár 1885 Hungarian 2 258
Endrődi, Sándor Budapest 1902 Hungarian 1 259
Engeszer, Mátyás Pest 1872 Hungarian 1 261
Esterházy, Kálmán gr. Kolozsvár 1880 Hungarian 1 285
[Cluj-Napoca,
today Romania]
Fáy, Antal Miskolc 1869 Hungarian 1 294
Feigler, Janka [?] [?] Hungarian 1 302
Fekete, József Budapest 1902 Hungarian 1 303
Fellegi, Viktor Buda 1873 Hungarian 2 305
Főkövi, Lajos Szeged, Ozor 1883, 1898 Hungarian 2 317
112

Letter writer City Year Language Amount Fond XII/
Fraknói, Vilmos Budapest 1883 Hungarian 1 321
Franklin Társulat Budapest 1896 Hungarian 1 325
Futtakyné Pewny, Irén Budapest 1897 Hungarian 1 331
Gaal Ferenc Szabadka 1882, 1887, Hungarian 4 332
[Subotica, 1894
today: Serbia]
Gille, Carl Weimar 1884 German 1 343
Gobbi, Henrik Nádasdladány, 1879, [1897] Hungarian 2 347
Budapest
Gönczi, Mór Budapest 1902 Hungarian 1 363
Grinzweil, Norbert Budapest 1879 German 1 367
Gyalokay, Antal Nagyvárad 1870 Hungarian 2 375
[Oradea, today:
Romania]
Gyalókay, Lajos sen. Nagyvárad 1897 Hungarian 1 376
[Oradea, today:
Romania]
Gyene, Gusztáv Budapest 1885 Hungarian 2 377
Hackl N., Lajos Budapest 1902 Hungarian 1 381
Hajdu, László Túrkeve 1870, 1873, Hungarian 3 383
1874
Halász, Imre Budapest 1885 Hungarian 1 388
Harmonia Magyar Budapest 1881 Hungarian 1 393
Zeneművészek Rt.
Harrach, József Budapest 1894 Hungarian 1 395
Haynald, Lajos Budapest, [?], 1876 Hungarian 2 408
Kalocsa
Heins, Alvin Vienna 1897 German 1 412
Heugel Z. Cie Paris 1894 French 2 419
Hilgermann, Laura Budapest 1890, 1893 German 3 421
Horváth, Ákos Budapest 1898 Hungarian 1 430
Hoffer, Karl Pécs 1892 German 1 432
Hubay, Jenő Budapest 1896 Hungarian 1 434
Hubay Jenő Budapest 1902 Hungarian 1 435
Huber, Karl [?] [?] German 1 446
Iszlai, Márton Torda 1882 Hungarian 1 460
Jámbor, Jenő Budapest 1897 Hungarian 1 465
Jansen, Julia Yelysavethrad 1876 German 1 468
[Kropyvnytskyi,
today: Ukraine]
113

Letter writer City Year Language Amount Fond XII/
Jeszenszki [?] Budapest 1897 Hungarian 1 472
Joó, Károly Szentes 1873 Hungarian 1 481
Joseffy, Rafael Tarrytown- 1895, 1896 German 2 482
New York,
Visegrád
Juhász, Aladár [Kada?] [1878] Hungarian 1 487
Kabdebó, Jánosné Arad 1897 Hungarian 1 490
Kahnt, Leipzig 1875, 1878 German 2 495
Christian Friedrich
Kapossy, György Nak 1884 Hungarian 3 504
Kelemen, Lajosné Sepsiszentgyörgy 1895, 1897, Hungarian 3 511
[Sfântu 1898
Gheorghe,
today: Romania]
Kerekes, Sámuel Görgénysóakna 1884 Hungarian 1 517
[Jabenița, today:
Romania]
Kereskedelemügyi Budapest 1897 Hungarian 1 518
Minisztérium
[Ministry of Trade]
Király, József Pál Sopron 1872, 1873 Hungarian 3 526
Királyi, Pál Budapest 1874 Hungarian 1 528
Kirch, János Derecske 1863 Hungarian 1 530
Klökner, Ede Budapest 1898 Hungarian 1 538
Koessler, Hans von [?], Budapest [1889?] German 2 542
[János]
Kolozsvári dalkör Kolozsvár [?] Hungarian 1 544
[Liedertafel of [Cluj-Napoca,
Kolozsvár, today: today Romania]
Cluj-Napoca]
Komócsy, József [?], Budapest [?], 1884 Hungarian 2 551
Korbay, Ferenc Pöstyén 1878, 1884 Hungarian 2 552
[Piešťany, today:
Slovakia], Pozsony
[Bratislava,
today: Slovakia]
Kovárcz, Emil Losonc [Lučenec, 1874 Hungarian 1 560
today: Slovakia]
114

Letter writer City Year Language Amount Fond XII/
Körmöcbányai Körmöcbánya 1897 Hungarian 3 562
Magyar Egyesület [Kremnica,
[Hungarian Society today Slovakia]
in Körmöcbánya /
Kremnica,
today Slovakia]
Körösi, Sándor Fiume [today: 1894 Hungarian 1 563
Rijeka, Croatia]
Kövér, Gábor Arad 1866 Hungarian 1 564
Kun Margit, Budapest 1897 Hungarian 1 578
Kelen Ida,
Hollósy Kornélia
Küry, Klára Budapest 1897 Hungarian 1 581
La Mara Vienna, Leipzig, 1887, 1888, German 5 585
(Lipsius, Marie) Ischl 1893, 1895
Lányi, Ernő [?] [?] Hungarian 1 592
Lányi, Ernő [?] [?] Hungarian 1 593
Lekly, Gyula Kassa [Košice, 1886, 1893, Hungarian 8 604
today: Slovakia] 1894
Liszt, Ferenc Rome 1869 French 1 620
Liszt, Ferenc Weimar, Rome, 1873, French, 19 621
Bayreuth, 1875–1878, German
[Budapest], [?], 1881–1882, [?]
Kaba, Pragerhof
Lonovics, József jun. Dombegyházi 1862 Hungarian [?] 705
puszta
Lónyay, Menyhért Pest 1855 Hungarian 1 706
Lotz, Kornélia [Budapest] 1897 Hungarian 1 709
Lung, György [?] [?] Hungarian 1 712
Lung, György [?] [?] Hungarian 1 713
Magyar Zeneszerzők [?] [?] Hungarian 1 718
Társasága [Society
of the Hungarian
Composers]
Major J., Gyula [?] [?] Hungarian 1 722
Maleczky, Vilmosné Budapest, [?] [1890], [?] Hungarian 2 728
Mányik, Ernesztin [Budapest] [?] Hungarian 2 729
Massenet, Jules Paris 1894 French 1 737
115

Letter writer City Year Language Amount Fond XII/
Mezey, Lajos Nagyvárad 1875 Hungarian 1 758
[Oradea, today:
Romania]
Mihalovich, Ödön [Budapest] [?] Hungarian 1 759
Mihalovich, Ödön [Budapest] [?] Hungarian 4 760
Miskolczi városi Miskolc [?] Hungarian [?] [?]
zeneiskola [Municipal
Music School in Miskolc]
Musiol, Robert Röhrsdorf, 1877, 1897 German 2 785
Fraustadt
Nagy, Mór Kolozsvár 1895 Hungarian 1 792
[Cluj-Napoca,
today Romania]
Nikolics, Sándor Budapest 1888 Hungarian 1 810
Nohl, Ludwig Heidelberg 1875 German 1 814
Nyíregyházi Dalegylet Nyíregyháza 1897, 1898 Hungarian 3 822
[Liedertafel of
Nyíregyháza]
O’Donellné [Budapest] [?] Hungarian 1 824
Országos Magyar Budapest 1898 Hungarian [?] [?]
daláregyesület
Pálffy Daun Lipót, Budapest, [?] 1883, [?] Hungarian 3 843
gr. jun.
Pálffy Daun Lipótné, Visegrád, [?] 1890, [?] Hungarian 2 845
gr. Ifj.
Pauliné Markovics, [?] 1867 Hungarian 1 852
Ilka
Editorial board Budapest 1895 Hungarian 1 866
of Pesti Napló
Péterfi, Dénes Kolozsvár 1897 Hungarian 1 867
[Cluj-Napoca,
today Romania]
Petrovay, János Pozsony 1898 Hungarian 2 870
[Bratislava,
today: Slovakia]
Plotényi, Nándor Beaumanoir 1884 Hungarian 1 876
Podhorszky, Gizella Terény 1877 Hungarian 1 877
Podmaniczky, Pest 1869 Hungarian 1 878
Frigyes báró
Popper, Dávid Budapest 1897 German 1 883
116

Letter writer City Year Language Amount Fond XII/
Rákosi, Jenő Budapest 1893, 1894 Hungarian 3 901
Reberics, Imre Pécs 1879, 1892 Hungarian 2 904
Reményi, Ede Huszt, Vienna, 1862, 1863, Hungarian 16 909
Rakovicz, 1868, 1869,
Pozsony 1871–1873,
[Bratislava, 1876, 1877,
today: 1891, [?]
Slovakia],
Temesvár
[Timișoara, today:
Romania], Csombord
[Ciumbrud, today:
Romania], Karlsbad,
Budapest, London,
Paris, [?]
Reményi, Ede; Sulinacsatorna 1867, 1870 Hungarian 2 921
Reményi, Károly [Sulina, today:
Romania], Lőcse
[Levoča, today:
Slovakia]
Remmert, Mártha Kolozsvár 1877, [1895] German 5 923
[Cluj-Napoca,
today Romania],
Nagyvárad
[Oradea, today:
Romania], [?],
Sátoraljaújhely
Rendano, A. Vienna, Milan 1883 French 3 925
Ridley-Kohn, Adolf Vienna 1870 German 1 174
Rossini, Paolina Budapest 1889 German 1 942
Rosti, Pál Pálhalma 1873 Hungarian 1 943
Rothfeld, Lajos Glasgow, 1865, 1873 German, 2 944
Weimar
Hungarian
Rózsavölgyi & Co. Budapest 1892 Hungarian [?]
Ságh József Trencsénteplitz 1898 Hungarian 1 953
[Trenčianske
Teplice, today:
Slovakia]
Salamon, Ferenc Torda 1897 Hungarian 1 957
117

Letter writer City Year Language Amount Fond XII/
Sayn-Wittgenstein, Rome 1881 German [?] 963
Caroline
Schmidt, Péter Pécs 1867, Hungarian 5 974
1870–1873
Schönherr, Antalné [?] [?] Hungarian 1 975
Schönherr, Gyula [?] [?] Hungarian 1 979
Schubert, Julius Leipzig 1873, 1874 German 2 980
Schunda, Wenzel Josef Budapest 1894 German 1
Serly, Lajos Vienna, Losonc 1892, 1896 Hungarian 2 988
[Lučenec, today:
Slovakia]
Servais, Franz Pest [?] French 1 990
Simli, Mariska Budapest 1897 Hungarian 1 992
Simonffy, Kálmán Kassa, Budapest 1866, 1874, Hungarian 5 993
1878, 1881,
1885
Sipos, Antal Kővágóörs 1898 Hungarian 1 1001
Steingräber Verlag Leipzig 1894 German 1 1017
Stradal, August Budapest 1896, [1897] German 2 1020
Swistumof, Madeleine Moscow 1876, 1877, French 4 1030
1881
Szabados, Béla [Budapest] 1896 Hungarian 1 1033
Szabados, János Szeged 1876 Hungarian 2 1036
Szabados, Károly Budapest 1887 Hungarian 1 1037
Szapáry, Gyula Budapest 1873 Hungarian 1 1041
(Count)
Szász, Domokos Kolozsvár 1880 Hungarian 2 1044
[Cluj-Napoca,
today: Romania]
Széchenyi, Imre Pest 1870 Hungarian 1 1047
(Count)
Szegedi Dalárda Szeged 1876 Hungarian 1 1048
[Liedertafel of Szeged]
Székács, Gyula Constantinople 1896 Hungarian 2 1050
Székács, József Nagyvárad 1865 Hungarian 1 1051
[Oradea, today:
Romania]
Székely, István Mátyfalva 1887 Hungarian 1 1055
Szénfy, Gusztáv Miskolc 1861, 1863, Hungarian 4 1063
1865
118

Letter writer City Year Language Amount Fond XII/
Szentirmay, Elemér [?] [?] Hungarian 1 1067
Szentpály, Jenő Arad 1898 Hungarian 1 1069
Szilágyi, Arabella [Budapest] 1897 Hungarian 2 1077
Sztojanovits, Jenő Budapest 1890 Hungarian 1 1089
Takáts, Mihály Leányfalu 1897 Hungarian 1 1100
Tausig, Serafine Vienna 1867 German 1 1106
Thék Endre Budapest 1898 Hungarian 1 1115
Ponori Thewrewk, Budapest 1887 Hungarian 1 1119
Emil
Vadnay, Károly Budapest 1880, 1881, Hungarian 10 1137
[1887], 1897
Vay, Dánielné Budapest 1897 Hungarian 1 1155
Vécsey, Sándor Fiume [today: 1895 Hungarian 1 1159
Rijeka, Croatia]
Végh János, jun. Altaussee 1886 Hungarian 1 1162
Vértesi, Arnold [?] [?] Hungarian 1 1166
Vészi, József Budapest [1896] Hungarian 1 1168
Vidor, Pál [?] [?] Hungarian 1 1169
Volkmann, Robert Buda 1870, 1876 German 3 1175
Vrabély, Serafine Pozsony 1863 German 1 1184
[Bratislava,
today: Slovakia]
Wachtel, Aurél Budapest 1876 Hungarian 1 1186
Weitz, Mátyás Vienna 1872 Hungarian 1 1203
Weizzmann, Hugo Berlin 1882 German 2 1204
Wekerle, László Máramarossziget 1895 Hungarian 1 1205
[Sighetu Marmației,
today: Romania]
Willmers, Rudolf Pest 1860 German 1 1212
Winkler, Lajos Nagyvárad 1876, 1877 Hungarian 2 1217
[Oradea, today:
Romania]
Wohl, Janka Pest 1870 Hungarian 1 1222
Wojokowski [?] Moscow 1876 German 1 1223
Zboray, Aladár Budapest 1897 Hungarian 1 1227
Zempléni, Árpádné [?] [?] Hungarian 1 1230
Zichy, Géza gróf Kaba [1880] Hungarian 1 1236
Zichy, Géza gróf Tetétlen, 1880, 1884, Hungarian 15 1237
Budapest 1885, 1889,
1891, 1896
119

Letter writer City Year Language Amount Fond XII/
Zimay, László Pest, Budapest, 1871, 1879, Hungarian 8 1250
Kecskemét [1881], 1886,
1889, 1897
Zsasskovszky, Endre Karlsruhe 1873 Hungarian 1 1253
120

Vjera Katalinić (Zagreb)
F R A N JO K S . K U H AČ
IN THE CULTURE OF LETTERS
Between Micro- and Macrohistory1
Letters (if private correspondence and not open letters intended for publication –
typical of the epistolary eighteenth-century essay) offer individual reports on various
matters and often reveal their writers’ opinions and attitudes. Previous generations
of researchers (musicologists included) often neglected these sources,
considering them second-rate due to their perceived lack of objectivity. However,
more recent investigators have been attracted by sources that shed more light on
“small histories”, or microhistories, i.e. the (musical) cultures of everyday life, and
thereby improve the understanding of macrohistory, and so help to realize its ambition
to encompass the totality of (musical/cultural) events in a certain period.
For this reason, ego documents also figure as an important anthropological source
that takes seriously individuals’ views of the various developments that comprise
the wider historical event.
ON FRANJO KSAVER KUHAČ AND HIS LETTERS –
SOME INTRODUCTORY REMARKS
This is certainly true of the letters written by Franjo Ks. Kuhač (1834–1911), the first
Croatian musicologist, ethnomusicologist, and music historian. He was born in
the Croatian city Osijek (in German: Essek), which was part of the Kingdom of
Slavonia within the Habsburg Monarchy. At that time the city was multicultural
with a strong German contingent. Kuhač’s mother tongue was German and his
real name was Franz Xaver Koch.2 In 1854, he finished two years of study at the
1 This article is the result of investigations made as part of the Croatian Science Foundation
projects “Networking through Music: Changes of Paradigms in the ‘Long 19th Century’ –
from Luka Sorkočević to Franjo Ks. Kuhač”, IP-06-2016-4476 and “Institutionalization of
Modern Bourgeois Musical Culture in the 19th Century in Civil Croatia and Military
Frontier” IP-2020-02-4277.
2 His father, Joseph Koch (1806–1878), a tinsmith, came to Osijek from Bóly in 1832 with his
wife, Teresa Piller, and received the citizenship in 1839, when his son Franz Xaver (later
known as Franjo Ksaver Kuhač) was five years old. Some of his parents’ relatives stayed in
Bóly, and some moved to other places in the Hungarian part of the Monarchy. For more on
Kuhač/Koch, his family and their origins, see Ladislav Šaban, Napomene o Kuhačevoj biografiji
[Notes on Kuhač’s biography], in: Franjo Ksaver Kuhač: Korespondencija I/1. Zagreb
1989, pp. 6–10.
121

Royal Teachers’ College in parallel with his music education at the Conservatory
of the Pest-Buda Music Society with Carl Thern (composition).3 After some additional
training, he was active in his native town as a music teacher and Kapellmeister
in various societies. Kuhač met some members of the Croatian national
revival in 1863 in Zagreb and, stirred by the national idea,4 he started to learn the
Croatian language. He also collected and promoted “national” music (folk-songs
and compositions in “Slavic tune”), thus opposing non-Slavic music, especially the
prevailing German influence on contemporary Zagrebian music, which could be
heard in the music of the whole region. In 1871, he moved to Zagreb and changed
his family name to “Kuhač”. There, he worked as a music teacher at the Musikverein
school5 (1872–1876), and later as a freelance musicologist.6 He arranged some 2500
songs (collected from Burgenland to Bulgaria) and equipped them with instrumental
introductions and piano accompaniments. His main achievement was the
publication of the four-volumes Južno-slovjenske narodne popievke (South-Slavic
Folk Songs), which contains 1600 songs.7 In addition, he wrote many studies and
3 Dubravka Franković, Školovanje Franje Ksavera Kuhača u Budimpešti, 1852–1854 [The
Schooling of Franjo Ksaver Kuhač in Budapest, 1852–1854], in: Arti musices 25/1–2 (1994)
pp. 249–259. For more on Thern see: Maria Eckhardt, Thern, Károly, in: The New Grove
Dictionary of Music and Musicians, ed. by Stanley Sadie. London 2 2001, vol. 25, p. 387.
4 In 1861, after the abolition of the neo-absolutist regime of Alexander Bach, Croatia (as well
as other crown lands) experienced the beginning of the second wave of the national movement
with the foundation of many choral societies and the establishment of (music) institutions,
such as the National Theatre in Zagreb.
5 After the abolishment of the neo-absolutism in 1861, the Musikverein-School became a state
institution with a modest subsidy. In 1866, its Board (Directorate) submitted a request to
the Parliament to raise the subsidies and allow the upgrading of the School to a Conservatory.
However, due to organizational, political and professional disagreements, the resolution
of that situation was prolonged. Parliament was soon dissolved, so that no decision
could be reached. Thanks to the systematic rejection of the central administration in
Vienna, the Musikverein school received permission to be named a conservatory only in
1916, although all the professional requirements were already met by the 1890s. Cf. Ladislav
Šaban, 150 godina Hrvatskog glazbenog zavoda [150 Years of the Croatian Music Institute].
Zagreb 1982, pp. 89–94.
6 His biography, bibliography (with lists of his texts in Croatian and German), as well as
publications on his work can be found in: Franjo Ksaver Kuhač (1834–1911), https://kuhac.
znameniti.hr/, accessed Jul. 21, 2023. Cf. also an outdated article in OBL, http://www.biographien.ac.at/oebl?frames=yes,
accessed Jul. 21, 2023, and a more recent and updated one by
Stanislav Tuksar in OEML, https://musiklexikon.ac.at/0xc1aa5576_0x0001d66d, accessed
Jul. 21, 2023.
7 He could not find an editor for this huge task. Therefore, he invested his own money (as
well as his wife’s dowry) and used the subscription method, in order to publish the songs in
four volumes (four booklets each) between 1877 and 1881. The fifth book was edited in 1941
by Vinko Žganec and Vladoje Dukat at the Yugoslav (today Croatian) Academy of Sciences
122

treatises on music history, musicology, and ethnomusicology, various reviews and
some simple compositions. However, his second major output was a respectable
collection of letters preserved as the Briefcopierbücher in 13 volumes, written down
as drafts, copies or summaries of letters, sent to various contemporaries, to 1078
addresses in all.8 After his opus magnum – the Južno-slovjenske narodne popievke –,
his letters should be considered as his most important output.9 The letters are
dated from 25 June 1860 until 1 June 1911, only seventeen days before his death.
In 52 years he sent on some 3300 letters in total, i.e. approximately 64 letters per
year. However, the correspondence is not complete because some letters were torn
out10 and some lines censored with black pen by Kuhač himself, or by his closest
family.
The reason for keeping such meticulous copies of each letter was clearly stated
several times among these documents: first, he wanted to keep evidence of what he
had said to whom and what he had sent in the letter. He sometimes even added
notes in order not to forget what to write the next time. After a while it became a
sort of a diary that could serve as evidence of his research trips and through which
additional information was saved for his articles which were to be published later.
Finally, approaching his late years, Kuhač intended to keep correspondence that
might serve as a source for his biography “or, rather, my martyrdom, during the
publication of my collection” (VIII, 73). He wanted to keep his ideas and statements
forever, because “[m]aybe after my death someone will publish my correspondence,
which is in a close relationship with our recent history of the arts” (IX,
269).11
and Arts. The fifth and the sixth book were prepared for publication, but are still in manuscript.
The first book of Južno-slovjenske narodne popievke is available online, https://digitalnezbirke.kgz.hr/?pr=i&id=18340,
accessed Jun. 21, 2023, while other volumes can be found
on different online portals (such as google books and some others). Further, almost all of
Kuhač’s works (writings, folk-song collections) are available at the platform Academia.edu:
https://hgz.academia.edu/FranjoKsaverKuhac, accessed Jun. 21, 2023.
8 Some other minor documents are also copied or drafted there, such as receipts, as well as
his notes on future topics to be reported to his correspondents.
9 Ladislav Šaban, Predgovor [Foreword], in: Franjo Ksaver Kuhač: Korespondencija I/1. Zagreb
1989, p. 1.
10 The first letter in the first book is marked as no. 113, and the previous 112 letters were torn
out by Kuhač himself or by his family. Presumably, they contain details of mostly private
affairs, which were supposed not to be interesting or important to the readers outside the
family, or even too private to be shared with them.
11 The letter is originally in Croatian. Cited after Sara Ries, Franjo Ks. Kuhač u mreži svojih
korespondenata [Franjo Ks. Kuhač in the Network of his Correspondents], PhD diss. Zagreb
2022, p. 17.
123

In order to organize his working hours and to be more efficient, Kuhač tried to
devote time to his correspondence once a week (according to the dates of his letters,
which are mostly grouped quite regularly), but that was not always possible
and depended upon the mail he received or other circumstances. The practice of
keeping evidence of one’s own correspondence is not at all unusual, but is more
typical of politicians or intellectuals in higher positions. A similar, but not so extensive
example from musical circles in the Croatian lands is that of the physician
and composer Julije/Giulio Bajamonti (1744–1800) in Dalmatia, whose private
correspondence12 with well-known people (such as Alberto Fortis, scientist Ruđer
Bošković/Ruggiero Boskovich and others13), friends and family, has been the object
of recent investigation.14
Kuhač’s letters are kept in the Croatian State Archives within his papers and
in microfilm and digitized format in the Department for History of Croatian
Music of the Croatian Academy of Sciences and Arts. At first, the letters were investigated
as material for his biography and in connection with other important
personalities or composers and musicians. Many researchers have been put off consulting
them more thoroughly by the mostly German language, written in Gothic
script in an unclear hand. A rough typed transcription, which was made in the
1950s by the ethnomusicologist Vinko Žganec,15 inspired Ladislav Šaban to start a
publication project of the complete Kuhač letters in the form of transcriptions
(from Gothic script)16 and translations (from German into Croatian) with
12 According to the custom of his time, Bajamonti also wrote publicly published letters – epistles
– as essays on certain topics, dealing with history, art, medicine, etc.
13 Bošković’s correspondence has been documented in various publications and has been published
as a complete edition (Edizione nazionale Boskovich, http://www.brera.inaf.it/
edizionenazionaleboscovich/).
14 Ivana Tomić Ferić investigated Bajamonti’s literary legacy within the project “Musical
Sources in Dalmatia in the Context of Central-European and Mediterranean Musical
Culture from the 18th to the 20th Centuries” (GIDAL) and wrote several articles on that
topic, such as: Ivana Tomić Ferić, Susreti i dijalozi hrvatskih prosvjetitelja: Julije Bajamonti
(1744. – 1800.) i Miho Sorkočević (1739. – 1796.) [Encounters and dialogues of Croatian
Enlightenment figures Julije Bajamonti (1744–1800) and Miho Sorkočević (1739–1796)], in:
Glazba, migracije i europska kultura. Svečani zbornik za Vjeru Katalinić / Music, Migration
and European Culture. Essays in Honour of Vjera Katalinić, ed. by Ivano Cavallini, Jolanta
Guzy-Pasiak and Harry White. Zagreb 2020, pp. 65–86.
15 The typed manuscript, bound in volumes, has been kept in the Croatian Academy of
Sciences and Arts, and only came into the possession of its Department for History of
Croatian Music in 1981.
16 These transcriptions include all Kuhač’s errors and specific orthography, following the
Grimm Brothers’ practice, explained by the similarity with the Croatian/Slavic one.
124

commentary. He did not live to see the publication of the first two volumes of the
first book of Kuhač’s correspondence,17 and until the project was restarted some
forty years later, this valuable source was almost forgotten – the rare mentions of it
relied only on previously published material.
In addition to the publication of the second volume and the preparation of the
third in the context of the project on “Musical Networking in the Long 19th Century”
financed by the Croatian Science Foundation, Kuhač’s letters became the
research subject of a series of papers and a doctoral thesis.18 In her dissertation,
elaborated as a part of the project, Sara Ries lists Kuhač’s addressees and discusses
several of the dominant topics in these letters as well as those she detected to be the
most important in his oeuvre. Kuhač gives information on his research trips and
collecting of folk/national music;19 the presentation of his work and the idea of the
national in music of the (southern) Slavs;20 his requests for patronage, supports
and references (i.e. requests that would bring him directly or indirectly some financial
benefits); deals with publishers and bookstores; acquisition and resale of musical
instruments; the organization of musical life in Osijek and Zagreb; cultural
policy; and Kuhač’s own social and economic circumstances as well as his relations
to his contemporaries.
As will be seen in the following passages from Kuhač’s letters, in the second
book (1864–1869) he applied some principles of the orthography presented by Jakob
Grimm,21 but he still used Gothic script explaining that in some letters:
According to the new Grimm-Raskian orthography, not only are all nouns
written in lower case, lengthening omitted etc., but in words where two
17 Franjo Ksaver Kuhač, Korespondencija I/1, prepared by Ladislav Šaban. Zagreb 1989; Franjo
Ksaver Kuhač, Korespondencija I/2, prepared by Ladislav Šaban. Zagreb 1992.
18 The project results can be inspected on its web page, https://www.info.hazu.hr/projekti/
umrezavanje-glazbom-promjena-paradigmi-u-dugom-19-stoljecu-od-luke-sorkocevica-dofranje-ks-kuhaca/,
accessed Jul. 21, 2023. Sara Ries, a PhD student on the project, obtained
her PhD thesis at the University of Zagreb, Philosophical Faculty – Music Academy, in
February 2022. Her thesis Franjo Ks. Kuhač u mreži svojih korespondenata, see note 11, is
available as OA manuscript, https://dr.nsk.hr/islandora/object/ffzg:5870, accessed Jul. 21,
2023.
19 This term needs explanation, because Kuhač speaks of national music as that which is characterized
by national elements, not only of folk music, i.e. of unknown origins, but also of
art music that has been constructed on the characteristics of folk elements (themes, motives,
scales, and also to some extent simple harmonic characteristics, etc.).
20 This presentation includes his compositional output, his (ethno)musicological and historical
writings as well as his collection of folk songs.
21 Jacob Grimm, Vorwort, in: Jacob Grimm – Wilhelm Grimm, Deutsches Wörterbuch, vol. 1.
Leipzig 1854.
125

vowels stand side by side and each of which should be pronounced
separately, two dots are also assigned to one or the other.22
For him, it was a reasonable choice: “I tend to write according to Grimm’s orthography,
as this is close to our Croatian in that the substantives also appear there
with a lower-case initial.”23
In some letters, Kuhač explains this way of writing and in others he just adds
a note as a post scriptum about the use of “Grimm’s orthography”. On the other
hand, he never uses these orthographic principles when writing to some members
of the nobility (such as Count Julius Janković),24 probably in order not to present
himself as too radical, or, to the contrary, as ignorant of the official German language
as a part of the general culture. However, in his concepts, Kuhač did not pay
much attention to precise orthography, thus, in the publication of his letters, all his
errors have been kept as they were, which has been done in the citations here as
well.
ON COLLECTING FOLK SONGS
The letters are a rather precise source for dating Kuhač’s compositions (sometimes
published without the publication year), as well as the origins of and initial research
for his various essays that would be published later. The letters also reveal
his methods of collecting national music: he both collected them himself during
fieldwork trips, asking people to sing or perform for him, and asked friends and
colleagues to collect the material and send him the notated melody with text. He
explained his work on their arrangements and comments, as well as the progress of
their acquisition. For example, from 10 January 1867 until 20 May 1869 his collec-
22 “Nach der neuen Grimm Raschkeïschen ortografie werden nicht nur alle hauptwörter klein
geschrieben, dehnungen weggelassen etc., sondern man pflegt in solchen wörtern, wo zwei
selbstlaute nebeneinander stehen, und wovon jeder für sich ausgesprochen werden soll, ober
dem einen oder dem anderen zwei punkte zu machen.” Franjo Ksaver Kuhač, Korespondencija
II/1, prepared by Vjera Katalinić and Sara Ries. Zagreb 2022, letter II, 41, 12 May 1865,
pp. 96–98. English translations of Kuhač’s letters by the author unless stated otherwise.
German linguists and writers, brothers Jakob and Wilhelm Grimm investigated the
language and edited a German dictionary. Their follower was a Danish linguist Rasmus
Christian Rask.
23 “Ich pflege nach Grimmischer ortografie zu schreiben, da diese unserer kroatischen insoweit
nahe ist, da auch dort die substantiva mit kleinem anfangsbuchstaben erscheinen.”
Franjo Ksaver Kuhač, Korespondencija II/2, (to be published in 2024), letter II, 100,
5 April 1867.
24 Franjo Ksaver Kuhač, Korespondencija II/1. Zagreb 2022, letters II, pp. 63, 72 and 80.
126

tion of songs he had finished preparing grew from 300 double sheets to 850.25 At
first, he intended to publish them when he reached 1000 songs, but on his trip to
Dalmatia in the summer of 1869, he returned to his hometown with more than
600 new songs. He thus faced the new challenges of arranging them all. Already
in an early phase of his work in 1866, he described the process of preparing these
melodies for publication:
My song collection is progressing quite a bit. A few days ago I was at a
pilgrimage site not far from Osijek, where I copied beggars’ songs. I took
the opportunity to have lunch on the heath outside the village, since the
guslari were not tolerated by the high local police in the village. However,
I not only collect the songs according to their original shape, but since last
year have also begun to work on them by providing them with piano accompaniment,
text, notes, etc. I currently have 253 manuscripts of such
prepared (ready-to-print) songs, for all of which I have drawn lines and
written myself. I intend to publish the collection only when I have 1000 of
them, e.g. for the reason that other nations will gain respect for our folk
poetry.26
In arranging and harmonizing the collected folk tunes, Kuhač was no exception
and followed the usual method applied in various European collections. Yet he
tried to understand the specificities of these tunes and use them accordingly in this
process. He explained his procedure later in various articles27 and stressed that his
25 These songs have been published in his collection exactly in that manner: with full texts and
with piano accompaniment and grouped according to the themes: love songs, rousing
songs, war songs, harvest songs etc.
26 “Die sammlung meiner lieder schreitet ziemlich vorwärts. Vor einigen tagen war ich auf
einem wallfartsort unweit Essek wo ich lieder der bettler abschrieb. Bei der gelegenheit hielt
ich mittagstafel auf der heide ausser dem dorfe, da die guslari von der hohen ortspolizei im
dorfe nicht geduldet wurden. Allein ich thu nicht nur die lieder sammeln dank ihr städt.
fakten, sondern habe seit vorigem jare begonnen dieselben auch auszuarbeiten, indem ich
sie mit klavirbegleitung, text, notizen etc. versehe. Gegenwärtig besitze ich 253 notenbogen
solcher ausgearbeiteten (druckfertigen) lieder, die ich alle selbst linnirt und geschrieben
habe. Ich gedenke die sammlung bis erst dann 1000 nummern habe heraus[zu]geben, u. z.
aus dem grunde damit die anderen nationen respekt vor unserer volkspoesie bekommen.”
Kuhač’s letter (II, 73) to the composer Ferdo Livadić-Wiesner on 13 September 1866 (cf.
Franjo Ksaver Kuhač, Korespondencija II/1. Zagreb 2022, p. 171).
27 For example, in Vriednost pučkih popievaka [The value of the folk-songs], in: Vienac 24/11–15
(1892) pp. 170–172, 186–188, 201–203, 215–218 and 232–233; 24/17–19, pp. 264–265, 281–286
and 297–300. For more on the characteristics of Kuhač’s ethnomusicological output see:
Grozdana Marošević, Kuhačeva etnomuzikološka zadužbina [Kuhač’s ethnomusicological
127

task was to show the world the treasure and richness of the south-Slavic musical
folk output, but also to “dress” it in a cultivated manner. To do this, he followed
the ideas of Ljudevit Gaj (1809–1872), the “father of the national movement”, who
spread the idea that national art music should be created according to the folk
tunes, but technically adapted according to the rules of classical composition.28
His correspondence reveals that Kuhač never visited Bulgaria and Macedonia
in person to collect songs and other national outputs (as he did in Dalmatia, Serbia,
Bosnia, etc.), because such a trip would have been too dangerous. Thus, he writes
to Joseph Schlesinger in Belgrad: “[…] I would prefer not to have to bother you
with the Bulgarian songs, but I have to ask you to give me a hand, since a trip to
Bulgaria involves danger, and I don’t know where else to go to knock for Bulgarian
songs.”29 He therefore compiled their tunes by drawing on existing collections and
with the assistance of his correspondents.30
legacy], in: Narodna umjetnost 26 (1989) pp. 107–154, and on his collection of folk songs, see
the chapter “Južno-slovjenske narodne popievke u kontekstu Kuhačeva znanstvenog sustava”,
pp. 108–111.
28 Gaj established his principles on the national movement based on Herder’s idea that language
is the essence of the nation, yet he applied it not only to the Croatian language, but
to all south-Slavic nations and languages (thus calling it the Illyrian language). Accordingly,
he demanded the use of national elements in music: “Thus we have laid the foundations for
Croatian music and given it direction: let it draw from the people, and when it creates
something new, let it also be in the spirit of the people – but not as unadorned and naive as
the products of the simple people are, but rather sophisticated, refined, according to the
rules of art and aesthetics; thus, we shall achieve what other nations lack: true national
music.” Cf. Franjo Ksaver Kuhač, Glasbeno nastojanje Gajevih Ilira. Povjestna crtica [Musical
endeavours of Gaj’s Illyrians. A historical sketch]. Zagreb 1885; English translation
quoted after Josip Andreis, Music in Croatia. Zagreb 2 1982, p. 124. For more on music ideology
and the Illyrian movement see: Stanislav Tuksar, On Some Concepts of Panslavism and
Illyrism in South Slavic Peoples, and the Idea of National Music in Croatia during the 19th Century,
in: Nation and/or Homeland. Identity in 19th-Century Music and Literature between
Central and Mediterranean Europe, ed. by Ivano Cavallini. Milano 2012, pp. 79–102. More
on Ljudevit Gaj and music see: Vjera Katalinić, Ljudevit Gaj i glazba [Ljudevit Gaj and
music], in: Radovi Zavoda za znanstveni rad HAZU u Varaždinu 49 (2023) (in print).
29 “[…] ich würde wünschen Sie mit den bulgarischen liedern ebenfalls nicht belästigen zu
müssen, aber da muss ich Sie bitten mir noch ein wenig an die hand zu gehen, da eine reise
nach Bulgarien sogar mit gefar verbunden ist, und ich nicht weiss wo ich sonst um bulgarische
lieder anklopfen könnte.” Franjo Ksaver Kuhač, Korespondencija II/2, (to be published
in 2024), letter II, 148, 22 April 1868.
30 S. Ries, see note 18, p. 55–56.
128

KUHAČ AS MUSICOLOGIST AND ADVOCATE
OF NATIONAL MUSIC
In his treatise Eigenthümlichkeiten der magyarischen Volksmusik completed in 1884
(but never published), Kuhač explained the term “musicology” and described that
the task of the “comparative musicology” was to investigate the characteristics of
musical styles of a nation and that according to its principles “national music”
should be composed.31 Besides, he wrote many studies and essays dealing with
various aspects of music history (composers, performers, musical instruments,
music theory, music aesthetics etc.).32 In his letters he often proclaims that he analysed
several thousand folk-songs from many nations, not only from southern
Slavs, thus compiling comparative material for his studies.33 In general, he often
presented his ideas on the national in music and his attempts to detect some patterns
of national style immanent to (south-)Slavic music and apply them to his own
compositions.
My compositions, which I have sent to the Zagreb exhibition, produced a
sensation; they have brought a certain fire into the people, because since
the time I performed with Slavic pieces, people from all corners have been
trying to compose in a Slavic way. I often have to laugh at the way they
write in the Slavic manner; but that is not to blame the people, because not
everyone has the patience to go among the people and copy hundreds of
their songs and other ways of playing in order to study the spirit of Slavism
from them.34
31 The manuscript is in his papers in the Croatian State Archives.
32 For more on Kuhač as a historiographer and musicologist see: Zdravko Blažeković, Franjo
Ksaver Kuhač: utemeljitelj hrvatske glazbene historiografije [F. Ks. Kuhač as the founder of
the Croatian music historiography], in: Sanja Majer-Bobetko, Zdravko Blažeković, Gorana
Doliner, Hrvatska glazbena historiografija u 19. stoljeću [Croatian Music Historiography in
the 19th Century]. Zagreb 2009, pp. 34–38.
33 In a letter to Ljuboje Dlustuš in 1902 he writes that he analysed some 30.000 various folk
pieces (songs, dances) in order to establish the characteristics of Croatian folk/national
music that differs from other nations (see S. Ries, see note 18, p. 48).
34 “Meine compositionen, welche ich zur Agramer ausstellung sendete, haben furore gemacht;
dieselben haben ein gewisses feuer in die leute gebracht, denn seit der zeit als ich mit slavischen
stücken auftrat, versuchen leute aus allen winkeln in slavischen sinne zu componiren.
Oft muss ich über die art und weise wie sie slavisch schreiben, lachen; es ist aber den leuten
nicht zu verdenken, den jeder hat nicht so viel geduld sich unters volk zu begeben und
hunderte ihrer lieder und sonstige spielweisen abzuschreiben, um daraus den geist des slavismus
zu studieren.” Franjo Ksaver Kuhač, Korespondencija II/1. Zagreb 2022, letter II, 31,
22 February 1865, to Carl Thern.
129

Insisting on Slavism (later on south-Slavism) in music was his way of opposing the
vast corpus of German music that he criticized, except when composers such as
Haydn and Beethoven used national tunes. Kuhač thought that Croatian composers
would be enthusiastic about his collection of folk-songs because they could
inspire them and so “they will pounce on them like bees on honey”. Further, he
communicated to his friends the interest in his collection that came from abroad:
“A lot of German musicians have already asked me to send them some samples of
south-Slavic songs. The operetta composer Offenbach for example, made me an
offer through Mr. Carl Hiller for 100 fl for 20–30 of the best songs, etc.”35
His enthusiasm in preparations to come to Zagreb and teach at the Musikverein
School in the Croatian language and produce textbooks in Croatian was
already apparent in 1867: Kuhač translated Katechismus der Musik by Johann
Christian Lobe into Croatian, thus creating new music terminology that had not
previously existed. He explains how he gathered a small group of teachers and intellectuals
as consultants in order to construct new expressions that should be used
in his teaching of music theory. His advocacy on the national issue gained him the
position as a piano teacher in 1872. However, he was not content with the internationally
oriented Directorate and some of his colleagues. After a period of high
tensions, Kuhač accused them of being enemies of the national music (in league
with some like-minded politicians) and became a freelancer again.
TEACHING FEMALE MUSICIANS –
AMATEURS AND PROFESSIONALS
In his early professional years in Osijek, Kuhač worked as a private teacher (a general
teacher, in accordance with his training), but soon started to take pupils in
music, i.e. in piano, signing many letters as “Piano teacher”. Among his pupils
were both girls and boys, who were mostly members of well-situated families, at a
time when musical training formed part of a general bourgeois education. In his
letters to his pupils, Kuhač gave them various kinds of advice. Some of them were
living outside Osijek, many in the nearby city of Đakovo/Diakovar,36 the seat of
the bishopric, where Josip Juraj Strossmayer was enthroned as Bishop (but acted as
35 “Es haben mich schon eine menge deutsche, und das musikalische persönlichkeiten, ersucht,
ihnen einige proben der südslavischen lieder zukommen zu lassen. Der operetten
componist Offenbach z. b. liess mir durch Hr. Carl Hiller für 20–30 der besten lieder 100 fl
anbieten, u. s. w.” Franjo Ksaver Kuhač, Korespondencija II/1. Zagreb 2022, letter II, 19,
8 September 1864, to Leopold Hartmann in Zagreb.
36 The distance between these two cities is less than 50km and Kuhač gladly used the opportunity
to travel by Strossmayer’s coach when playing there.
130

a man of letters and an important politician as well). Kuhač and his pupils were
occasional guests in the Bishop’s salon, where they performed various pieces and
Kuhač promoted his compositional output there, which was financially supported
by the Bishop himself. He gave advice to his pupils on what to perform on such
occasions and sometimes sent them musical material, either his own compositions,
or pieces by other Slavic or classical authors. He also pointed to what he thought
were the differences in musical repertoire and style of playing that were respectively
suited to amateur and professional female pianists:
We are very pleased that His Excellency received the concert with such
approval and are therefore ready (if it would please the Đakovo audience)
to introduce two persons: Jos. Laudenbach the younger and Fr. X. Koch
[Kuhač himself], at the forthcoming concert on 19 March. We have both
already agreed on our choice of pieces; Josef will play a Russian fantasy for
piano solo, then a Slavic march for two pianos with me. I would have liked
to have given my part to one of the ladies in Đakovo, but Josef does not
want that at all, as he thinks delicate hands would not play the second
piano with enough strength. Regarding Miss Marie, she should – in my
opinion – not play a piece for four hands this time, but rather something
alone. But what? – that is the general question! – We have a lot of German
pieces, but doesn’t it seem we should stick to the Slavic ones after all? – We
have therefore already written to Prague and hope to receive something
Slavic from there in a few days. Should the young lady want to play something
German, I would like to recommend the enclosed Chopin Salon
Waltz; it is fiery, not very demanding, and contains more Polish than
Swabian; it has been played several times in private concerts in Vienna,
Paris etc. […] However, if she really wants something Slavic, then all I
know – just in case that the musical material from Prague is not be quite
adequate – is my two Slavic transcriptions, which she recently had in her
hands. These two pieces are undemanding, since they contain no bravura
passages, but they are charming and delicate. And a young lady should be
undemanding and delicate everywhere, even at the piano, unless the
woman in question is an artist! then, I think, she may drive around at the
keyboard in a very manly manner.37
37 “Wir sind sehr erfreut, dass Seine Excellenz das concert so beifällig aufgenommen hat, und
sind daher bereit (wenn es dem Diakovarer publikum angenehm ist) die beiden persönlichkeiten
Jos. Laudenbach der jüngere und Fr. X. Koch, bei dem bevorstehenden concerte am
19 März zur verfügung zu stellen. Wir beide sind zu diesen – was die wahl unserer piecen
betrifft – auch schon übereingekommen; Josef spielt eine russische fantasie für Piano solo,
dann einen slawischen marsch für 2 Klaviere, mit mir. Ich hätte meinen part gerne einem
131

For his female students in Osijek, Kuhač sent messages, which usually have a
patronizing and pedagogic tone (for example in II, 8 to his pupil Marianne
Miholčanin), and to those who get married he suggests they continue their piano
practice, because music, “the queen of arts”, has many qualities, which can help
them in many ways:
The art will not only give you some pleasant hours; not only will it relieve
you of the need to seek company in which you would disperse, but it will
purify your feelings; she will bring you to the purest worldview; she will
open the asylum of a happy still life in your heart and accompany you in
joy and sorrow as a loving companion. And surely you will make your
husband forget the ailments of the day when you sit down at your piano
and tell him with unspoken words – through sounds, how much you love
him and how happy you feel at his side.38
der fräulein in Diakovar übertragen, aber Josef will es durchaus nicht, da er meint dass
zarte hände das zweite Klavir mit nicht genug kraft spielen würden. Das fräulein Marie
betreffend, sollte sie – meiner meinung nach – diesmal nicht 4händig, sondern allein spielen.
Aber was? – das ist die generalfrage! – Deutsche stücke hätten wir eine masse, aber wie
es scheint so sollten wir doch beim slavischen bleiben? – Wir haben deshalb auch bereits
nach Prag geschrieben, und hoffen in einigen tagen, etwas slavisches von dort zu erhalten.
Sollte das fräulein etwas deutsches spielen wollen so möchte ich ihr den beiliegenden
Chopinische Salonwalzer sehr anempfehlen; derselbe ist feurig, nicht gar schwer, und enthält
mehr polnisches als schwäbisches; er wurde mehrmals schon in Wien, Paris etc in privat
concerten gespielt. […] Will sie jedoch durchaus was slavisches, so weiss ich ihr – im
falle die Prager musikalien nicht ganz entsprechen – nichts anders, als meinen zwei slavischen
transcriptionen, die sie unlängst in händen hatte. Diese beiden piecen sind zwar anspruchlos,
da sie keinerlei Bravour stellen enthalten, aber sie sind niedlich und zart. Und
eine junge dame soll überall, auch beim Klavir anspruchlos und zart sein, ausser die betreffende
wäre eine künstlerin! dann mag sie wegen meiner ganz nach männer art am Klavire
herumfahren.” Franjo Ksaver Kuhač, Korespondencija II/1. Zagreb 2022, letter II, 4,
14 February 1864, sent to Joseph Laudenbach Sr., the father of two of Kuhač’s pupils: Joseph
Jr. and his sister Marie.
38 “Die kunst wird Ihnen nicht nur manche angenehme stunden verschaffen; sie wird Sie
nicht nur von der notwendigkeit bewaren, gesellschaft aufsuchen zu müssen, in der Sie Sich
zerstreuen können: sondern sie wird Ihre gefühle läutern; sie wird Sie zur reinsten weltanschauung
bringen; sie wird das asyil eines glücklichen stilllebens in Ihrem herzen aufschlagen,
und Sie in freud und leid als liebevolle gefährtin begleiten. Und gewiss werden Sie
Ihrem gemal die beschwerden des tages vergessen machen, wenn Sie Sich [zu] Ihrem klavire
setzen, und ihm durch unausgesprochene worte – durch töne sagen, wie sehr Sie Ihn lieben,
und wie glücklich Sie Sich an seiner seite fühlen.” Ibidem, letter II, 18, 18 May 1864 to Anna
Szalay in Osijek.
132

Kuhač was also active as a music critic in Osijek and from 1864 published reviews
on various concerts, including female pianists, in the local newspapers Esseker
Lokalblatt und Landbote, as well as in Zagreb, in the Croatian journals, especially
in Naše gore list, edited by his friend Milan Krešić. The draft of the review of some
piano pieces played by the female pianist and composer Ernestine Zdenczay, published
in Zagreb, is contained in his letter to Krešić, and was printed in his journal.39
He analysed and criticized these salon pieces for their style and compositional
incoherence, but with care, trying not to be too harsh and offend her. His objections
dealt mostly with the pieces’ lack of definite formal shape, but he praised her
pianistic skills in the passagework. He never criticized her from the perspective of
a male chauvinist as did, for example, Schönberg some fifty years later, in 1917,
when addressing the female composer Dora Pejačević.40 To the contrary, when
Kuhač wrote to a friend about what qualities Kuhač’s future wife should have, he
averred: the professionalism of a teacher and a creative person is placed at the highest
level; in brief, he was seeking a true partner.41 Finally, when he was 38, he found
her in Zagreb in the person of Marija Šrabec, sister of his friend and supporter
Armin Šrabec. However, she died two years later (when their daughter was still a
baby) and Kuhač remarried in 1876. His second marriage to Marija Zuna, a member
of a well-off family, 25 years younger, produced another daughter. His wife
cared for him very much, she was full of respect and understanding for his work,
and invested not only her finances but also her entire strength in order to help him
finalize and publish his grand oeuvre and finally took over his correspondence
with help of their daughters. After his death she handled his legacy in order to
ensure it was accorded its rightful place and advocated for acknowledgement of his
work and efforts.
39 Fr. Šaverio Kuhač, Opazke o kompozicijah gdične Ernestine Zdenczayeve [Remarks on the
compositions by Miss Ernestina Zdenczay], in: Naše gore list 5/20 (1865) p. 160; 5/21 (1865)
p. 167–168.
40 “Die Tatsache, daß Schönberg die Vertonung der Verwandlung ‘gelesen’ und gelobt hatte,
und sogar eine Aufführung bewilligte, ist eine wichtige Episode im Leben der Komponistin.
Obwohl in Schönbergs Kommentar ein offensichtlicher Widerspruch liegt, als er betont,
daß eine Frau keine Schöpferin von Musik sein kann […].” Koraljka Kos, Dora
Pejačević, Karl Kraus und Arnold Schönberg, in: International Review of the Aesthetics and
Sociology of Music 50/1–2 (2019) pp. 255–270, at p. 262.
41 “Because I can only accept such a woman who is educated, speaks several languages, knows
women’s handicrafts and would like to teach them, etc., in a word: someone with whom
I would establish a girls’ educational institute […].” Franjo Ksaver Kuhač, Korespondencija
I/1. Zagreb 1989, letter I, 114, 6 August 1860, to his friend Antal Sipos (the letter is
originally in Hungarian).
133

BETWEEN MICRO- AND MACROHISTORY
Kuhač rarely writes about important political events, at least not openly. Partly,
this was probably because such events were well known to his contemporaries.
However, his changing attitude towards Austrian, and later Austro-Hungarian
politics can be noticed in some subtle expressions. At first, he was not so interested
in politics, but when his subsidies and work began to depend on it, he had to contact
people who could mediate with decision makers. As a Hungarian music student
who spoke the language well (his first notebook with concepts contains some
Hungarian letters to his co-students42), he felt respect for the Hungarian culture
and people. In 1860, he even proudly wrote that he was wearing “a Hungarian
coat”, fashionable in Slavonia at that time. However, a few years later, on the eve of
the Austro-Hungarian Compromise, when trying to initiate a series of Croatian
and Slavic compositions with Viennese publishers, he faced many problems, and a
phrase he often quotes about “Wiener walspruch ‘für die Südslaven nichts!’” (II,
61, to the merchant Felix Lay, and to some others) points to the strong Austrian
fixation on the Hungarians, which directly disturbed his plans and activities.
Kuhač regularly read Hungarian, German and Croatian newspapers, having
subscriptions to some of them (predominantly cultural ones), and he followed
political events; in his later years especially, he commented on them, usually when
dealing with cultural policy. In 1870 he complained to a lawyer in Prague about
not receiving support for his collection, while noting that “the Croatian Parliament
allocated 40,000 forints per year for horse breeding, and the section [of the
parliamentary bill] on art was removed due to insufficient funds.”43 Kuhač tried to
garner support for his work and contacted many Parliament deputies, asked for
letters of recommendation from politicians, musicians and various intellectuals. As
a stubborn fighter for the national cause in music, in his arguments, he listed
names of publicly known persons who supported his aims:
42 In his general education in Slavonia in 1840s and 1850s, Kuhač spoke German; he possibly
also knew some Hungarian even before going to Pest-Buda, to the Conservatory, where he
became quite proficient in the language. However, during the mid-1860s, he probably lost
contact with the language and exchanged letters with his Hungarian teachers and friends
only in German. He also learnt some Croatian in Osijek, where he collected his first folksongs.
However, more dedicated attempts to learn Croatian followed only after his first
visit to Zagreb in 1863. In 1867, he complains that being of German parents, he did not have
much opportunity to learn Croatian in his childhood so that he has to catch up. Franjo
Ksaver Kuhač, Korespondencija II/2, (to be published in 2024), letter II, 101, 8 April 1867 to
Ivan Vardian, secretary to the Musikverein.
43 Franjo Ksaver Kuhač, Korespondencija III, in preparation for publishing, letter III, 22,
10 July 1870, to Juraj Baumajster in Prague, originally in Croatian.
134

My plan is already well known among the southern Slavs, and I am also
supported in some aspects, especially by His Excellence Bishop Josef
Strossmayer, the governing Prince of Serbia, Count Janković, the landowner
Livadić in Croatia, noble v. Preradović (poet and Generaloberst in
the War Ministry in Vienna), Sundečić in Montenegro etc.44
Dealing with local history, Kuhač focused his descriptions of the public events to
Osijek where he often participated himself. He was also involved in the opening of
the new theatre building45 on 31 December 1866: “People are already diligently
rehearsing: at the opening of the theatre, in addition to a Croatian piece, a quintet
with a choir from Lohengrin will be performed, as well as a piece for 8 pianos or
32 hands at the opening of the casino.”46 When he moved to Zagreb, he tried to
attend theatre and opera performances and concerts, and often published reviews
of the shows as well as biographies of the performers active in Croatia and abroad.
In connection with his fieldwork, he described not only his itineraries, but
various unusual events and accidents, including problems with transportation and
roads when touring the Zagorje region (Zagreb hinterland), strong wind and
floods (when crossing the mountain of Velebit to the coast), and even some obscure
people who tried to rob him. But the real gems of the microhistory are his descriptions
of his everyday life: where and under which circumstances he rented his
lodgings, where, what and for what price he ate, his comparisons of the food in
Zagreb and Osijek (the latter is much better, especially the meat), where he bought
his daily croissant, how the girls in Zagreb were dressed, how they were quite good
at playing the piano, but bad at housekeeping, etc. Reports from Osijek include
44 “Mein vorhaben ist unter den Südslaven schon allgemein bekannt, und ich werde in manchen
beziehungen auch unterstützt, namentlich von Sr. exzell. bischof Josef Strosmajer,
dem regier. Fürsten von Serbien, graf Janković, Gutsbesitzer Livadić in Kroatien, edlen
v. Preradović (poet und generaloberst im Kriegsministerium zu Wien), Sundečić in Montenegro
u.s.w.” Franjo Ksaver Kuhač, Korespondencija II/1. Zagreb 2022, letter II, 43, June
1865, to the music publisher C. A. Spina in Vienna.
45 The city theatre in Osijek (today: National theatre in Osijek) was festively opened on 31
December 1866 and is the oldest theatre building in Croatia still in use. It was designed by
Karlo Klausner in the historicist style, which, in accordance with the tastes of that era, is
decorated with elements of Moorish architecture. The horseshoe-shaped auditorium, built
on three levels, is designed in the tradition of Italian and Austrian theatre halls. At first,
travelling theatre companies performed there and since 1907 performances have only been
given in Croatian.
46 “Es wird schon fleissig studiert, bei der eröffnung des teaters wird ausser kroatische sache
auch ein Quintett mit chor aus Lohengrin aufgefürt, so wie bei der Casino eröffnung eine
piece für 8 klavire respective 32 händig.” Franjo Ksaver Kuhač, Korespondencija II/1. Zagreb
2022, letter II, 84, 15 December 1866, to Ignacz Reich in Budapest.
135

much daily gossip, but also useful information about marriages, deaths and migrations:
he reported, for example, that in 1866 the famous pastry chef Krežma moved
from Osijek to Zagreb (II, 69). In fact, he did it for his two young children, both
prodigies, Anka (the pianist; 1859–1914) and Franjo (the violinist; 1862–1881), in
order that they could obtain a better musical education.47 Indeed, Kuhač supplies
private information about many people who were or were to become well-known
publicly, exchanging letters with performers (such as the pianist Antal Sipos, singer
Pauline Lang, singer Franjo Gerbić, pianist Julius Epstein, Krežma brothers, etc.),
composers (Blagoje and Vladimir Bersa, Josip Hatze, Ferdo Livadić, Ivan Zajc,
Dora Pejačević, Benjamin Ipavec, Davorin Jenko, etc.), music historians and ethnologists
(István Bartalus, Felix Lay, Ludvik Kuba, Eduard Hanslick, Hugo
Riemann, etc.), music publishers (Breitkopf & Härtel, Otto Harrasowitz, Carl
Spina, etc.), various music/singing societies and journals in European countries
from Paris to Moscow, assorted politicians and journalists (Bishop Strossmayer,
the historian and the first president of the Yugoslav Academy of Sciences and Arts
Franjo Rački, the Minister for Culture Izidor Kršnjavi, historian and politician
Ivan Kukuljević-Sakcinski, journalists and booksellers Milan Krešić, Abel Lukšić,
Antun Jakić), writers and linguists (Eugen Kumičić, Vjenceslav Novak, Petar
Preradović, Rikard Katalinić-Jeretov, Vatroslav Jagić), painters (Vlaho Bukovac) as
well as many members of the nobility (Viceroys/Bans of Croatia, Levin Rauch,
Teodor Pejačević and Károly Khuen-Héderváry, and noblemen Julius Janković,
Georg Jelačić, Gustav Prandau, etc.), just to mention a few of his almost 1100 correspondents.48
FINAL REMARKS AND NEW TASKS
Owing to the significant number of letters (counting here only those written by
Kuhač, because those he received are largely missing), the long time span, and the
variety of addressees, the collection comprises a large amount of comparative material.
Yet to allow more thorough analyses, it would be necessary to have them all
edited with commentary and a careful interpretation of his ideas.
47 Franjo Krežma studied music first in Zagreb with Đuro Eisenhut, and later in Vienna with
professor Heizler. He entered the Vienna Conservatory as a nine-year-old, and finished at
the age of thirteen. After that, as Bishop Strossmayer’s protégé, he began a spectacular
career throughout Europe, accompanied by his sister at the piano. As a sixteen-year-old,
concert audiences in Rome, Prague, Venice, Genoa and Paris adored him. At the age of
seventeen, he became concert master in the Bilse’sche Kapelle in Berlin. He died on tour in
Germany at the age of nineteen due to the poor treatment of an ear infection.
48 The full list is given in S. Ries, see note 18, Appendix, pp. 224–268.
136

However, after thorough examination of the first three books, his topics can be
grouped into several units. Above all he wrote primarily about his professional interests,
stressing the importance of his work, reporting on his study trips, giving
theoretical and practical argumentation for his ideas, and sketching his plans for
further research. In addition, he provided personal information on his own life, on
his family and on personal impressions of various phenomena; he also documented
musical life in Osijek, Zagreb and to some extent in other cities where he had the
opportunity to stay for a while; finally, he gave some comments on political and
cultural life and events, always from the perspective of a misunderstood advocate
for national music.
Being a freelancer for the greater part of his active life, he had to adapt to various
situations in order to achieve his goals – either to acquire musical material, to
receive financial support, or to attain a good position in order to survive. He therefore
adapted his writing style, general tone and topics of discussion to the person
to whom the letter was directed. Although Kuhač stated that his collection of letters
was a book of copies, which is true for many of them, some letters were carefully
sketched, with corrections and insertions, and only the final version sent to
the addressee. Thus, according to Kuhač’s intention, he presented different images
of himself: to his parents he appeared a witty, self-possessed man of the world; to
his music teachers he showed his humble and respectful face concerning his compositions;
and to dignitaries (such as Bishop Strossmayer) he portrayed himself as
an expert on Slavic music, respectful, but self-confident in defending his ideas, and
adding sayings and sentences from the pen of famous authors (Goethe, Schiller,
Aristotle and others) in order to cast himself as educated and well-read. Of course,
when all these sources are lined up next to each other, occasional distortions of the
truth, different representations of the same situation, and even denial of some
information can be noticed.
Finally, throughout this time-span of some fifty years, Kuhač inevitably altered
or modified some of his ideas concerning general politics and the scope of his
works, switching from pan-Slavic to pan-south-Slavic issues. The only persistent
threads running through the letters from beginning to end are his dissatisfaction
with the (non)acceptance of his work, the lack of public recognition and the
absence of social and financial support. The study of his rich correspondence has
already resulted in new insights and offers complementary views on his own work
and personality as well as on contemporary events, which can be found in two
volumes of proceedings and a series of individual studies.49
49 The symposium on the occasion of the centenary of Kuhač’s death, entitled “Franjo Ksaver
Kuhač (1834–1911): Music Historiography and Identity” was especially important, because
it placed Kuhač in a wider international frame and context in the period when the confirmation
and/or invention of national identities was crucial in the profiling of a nation.
137

Within the epistolary culture of intellectual life in the nineteenth century, Kuhač,
with his many letters, is no exception in intellectual spheres, but rare among
musicians, who were less consistent in the practice. Many learned people kept in
touch with their friends and other contacts through correspondence (in Croatia,
the best known are Bishop Strossmayer, the historian Franjo Rački and the writer
Ivana Brlić Mažuranić). Their letters form important sources for studying their
lives, work and the context of their activities. When one takes into account the
importance of Kuhač’s work and the enormous scope of his achievements, through
which he laid the foundations of musicological research, music historiography and
ethnomusicological research in Croatia, it is clear that the echoes of this self-possessed
researcher’s work were understood only later, especially in the inter-war
period. That is why they formed the basis for scholarly study, as well as sources of
inspiration for composers during the first half of the twentieth century.
Cf. Franjo Ksaver Kuhač (1834–1911): Music Historiography and Identity, ed. by Vjera
Katalinić and Stanislav Tuksar. Zagreb 2013.
138

Tomasz Pudłocki (Krakow)
EGO DOCUMENTS
AS SOURCES FOR MUSICAL ACTIVITIES
IN THE GALICIAN HIGH SCHOOLS, 1867–1914
INTRODUCTION
Ego documents constitute the most popular sources in the research on high schools
in Galicia under Austria-Hungary during the time of the autonomy (1867–1914).
Several publications have come out more recently on the history of particular
schools, where memoirs, diaries, and letters form a significant source corpus,1 but
also a number of monographs that present a methodological approach to this specific
source.2 Unfortunately, even those researchers who appreciate the significance
of ego documents in the history of education (which is by no means a new tendency)
are often seduced by the charm of the authors’ descriptions and read them uncritically.
Hence we frequently find extended citations in books that, depending on
the context, may illustrate contradictory points. I have written about this in my
review of Dorota Grabowska-Pieńkosz’s book, the only Polish language work to
have explored in detail the image of teachers in memoirs during the Austrian
Partition.3 It is worth noting that after the reform of secondary education at the
beginning of the twentieth century, which allowed for new forms of pedagogical
activity, the offer of extracurricular forms of education was greatly expanded.
When interpreting ego documents, knowledge of the changing school regulations
1 Of the many publications devoted to Galician high schools I have selected only some latest
ones in Ukrainian and Polish: Бережанська гімназія: Сторінки історії, Ювілейна
книга, ed. by Надія Волинець. Бережани–Тернопіль–Джура 2007; Мирославa
Кочержук, Українська державна гімназія в Коломиї 1892–1944. Коломия 2011;
Михайло Кріль, Самбірська гімназія, шлях у 225 років, vol. 1. Дрогобич 2017; Степан
Заброварний, ІІ Державна Жіноча Вчительська Семінарія в Перемишлі (1872–1936).
Перемишль–Львів 2018; W mieście Nowy Sącz, na Długosza przy Plantach. I Gimnazjum i
Liceum im. Jana Długosza w Nowym Sączu, ed. by Jakub Bulzak. Nowy Sącz 2018; Ewa
Nowacka, I Liceum Ogólnokształcące im. Króla Władysława Jagiełły w Dębicy we wspomnieniach
nauczycieli i uczniów. Dębica 2020.
2 Dorota Grabowska-Pieńkosz, Zapisani w pamięci. Nauczyciele zaboru austriackiego w literaturze
pamiętnikarskiej, Toruń 2016; Czesław Galek, Szkoła i nauczyciel w II połowie XIX
wieku na północno-wschodnich terenach Monarchii Austro-Węgierskiej. Zamość 2012.
3 Tomasz Pudłocki, Review of: Dorota Grabowska-Pieńkosz, Zapisani w pamięci. Nauczyciele
zaboru austriackiego w literaturze pamiętnikarskiej, Toruń 2016, in: Kwartalnik Historyczny
125/4 (2018) pp. 998–1002.
139

is useful – therefore, one cannot build a static picture of a Galician school but
needs to pay attention to the dynamics of change due to particular cultural and
legislative inflection points.4 Unfortunately, even though musical activities at high
schools and teacher training colleges were an important part of education and have
become a significant subject of research,5 the effects of the activities at colleges on
those at schools remain understudied.6 In this paper, I would like to focus on
selected student memories of teaching music in Galician high schools between
1867 and 1914 and tackle the question of how they may help to capture the specific
nature of music education and to what extent they reflect their authors’ private
opinions on the past reality described. Furthermore, I emphasize that high school
musical activities were often part of the town’s life and cannot be treated as part of
the school milieu only, i.e. as “children’s or minors’” productions without serious
artistic value. Therefore the musical entanglements between school and town
found in ego documents are also presented. To support the theses, the article is
divided into three sections. The first explains the nature and qualities of the memoir
as an ego document. The second analyses atypical and typical sources for high
school musical activities. The third and final section attempts to show that ego
documents are valuable sources for explaining the interlacing between school and
urban musical activities. As examples, I have relied on sources produced for memorial
books, documents celebrating round anniversaries of a particular school’s establishment
or graduation booklets, but I have also used documents written for
daily newspapers and those written without any thought of publication. Although
all the non-published sources were written many years after graduation, they allow
us to capture different aspects of the issue at hand.
4 I have made similar remarks in the review of Edmund Juśko’s latest book. See Tomasz
Pudłocki, Review of: Edmund Juśko, Pozalekcyjne formy oddziaływań wychowawczych na
młodzież publicznych polskich szkół średnich w autonomicznej Galicji, Rzeszów 2020, in:
Kwartalnik Historyczny 130/2 (2023) pp. 450–458.
5 For recent literature on the subject see: Wojciech Motyka, Wychowanie muzyczne młodzieży
w środkowej części Gliacji w okresie autonomicznym (1867–1914). Rzeszów 2018; Jolanta
Wąsacz-Krztoń, Edukacja muzyczna młodzieży gimnazjalnej w Galicji Zachodniej w dobie
autonomii. Rzeszów 2019.
6 Cf. Maria Stinia, Review of: Jolanta Wąsacz-Krztoń, Edukacja muzyczna młodzieży gimnazjalnej
w Galicji Zachodniej w dobie autonomii, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Rzeszowskiego,
Rzeszów 2019, pp. 308, in: Rocznik Przemyski. Historia 59/4 (28) (2022) pp. 255–262.
140

THE NATURE AND QUALITIES OF THE MEMOIR
AS AN EGO DOCUMENT
Christiane Lahusen, reflecting on the meaning of ego documents, emphasized the
fundamental differences between autobiography and memoirs:
Although the boundaries between the two forms are fluid, memoir is distinct
from autobiography in that it characteristically involves inserting an
individual life story into a larger context of public or historic consequence;
it focuses on participation by an individual, most commonly a public personality,
in public life, in public events, not on the reconstruction of an
individual’s developmental history. Although the subjective past does play
a role, memoirs principally deal with “an event, an era, an institution, a
class identity”7.
Looking at the context is therefore a crucial part of analyzing memoirs. First of all,
a memoir is primarily a piece of writing in which the author, narrator, and main
character are the same person, and the main task is to describe the events from
their own perspective. It is worth emphasizing right away that most of the sources
in which the authors intentionally reminisce about their school years contain positive
narratives. Memoirists willingly recall their childhood, painting a colorful
picture of the past.8 Secondary school – a period fundamental in view of the
choices available in adult life – is most often presented as unique with a carefully
selected group of teachers and colleagues who achieved professional success in
adult life. Compared to other schools, the one the author attended is the one and
only. And all the inconveniences of school times (e.g. accommodation, social disadvantages,
or even a few bad teachers) fall into the background in comparison to
the feeling of being chosen and belonging to a carefully selected community. Considering
the still very small group of state gymnasiums in Galicia before 1914 (compared
to other countries in the Habsburg Monarchy), this belief was by no means
unfounded. The memoirs provide information not only about everyday life but
also about the students’ life goals, as well as the evolution of their attitudes and
aspirations. It is also an excellent source of information about human behavior in
the face of ongoing changes, and the formation of awareness of individuals or
entire communities.9
7 Christiane Lahusen, Memoirs, in: Handbook of Autobiography, vol. 1, ed. by Martina
Wagner- Egelhaaf. Berlin–Boston 2019, p. 626.
8 Grabowska-Pieńkosz, see note 2, p. 24.
9 Ibidem, p. 23–24.
141

For the purposes of this article, I have chosen a group of ego documents in which
memories related to the musical life of Galician secondary schools appear. Such
references are rare. For the most part, these are short page texts of only a few pages,
hence there are few musical reflections. The exceptions include the long (about
100-page) memoirs of former secondary school students, namely Karol Korta,
Stepan Shakh, and Tadeusz Porembalski (the latter still only available in the manuscript).
The vast majority were addressed to classmates and only rarely to the
public. These memoirs are part of the memorial culture in which they are embedded,
namely the anniversaries of the students’ graduations, which were celebrated
in the schools as public memorial events. In the Polish pre- and post-World War II
context these meetings were highly formalized with special programs. Documents
(programs, memoirs, memory books) pertaining to these reunions were seldom
published.10 The situation was different if the anniversary of the school’s foundation
was being celebrated because then a number of texts were published in memory
books before the official celebrations. Therefore, the memories were written
intentionally and evoked in a specific context.
Among the authors, high school teachers and university professors predominate.
High school teachers and (occasionally) principals were: Stepan Shakh, Józef
Stachowicz, and Jan Świerzewicz. Karol Estreicher became a professor of art
history at the Jagiellonian University, Bohdan Łepky a professor of Ukrainian philology
at the Jagiellonian University and a senator in interwar Poland, Władysław
Tarnawski a professor of English philology at the University of Lviv. Tadeusz
Porembalski (mining engineer, oil industry official, and mayor of Przemyśl after
World War II) and Karol Korta (at the time the memoir was printed, retired head
of a department in the Ministry of Treasury) became officials. Bronisław Filipczak
became a notary public and an animator of musical life in the towns where he
worked professionally, i.e. in Lesko, Tarnopol, and Sanok. Therefore, among them,
there are people who connected their professional life with education, thereby confirming
in their memories the meaning of the chosen path. Intellectuals and representatives
of the intelligentsia, who reached the peak of their influence in the
country in the period between the two World Wars, were pushed from the social
pedestal in favor of the workers after World War II. Hence, the texts written before
1939 are, in a way, an affirmation of the chosen path, despite pauperization and
complaints about the surplus of people with higher education. Memory documents
that were created after 1945 refer to ideals already severely outdated in the new
political realities. Perhaps the world of youth seems even more idealized in them,
and the value of education is accorded greater value than it really had.
10 Cf. Tomasz Pudłocki, Blask szarości … Życie codzienne w I Państwowym Gimnazjum im.
Juliusza Słowackiego w Przemyślu w latach 1918–1939. Przemyśl 2004, pp. 86–90.
142

In such a short article, many of the contexts of music-making in autonomous Galician
high schools have to be omitted. My aim is not to give a comprehensive study
of musical life but to stress that the analysis of ego documents covering a broad
knowledge of schools’ everyday life (milieus, buildings, surroundings, law, mentality,
languages, official and unofficial ways of behavior, location on the map of
Galicia, interconnectedness of various factors like cultural, religious practices, the
place of imperial, regional and local space in the processes of bringing up, etc.) are
an essential part of better understanding the phenomena in the period under examination.
These entanglements are often hard to define – they were unconscious,
yet developed in the process of school education in practice, knowledge, information,
images, actors, or actants.11 A good example of these entanglements is the
article of Lee Rothfarb on Heinrich Schenker – a Galician-born Jewish-Austrian
music theorist whose writings profoundly influenced the field of musical analysis
in the twentieth century. Even if Schenker himself said nothing about his secondary-school
education, Rothfarb made a successful attempt to recreate Schenker’s
school environment both in Lviv and Brzeżany (Berezhany).12
TYPICAL AND EXCEPTIONAL SOURCES OF THE
HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL ACTIVITIES
I enrolled at the Lower High School in the school year 1888/89 […]. At that
time only Ukrainian youths had a mixed singing ensemble, with boys’
sopranos and altos, for the sake of the Greek Catholic church rite. There
was always a student among them who knew how to lead a choir, which
the catechist of that rite, Rev. Moskalik, was aware of. Some Polish
students also belonged to that group and took part in the services at the
Uniat church on holidays according to the Greek Catholic rite. And likewise,
the group (Ukrainians as well as Poles) would perform in church
masses in the Latin rite, singing Polish sacred songs.13
11 See e.g.: Jan Surman, Re-connecting Central European Science: An Introduction, in: Science
Interconnected: German-Polish Scholarly Entanglements in Modern History, ed. by Jan
Surman. Marburg 2022, pp. 1–37.
12 Lee Rothfarb, Henryk Szenker, Galitzianer: The Making of a Man and a Nation, in: Journal
of Schenkerian Studies 11 (2018) pp. 1–50.
13 “Do gimnazjum wstąpiłem w r. 1888/89 […] Wówczas tylko młodzież ukraińska miała
zespół śpiewaczy mieszany, z chłopięcymi sopranami i altami, dla celów liturgicznych
obrządku greckokatolickiego. Zawsze znalazł się między nimi jakiś uczeń, który umiał chór
poprowadzić, przy czym i katecheta tego obrządku, ks. Moskalik, o tym pamiętał.
Niektórzy uczniowie Polacy należeli również do tego zespołu i brali udział w w
nabożeństwach w cerki, w dniach świątecznych według obrządku gr.-kat. I nawzajem,
143

In school memoirs published years later, forms of musical activities are merely
mentioned. The excerpt above from Bronisław Filipczak’s (1877–1973) memoir on
his education at a high school in Sanok at the end of the nineteenth century is a
rarity – it is hard to find such detailed and comprehensive ego document on school
musical activities. It can be explained partly because of the Filipczak’s musical
activities in adult life. It is an attempt to present the significance that local people
attributed to the music as well as the multicultural nature of the school in a provincial
town. Sanok, situated off the main Lviv–Cracow railway route, in the
memory of an ex-student reaching sixty years backwards to the time of his youth,
is a town where music played an important role, bringing together young people of
two nationalities as well as two Catholic rites – the Latin and the Greek ones.
From the perspective of Communist Poland in 1958, Filipczak shows the world of
his youth is long gone. Music education in Galicia was provided not by school but
largely by the Church, where the priests, usually religious instructors, tried to enhance
the students’ faith by running choirs and making them sensitive to the
beauty of religious songs. Thus the teachers filled the students’ leisure time and
bound them to traditional values like a love for beauty, tradition, religion, and sacred
music.
However, it is important to note that memoirs like Filipczak’s that give a detailed
account of musical life are not typical of student memories written ex post
but rather the exception. His reflections consist of several pages, written a few
decades later for publication in the memorial book of the Sanok High School, and
are wholly devoted to musical activities at school. Filipczak commemorated musically
talented students and teachers and the context of the operation of separate
Ukrainian and Polish choirs, as well as the school orchestra set up in the spring of
1890. The detailed nature of the account is surprising. The author highlighted the
attempts of successive principals to obtain financial means to buy instruments, the
circumstances in which young artists performed, the problems with accidental
damage to instruments by hot-tempered and inexperienced high school students,
and the relations between the high school and the town authorities and the bandmaster
of the factory orchestra, Kirszanek, who supported the talented youths
from Sanok.14
Reading Filipczak’s memories, one may get the impression that music was the
most important activity of young people. Nothing could be further from the truth.
zespół ten (Ukraińcy z Polakami) występował w kościele na nabożeństwach w dniach
świątecznych według obrządku łac.-kat., śpiewając pieśni kościelne polskie”. Bronisław
Filipczak, Chór i orkiestra gimnazjalna w najwcześniejszych latach, in: Księga Pamiątkowa
Gimnazjum Męskiego w Sanoku 1888–1958, ed. by Józef Stachowicz. Kraków 1958, p. 157.
English translations by the author unless stated otherwise.
14 Ibidem, pp. 156–162.
144

Singing lessons, which, along with calligraphy and drawing were optional classes
in the lower forms of the high school, were popular among students only in certain
cases: when taught by good teachers (practitioners), with appropriate equipment
(the musical scores, musical instruments, room for practicing) and promoting extracurricular
musical activities. Even if it was possible to organize a choir at school,
either it would turn out to be short-lived, or manifestations of its activity were rare.
It was even harder for school orchestras; the size of the group hardly ever exceeded
a dozen people, and those which went beyond the level of school celebrations were
few and far between at the turn of the twentieth century. Filipczak mentions that
himself. Based on his account, the life of the orchestra at the Sanok High School
can be estimated to have run from 1890 to 1903, yet at least one paragraph is quite
telling:
The students who were members of the orchestra passed their school-leaving
exams in 1892 and the life of the orchestra ended, but the instruments
remained, waiting for a new conductor. In the school year 1893/4, a new
student took up the conducting of a brass band. And so sixth-graders were
gathered again, but that band lasted only one year. I attended a few lessons
with that orchestra but I don’t remember any of its performances. And
then everything went quiet again; the town hall took away the instruments.
For the school celebration of Adam Mickiewicz in the year 1894/5
only a few violinists and a flutist turned up.15
The author managed to capture a specific aspect of the student’s extra-curricular
activity: it was largely dependent on a charismatic leader (a teacher or a senior
student) who was able to attract a group of enthusiasts. If there were talented instrumentalists,
the idea was put into action, but soon, after a year or two it would
collapse when the leader left. After all, he wrote that only two years after the dissolution
of the school orchestra, it was difficult to assemble a new one. For the
needs of the school performance, only a few violinists and a flutist were gathered,
when only several dozen months earlier the ensemble included a number of instrumentalists,
who would not have been ashamed to have been compared to the
15 “Uczniowie należący do orkiestry zdali maturę w r. 1892 i żywot orkiestry się skończył, ale
instrumenty pozostały, czekając na nowego dyrygenta. W roku szkolnym 1893/4 znalazł się
znowu uczeń, który się podjął prowadzenia dętej orkiestry. I znów się zebrali uczniowie
klasy VI; ale ten zespół trwał jeden rok tylko. Byłem na kilku lekcjach tej orkiestry, ale
żadnego jej występu nie pamiętam. I znów zapanowała cisza; magistrat instrumenty
odebrał. Na akademię mickiewiczowską w r. 1894/5 zebrano tylko skrzypków i flecistę”.
Ibidem, p. 160.
145

professional philharmonic orchestra. It is therefore hard to speak of any continuity
of musical life in the high school life. It is interesting, however, that Filipczak
wrote nothing about the repertoire of the school ensembles apart from an enigmatic
statement that the choirs sang mainly patriotic and religious songs.
If any published memoir can be compared with the Filipczak’s in its accuracy
of descriptions of musical life it would probably be Bohdan Łepky’s (1872–1941).
The Ukrainian poet, writer, artist, and finally professor of Jagiellonian University
in Krakow didn’t write in such a detailed way about the musical traditions during
his school years but there is no doubt that in his view they partly played an important
role in Polish High School in Brzeżany (Berezhany). He remembered the
1880s as a musical period mainly due to the two good choirs (Polish and Ukrainians),
ethnically mixed orchestra, and many public concerts. Lepky even compared
the quality of performances to the famous ones in the seventeenth- and eighteenth-century
Jesuit colleges and the Kyiv Academy. He was absolutely positive
that varied and high-standard musical activities were first of all the result of the
work and dedication of the music teacher, Martin Burgiet, a Czech who never
learned proper Polish and above all, a great trumpet player, and huge support of
the principal of the school, Mateusz Kurowski. Additionally, two students one year
older than Lepky, Marian Gottlieb (flutist) and Aleksander Hillbricht (singer)
were two driving forces behind any new ideas and who almost literally infected
colleagues with new forms of musical activity.16 As he recalled:
The professors went to our concerts, but they [Marian Gottlieb and
Aleksander Hillbricht] targeted them: they said that the director of the
gymnasium was doing some kind of conservation and that the students,
instead of participating in the classes, were playing and singing for days
until their ears withered. The director may have heard these complaints,
but he ignored them because he loved singing and music very much. He
himself played the piano well and especially liked to play the harmonium.
He attended choir and orchestra rehearsals, listened, and sometimes
praised, but did not give any instructions. He said that the most valuable
thing is what the boys themselves could achieve, and not what is thrown
at them from above.17
16 Богдан Лепкий, Гімназія за директора Куровського, in: Бережанська гімназія:
Сторінки історії, Ювілейна книга, ed. by Надія Волинець. Бережани–Тернопіль–
Джура 2007, p. 56.
17 Ibidem (“Професори ходили на наші концерти, але накіралі на ніх: казали, шчо
директор з гімназії робут якуc буцім-то консервацію і, шчо учні, зміст шкілнів
предметів, грають та біспівуют цилімі днями, шчо аж вуха вянут. Директор, може,
й чув ці нарікання, але на зважаль на них, бо дуже любив спів і музику. Сам гарно
146

What ego documents mention most frequently is the music accompanying annual
evenings in honor of the poet Adam Mickiewicz or the Three National Bards
(Poles) or Taras Shevchenko (Ukrainians) by graduates.18 Apart from exceptional
occasions, these evenings were the only theatre and music initiatives that school
authorities (in the case of autonomous Galicia, it was the National School Council
in Lviv) allowed to be organized in individual secondary schools. The program was
quite typical of them. They included the director’s introduction, an occasional
speech by one of the teachers about selected elements of the poet’s life and work, as
well as a more or less extensive theatre and music program. While until the 1890s,
in most cases, they were organized in schools, later they were often held in local
cultural association buildings that had a sufficiently large hall. The facilities were
important because the evenings constituted informal celebrations of the school,
and the audience, apart from the school community and parents, often included
local secular, military, and church notables. Each time the National School Council
had to approve their curriculum. Despite the censorship, the level of artistic
performance was often very high, the schools competed with each other, trying to
outdo each other in ingenuity and repertoire, and reports on these events were
published by both the local and capital press, i.e. Krakow and Lviv.
For instance, Karol Estreicher (1906–1984), later an eminent art historian at
the Jagiellonian University in his quite extensive memoirs of High School No. 3 in
Cracow only wrote, “At the recent Evening of the Three Bards (1918) Władysław
Krasnowiecki performed as Konrad in Dziady and Chopin’s mazurkas were played
by Mieczysław Münz, an outstanding pianist, now living in New York.”19
Estreicher mentioned one of the major Polish pianists living in the USA somewhat
casually, whereas Münz as a nine-year-old, not only attended high school where he
was a private student but joined the Cracow Conservatory and studied with Jerzy
грал на фортепіяні особливо любив грати на фісгармноії. Годил на проби хору і
оркесрти, слухав, часом похваліл, але своїх бказівок не давал. Казав, шчо
найцінніше те, до чого шлопці самі дійдуть, а не то, шчо їм накинется згори”).
18 See Tomasz Pudłocki, Recepcja Mickiewicza w I Gimnazjum w Przemyślu w czasach
galicyjskich, in: Rocznik Przemyski. Literatura i Język 42/3 (2006) pp. 57–64; Tomasz
Pudłocki, Z dziejów recepcji Słowackiego w Przemyślu w końcu XIX w. i w pierwszej połowie
XX w. (do 1939 r.), in: Przez błękit i gwiazdy jestem z Wami. W 200. rocznicę urodzin Juliusza
Słowackiego, ed. by Mariusz Chrostek – Tomasz Pudłocki – Jerzy Starnawski. Przemyśl–
Rzeszów 2009, pp. 249–267.
19 “Na ostatnim wieczorze Trzech Wieszczów (1918) w roli Konrada w Dziadach wystąpił
Władysław Krasnowiecki a mazurki Chopina grał Mieczysław Münz, wybitny pianista,
obecnie żyjący w Nowym Jorku”. Karol Estreicher, Przeciw niepamięci, in: Księga
Pamiątkowa III Gimnazjum obecnie II Liceum im. Króla Jana III Sobieskiego, 1883–1983.
Kraków 1984, p. 243.
147

Lalewicz, although he spent more time at the Vienna Academy than in Cracow.20
Later Münz became a student of Ferruccio Busoni in Berlin, once he had already
established his international career as a pianist.21 He was therefore already one of
the most outstanding students when attending the high school. Obviously, it is
hard to blame Estreicher for highlighting in his memoirs those elements which he
thought important for him, and which then only turned out to be significant
ex post.
Stepan Shakh, later the director of the Ukrainian Gymnasium in Przemyśl,
also recalled that when the young composer Stanisław Ludkevych was transferred
to the Ukrainian-language Academic Gymnasium in Lviv, his skills were immediately
relevant. Although the artist taught Ukrainian and Latin, the conductor of
the school choir, Prof. Jarosław Witoszyński asked him to support the annual
Shevchenko evening. At that time, the cantata-symphony Caucasus, written by
Ludkevych to the words of the poet, was not yet finished but he was persuaded to
add it to the event. And although the piece was reworked for several years and its
final version was eventually completed for choir and orchestra, its first performance
was during a school evening for the male choir alone. Shakh spoke highly
of Ludkevych, emphasizing that the teacher lived for music and the Greek ideals
of beauty and goodness, and over time he became one of the most important
Ukrainian composers.22
Shakh wrote little about the musical traditions of the school, although he admitted
that he sang as a soprano in his first years of school. He emphasized the role
of Prof. Witoszyński, who included church and secular songs in the repertoire. In
addition, he mentioned the names of colleagues endowed with musical talents who
were soloists, among whom Hryhor Khrushch (tenor) and Pavlo Han (alto) stood
out.23
Much more typical are the memories of Jan Świerzawicz, who, at the beginning
of the twentieth century, attended the high school in Sanok. Music forms
only a small part of his ego documents and the description of musical activities is
not detailed. As he wrote,
[…] before the short sermon for students preceding the Sunday Mass, we
used to sing. In fact, we enjoyed singing a lot, doing it at every opportunity,
20 Sprawozdanie Dyrekcji c.k. III Gimnazjum w Krakowie za rok szkolny 1917/18. Kraków 1918,
p. 29.
21 For more see: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mieczys%C5%82aw_Munz, accessed March
24, 2023.
22 Степан Шах, Львів – місто моєї молодості. Цісарсько-Королівська Академічна
Гімназія. Львів 2010, p. 99.
23 Ibidem, p. 153.
148

Plate 1: 19 III 1910. The orchestra of Ukrainian High School in Przemyśl, Galicia.
Courtesy of Muzeum Narodowe Ziemi Przemyskiej w Przemyślu (MPf-14191).
and we also had a school orchestra, which would often play at funerals,
which really annoyed Prof. Gołczewski. Singing was taught at our school
by Sygnarski. The repertoire was abundant, especially as regards religious
songs; abundant and respectable, like Mozart, Gluck, and Schubert.24
Świerzawicz emphasized the usefulness of teaching music in the daily life of a
Galician high school. Firstly, it was supposed to make religious celebrations at the
schools more attractive – from Sunday Masses to the not infrequent funerals of
students or teachers. The music played was by renowned composers, uncontroversial
with conservative Austrian officials, and simple enough to be performed by
24 Jan Świerzawicz, Wspomnienia z lat 1901–1908, in: Księga Pamiątkowa Gimnazjum Męskiego
w Sanoku 1888–1958, ed. by Józef Stachowicz. Kraków 1958, p. 176.
149

teenage musicians. Furthermore, the music was by artists whose scores were easily
available. We can read more about that in Józef Stachowicz who started his education
at the Sanok High School in September 1913:
Attending a church service to mark the beginning of the school year
1913/14 […] I was thrilled by the singing I heard from the organ gallery. It
was the high school choir. It was the first time I had heard a male fourvoice
choir. Powerful basses mingled with sopranos and tenors. The
fourth- and fifth-graders were twenty years old. No wonder then that
there was no shortage of candidates and voices. I listened, bewitched, to
the powerful tunes of such Latin songs as “O salutaris Hostia”, “Ecce
panis angelorum” or Polish ones like “Senni, grzeszni, zapomniani” or
“Zdrowaś Maria, Bogurodzica”. I promptly found out that the choir was
conducted by Mr. Konieczko, that it was an optional subject and one may
enroll every Saturday.25
Although it soon turned out that the author of those memories had no ear for
music and sang out of tune, he remembered that the headmaster encouraged him
not to give up and declared his own love of music.
Rather uncharacteristic for ego documents on the musical life in Galician
schools are the memoirs of Tadeusz Porembalski. Unlike all the previous examples,
they were not written for the occasion of a jubilee of a given school. They were
handwritten and described Przemyśl before World War I. Quite detailed, they
were not written with the aim of being published, rather the author submitted the
manuscript to the Ossoliński National Institute in Lviv. Even though he had never
risen beyond the local level, which is why he might be considered a typical high
school graduate of that time, Porembalski left a lot of information about the musical
life at High School No. 3 in Przemyśl. He happened to study there at the time
the school competed with the orchestra of the Ukrainian High School in Przemyśl
and was pretty successful. As he wrote:
25 “Będąc na nabożeństwie otwierającym rok szkolny 1913/14 […] zostałem wstrząśnięty
śpiewem, jaki doszedł do mnie z chóru kościelnego. Śpiewał chór gimnazjalny. Pierwszy raz
słyszałem chór męski czterogłosowy. Młodzież w klasie czwartej, piątej mała po dwadzieścia
lat. Nic więc dziwnego, iż kandydatów oraz materiału głosowego nie brakło. Jak urzeczony
słuchałem potężnej melodii takich pieśni łacińskich jak: ‘O salutaris Hostia’, – potem ‘Ecce
panis angleroum’ – lub polskich ‘Senni, grzeszni, zapomniani’, ‘Zdrowaś Maria,
Bogurodzica’. Dopytałem się szybki, że chór prowadzi p. Konieczko, że jest to przedmiot
nadobowiązkowy, że wpisać się można każdej soboty”. Józef Stachowicz, Drogą Andrzeja
Radka, in: Księga Pamiątkowa Gimnazjum Męskiego w Sanok 1888–1958, ed. by Józef
Stachowicz. Kraków 1958, p. 218.
150

Our orchestra was invited to various shows, fairs, festivities, etc. I loved
music and participating in the orchestra. […] Our music skills were pretty
high, which we owed to the organizational abilities of our conductor,
Professor Witold Nowak, and his persistent and hard work. He was assisted
in it by professors Jan Barącz, who introduced a number of Wagner’s
pieces, and Leon Pilecki, who was a very good French horn player, as well
as Professor Gawryś, a violinist. […] Our repertoire was quite extensive, as
the conductor’s file included a lot of marches, waltzes, polkas, mazurkas,
cracoviennes, and polonaises. We played various potpourris, distinctive
pieces (usually German), and a lot of classical music, like overtures to
operas and concertos, oratorios, violin and piano concertos with the
accompaniment of the orchestra. The scores and instruments were brought
from Weinhold in Dresden.26
The orchestra of High School No. 3 in Przemyśl, established in 1908, enjoyed enormous
support of the bandmaster of the 77th Infantry Regiment, Jan Pešta, who
composed the Studenten Ouverture especially for them. This kind of support and
cooperation was not typical, even if occasionally mentioned in other sources.27
Moreover, it was thanks to the involvement of musically gifted students and graduates
of that school that it was possible to reconstruct the orchestra of the local
Music Society before World War I. When the leader of the ensemble and its
conductor Prof. Witold Nowak became the President of the local Music Society, he
included the majority of students in the Society’s orchestra and helped it to flourish.
Therefore, the Society – crucial to the music life of Przemyśl until the 1890s –
26 “Orkiestra nasza była zapraszana na różne przedstawienia, kiermasze, festyny itd.
Przepadałem za muzyką i udziałem w orkiestrze […] Poziom naszej orkiestry był dość
wysoki, co zawdzięczać należy przede wszystkim zdolnościom organizacyjnym naszego
dyrygenta prof. Nowaka Witolda i jego wytrwałej, ciężkiej pracy. Pomagali mu prof. Jan
Barącz, wprowadzając szereg utworów Wagnera, oraz prof. dr Leon Pilecki, który grał
bardzo dobrze na waltorni, także prof. Gawryś, skrzypek. […] Repertuar nasz był dość
bogaty, bo mieliśmy w tece dyrygenckiej sporo marszów, walców, polek, mazurków,
krakowiaków, polonezów. Graliśmy różne potpourri, utwory charakterystyczne (przeważnie
niemieckie), sporo poważnej muzyki, jak uwertury z oper i koncerty, oratoria, koncerty
skrzypcowe i fortepianowe z towarzyszeniem orkiestry. Nuty i instrumenty sprowadzano
od Weinholda z Drezna”. Zakład Narodowy im. Ossolińskich we Wrocławiu, Manuscript
15394/II: Porembalski Tadeusz, Wspomnienia z lat 1896–1960, p. 84–85.
27 For more see: Tomasz Pudłocki, Power and entertainment in the shade of General Anton von
Galgótzy – the contribution of military music to the cultural life of the Przemyśl Fortress (1891–
1905), in: Musica Olomucensia 35/1 (2023), pp. 27–47.
151

played an important role in musical productions once more.28 Porembalski’s
memoir, in which he by no means limits himself to musical subjects, reveals a circle
of teachers and students close-knit and devoting lots of time to perfecting their
skills. They brought musical scores from the far-away Saxony, bought missing
instruments, regularly met to rehearse, and even went to opera performances in
nearby Lviv. The author includes the names of the students who formed particular
parts of the school orchestra and lists in detail the occasions at which the ensemble
presented their skills in Przemyśl. It is a rare example, though, of someone devoting
so much space in their school memoirs to music. Although Porembalski became
a mining engineer by profession, he remained a great music lover until the end of
his life, and this may explain why he devoted so much space to his school musical
activities in his memoirs.
EGO DOCUMENTS AS SOURCES THAT PRESENT
THE ENTANGLEMENTS BETWEEN THE
SCHOOL AND TOWN’S MUSICAL ACTIVITIES
It is worth drawing attention to one more aspect of musical life encountered in ego
documents that describe school life at the time. Even if the authors of the memoirs
presented above did not mention singing lessons because they attended calligraphy
or drawing classes instead, when living as students in a bigger city they did not fail
to notice the effect of music on the life of the local intelligentsia, as is evidenced by
the extensive memoirs of Karol Korta (1877–1955) about his education at St. Anne
Gimnazjum in Cracow at the end of the nineteenth century. As the author noted,
July and August were the time when the Lviv opera and operetta would
come to Cracow, led by the famous composer Henryk Jarecki (1846–1918),
and performed at the theatre in Plac Szczepański. Myszkowski, Skalski,
Gasiński, Jerzyna, and the women: Kasprowiczowa, Kliszewska, Skalska,
and the renowned Bocskay, satisfied the Cracovians’ craving for music,
with Der Vogelhändler, Der arme Jonathan, the exotic Mikado, Don Cesar,
28 For more see: Tomasz Pudłocki, Zanim doszło do odnowienia Towarzystwa Muzycznego w
Przemyślu… – karta z działalności muzycznej profesorów i uczniów gimnazjum zasańskiego,
in: Wczoraj i dziś Towarzystwa Muzycznego w Przemyślu. 150 lat działalności 1862–2012, ed.
by Magdalena Betleja. Przemyśl 2012, pp. 51–71; Tomasz Pudłocki, Entertainment or
National Duty? The Role of Music in the Life of Eastern Galician Provincial Towns 1867–1914,
in: Cultural and artistic transfers in theatre and music: past, present, and perspectives, ed. by
Michaela Mojžišová. Bratislava 2021, p. 62–63.
152

and Der lustige Krieg, and Salomea Kruszelnicka with the tenors Myszuga
and Okornicki and bass Zegarkowski delighted the audience in Verdi’s
operas, [and also in] Halka, The Haunted Manor, Carmen, Cavalleria
Rusticana, and Pagliacci.29
Korta, who only remembered singing the Te Deum and a folk hymn Gott erhalte
Franz den Kaiser by Joseph Haydn at school during obligatory church services,30
recalled many details about the music life of the city. However, while his reminiscence
of the way the folk hymn was apparently sung seems casual, the enumeration
of the summer program of the Lviv opera and operetta may be surprising. It is
worth bearing in mind, though, that while writing, the author used a lot of sources
connected with the history of the school and Cracow, therefore it could have been
second-hand information. The details of the names of performers and titles of
music pieces were supposed to lend credibility to his account. Were all the members
of the school community reluctant to manifest their loyalty towards the
Kaiser? This seems to be rather far-fetched, and it is important to note that it was
written from the vantage point of the 1930s when the political reality was completely
different.
The entanglements between the school and the town’s music activities are also
seen in other ego documents. Even if the notes were short and accidentally added
to press reports written on different topics it was not so rare that the authors were
looking back to their school years when sharing the readers’ common experiences.
The professor of English philology at the King John Casimir University of Lviv
and the local journalist, Władysław Tarnawski (1885–1951) recalled musical jokes
from their youth from High School No. 1 in Przemyśl. Even if he claimed to be
unmusical himself, for the majority of his school mates, music played an important
role in general education and bringing up boys from the middle classes:
29 “Na lipiec i sierpień zjeżdżała do Krakowa opera i operetka lwowska pod kierunkiem
słynnego kompozytora Henryka Jareckiego (ur. 1846, um. 1918) i dawała przedstawienia w
teatrze na Placu Szczepańskim. Myszkowski, Skalski, Gasiński, Jerzyna, a z kobiet
Kasprowiczowa, Kliszewska, Skalska i słynna Bocskay bawili żądnych muzyki krakowian
Ptasznikiem z Tyrolu, Biednym Jonatanem, egzotycznym Mikadem, Don Cezarem i Wesołą
wojną, a Salomea Kruszelnicka i tenorzy Myszuga i Okornicki oraz bas Zegarkowski zachwycali
w operach Verdiego, w Halce, Strasznym dworze, Carmenie, Rycerskości wieśniaczej i
Pajacach”. Karol Korta, Gimnazjum św. Anny w Krakowie – wspomnienia ucznia z lat 1888–
96. Kraków 1938, p. 104.
30 Ibidem, pp. 115 and 119.
153

Around the year 1900, very popular, also in Poland, was the operetta by
[William Schwenck] Gilbert31 (the music to which was written, untypically,
not by [Arthur] Sullivan32 but by [James Sidney] Jones). It was widely
popular but perhaps nowhere as much as in the gymnasium I attended. We
used to nickname our brusque and seemingly strict though actually
good-natured principal “Chinaman”. The poor devil was as bald as a coot
and had a droopy black mustache. No wonder then that after the visit of
the provincial theatre of [Julian] Myszkowski, the schoolboys of Przemyśl
would hum to themselves:
Chin, chin, Chinaman
Muchee, muchee sad …
What added to the attraction of the song, apart from the shameful association
with the principal, was also a nice tune and funny words”.33
Those memoirs, written as if on the margin of the author’s main argument, which
referred not to the school but the problems of the Lviv operetta in the second half
of the 1930s, and published in a local daily, draw our attention to another type of
ego document. The manifestations of musical life, even if marginal in the lives of
particular students, were significant enough to return years later into their minds,
and in various circumstances, too. Tarnawski, like many university professors in
interwar Poland writing a lot for the local press, is an example of publishing memoirs
in daily newspapers. These, however, are hardly ever used in general research
practice. Yet they present extremely interesting material, even with regard to musical
life in Galician high schools.34 The English scholar from Lviv indicated the
31 Tarnawski has made a mistake here. The libretto for The Geisha was written by James Davis,
who was known by his stage name Owen Hall.
32 A reference to the famous artistic duet, i.e. author of librettos William Schwenck Gilbert
and composer Arthur Sullivan, who authored numerous popular operettas together in the
years 1871–1896.
33 “Kiedyś około r. 1900, bardzo popularną i w Polsce była operetka [Williama Schwenka]
Gilberta (do którego wyjątkowo napisał był muzykę nie [Arthur] Sullivan, ale [James
Sidney] Jones). Była popularna szeroko, lecz może nigdzie tak jak w gimnazjum, do którego
chodziłem. Przezywaliśmy bowiem naszego opryskliwego i pozornie srogiego, a w gruncie
rzeczy poczciwego dyrektora – Chińczykiem. Miał biedaczysko głowę łysą, jak kolano, i
obwisłe, czarne wąsy. Cóż dziwnego, że po bytności prowincjonalnego teatru [Juliana]
Myszkowskiego, przemyska młodzież w mundurkach podśpiewywała sobie ustawicznie:
Chińczyk goli łeb/ Z tyłu warkocz ma … Zresztą poza niegodziwą asocjacją z osobą pedagoga
działał i miła melodia i słowa dowcipne”. Władysław Tarnawski, Z dziejów operetki,
in: Kurier Poznański, no. 604, 31 December 1936, p. 6.
34 Tomasz Pudłocki, Dzienniki i tygodniki jako źródło badań nad oświatą. W poszukiwaniu
alternatywnych spojrzeń na szkolnictwo średnie Galicji w dobie autonomii, in: Addenda do
154

humorous aspect typical of a local community – young people used the tune and
lyrics from a popular operetta in an irreverent way in order to mock their superior
behind his back. The joke became a pretext for even unmusical students to become
familiar with popular musical favorites.
CONCLUSION
After analyzing ego documents related to the history of high schools in Galicia,
particularly music life in different schools, it is worth noting a few principles.
Although they are an excellent source allowing us to get to know many aspects
(names, dates, circumstances, elements typical of the era or specific to given communities),
they should not be explored on their own but need to be confronted
with other historical sources. Why? A majority of them were written ex post, from
the perspective of a few decades after graduation, and often simply commissioned
on the occasion of a school jubilee. The processes of evoking memories are then an
important criterion for creating sources and influence what is recalled and recorded
in writing. The specific circumstances of writing down memories often tell us more
about the values a given author wanted to emphasize (in a way commemorating
them for posterity, stressing the differences between the time of writing and the
actual events described) than about how reality had actually been experienced.
Ego documents usually depict the school years as a golden time when everything
was better, and even provincial Galician towns appear to have been harmonious
communities for whom the high schools and whatever happened in them had an
enormous significance. I believe the impact of the political upheavals with World
War I and beyond are central to the glorification of the past and the youth in these
sources. Hence the choir performances during the school masses or occasional
concerts of school orchestras would assume the proportions of important events. It
might also partly have been due to provincial boredom and the lack of big-city
entertainment, rather than the quality of the performed pieces.
It is worth remembering that it is extremely rare for genuinely outstanding
graduates, in our case musicians who gained international renown, to write memoirs.
As a rule, the ones who wrote them were middle class, trying years later to
give some deeper sense to their lives and attempting to prove through such texts
that they used to witness important events in their youth, confirming the exceptional
nature of their community. Aware of the passing time and changing realities,
they felt obliged to preserve the world long since gone. And, as most witnesses
dziejów oświaty. Z badań nad prasą XIX i początków XX wieku, ed. by Iwonna Michalska –
Grzegorz Michalski. Łódź 2013, pp. 57–63.
155

to the events in question were dead, the authors had no fear someone could challenge
their veracity. Memoirs written with the purpose of being published are often
more general, as if “polished”, where the author – knowing how the stories ended –
either excuses his attitude or strikes the pose of an objective and uncritical observer.
What appears to be more illuminating are the memoirs deposited in the archives
to be made available only after the death of their authors. They are much more
accurate, showing a less romanticized image of the past. Obviously, ego documents
written on an ongoing basis, like diaries or letters from the time of school education
have been preserved in a much smaller number and are pretty rare compared
with printed memoirs. They render the emotional states of the authors, showing
the dynamics of events as if from the inside – without the author knowing the
subsequent result of what was of interest to him. Thanks to that, we have information
which from a later perspective often turns out to be of minor importance,
even though it seemed major at the time. Regardless of the circumstances of creating
the sources, when analyzing them, it is recommended to consider the biography
of their authors and the intention behind writing the accounts; then the researcher –
being fully aware of the subjectivity of the narration – will have a chance to
discover an extremely interesting world and get to know its unique nature.
156

Jana Laslavíková (Bratislava)
CONDUCTING AT THE MUNICIPAL THEATRE
I N PR E S S B U RG
Bruno Walter Reports to his Family
Bruno Walter (1876–1962) was one of the best-known conductors of the twentieth
century, whose career in Europe and in the USA was characterized by many decades
of success in concert halls, opera houses, and recording studios. Early on, he became
a close friend and protégé of the composer and conductor Gustav Mahler and the
conducting career of young Walter evolved under his patronage. It is no wonder
that, in the last years of the nineteenth century, when Gustav Mahler was active in
the Viennese Opera, Bruno Walter chose to apply for a position as First Kapellmeister
(conductor) of the Municipal Theatre of Pressburg (“Stadttheater” in
German, “Városi Színház” in Hungarian), which lay only a few dozens of kilometres
from Vienna. The direct train connection enabled Walter to frequently
attend performances in Vienna and, first and foremost, to be near his esteemed
master. Walter recalled his impressions during his few months’ stay in Pressburg
(since 1919: Bratislava) in his autobiography1 and in his monograph on Mahler,2 in
which he made unflattering remarks about the situation in the Municipal Theatre.
Together with the published collection of his letters,3 these are the sources in which
Walter surveys his entire career. Pressburg was the link in a long series of steps, and
at the end of his life this station did not seem particularly important to him:
I had no illusions about the artistic means of the small theatre, about singers,
orchestra, choir, decorations, etc., but I was determined to raise all
those with whom I had to work to their highest achievements and to force
them to do so – my performances were to become, at least in spirit, acts of
art; in this way I wanted to make up for the moral defeat I suffered in
Wrocław and which weighed heavily on my conscience, for I had been
living in anger against myself since that time and longed to regain the
self-respect necessary for my future activity.4
1 Bruno Walter, Thema und Variationen. Erinnerungen und Gedanken. Stockholm 1947,
p. 156.
2 Bruno Walter, Gustav Mahler. Ein Porträt von Bruno Walter. Berlin–Frankfurt am Main
1957, p. 33–34.
3 Bruno Walter, Briefe 1894 – 1962, ed. by Lotte Walter Lindt. Frankfurt am Main 1969,
pp. 272–274.
4 “Ich machte mir keine Illusionen über die künstlerischen Mittel des kleinen Theaters, über
Sänger, Orchester, Chor, Dekorationen, usw., aber ich war entschlossen, alle, mit denen ich
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Walter’s recollections of his stay in Pressburg are supplemented by the copies of
seventeen letters and three correspondence cards which have not yet been published.
Here we see his enthusiasm about the support of the theatre director and
the openness and willingness of the artistic staff in rehearsing the repertoire. These
interesting ego documents thus give us a different view of Bruno Walter’s impressions
of the Pressburg Municipal Theatre. At the same time, for the young conductor,
these family letters were a means of maintaining a relationship with his family
and cultivating an emotional closeness to them. Logically, the content is based on
the interests of the addressees, who ask about the everyday life of the young son.
The letters have not been analysed to date, so this is the first study of these documents.
BRUNO WALTER’S LETTERS FROM PRESSBURG:
PROVENANCE AND CONTEXT
The unpublished letters of Walter’s were addressed to his family living in Berlin
during the years 1897 and 1898. The copies of this letters consist of loose A4 sheets;
the text is typed on typewriter paper. These historical documents which fulfil the
role of a medium of cultural memory5 are deposited among the collections of the
Music Museum of the Slovak National Museum in Bratislava and in the personal
collection of the Slovak music critic Ivan Ballo (1909–1977).6 They represent only
a small fragment of the large volume of Walter’s extant correspondence,7 but are
nevertheless essential for the clarification of late nineteenth-century musical practice
in Pressburg. Until now, the only contemporaneous sources covering Walter’s
activities in the Pressburg theatre were the reviews in the local dailies. These are
the sources Gabriel Dušinský (1921–1985) drew on,8 when he gave an overview of
zu arbeiten hatte, zu ihren höchsten Leistungen zu steigern und wenn es sein musste, zu
zwingen – meine Aufführungen sollten, wenigstens dem Geiste nach, Kunsttaten werden;
so wollte ich die moralische Schlappe die ich in Breslau erlitten und die schwer auch meinem
Gewissen lastete, gut machen, denn ich lebte seit jener Zeit in Zorn gegen mich und
sehnte mich danach, die für meine künftige Tätigkeit notwendige Selbstachtung wieder zu
gewinnen.” B. Walter, see note 1, p. 157. English Translation by Monika Dorna.
5 See Gesa Finke, Die Komponistenwitwe Constanze Mozart. Musik bewahren und Erinnerung
gestalten. Köln 2013, p. 28. See also Melanie Unseld, Biographie und Musikgeschichte: Wandlungen
biographischer Konzepte in Musikkultur und Musikhistoriographie. Köln 2014.
6 Bratislava, Music Museum of the Slovak National Museum (SNM – HuM), Ivan Ballo
Collection (IB Collection), MUS CXXIII, Box No. 2, pp. 408–427.
7 B. Walter, Briefe, see note 3, p. 1.
8 Gabriel Dušinský, a native of Bratislava, was a chemist and he authored specialized articles
in the field of pharmacy and pharmacology. He dealt with music as an amateur. Thanks to
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Walter’s activities in Pressburg in his article Bruno Walter v Bratislave 1897–1898
(“Bruno Walter in Bratislava 1897–1898”).9 As he noted, he also consulted the recollections
of Ivan Ballo’s family,10 but he was evidently unaware of Walter’s family
letters.
The newly discovered correspondence details Walter’s activities in the Pressburg
theatre, contains references also to the theatre in Timișoara (German: Temeswar,
Hungarian: Temesvár; today in Romania), and briefly describes his return journey
to Berlin, interrupted with a stop in Vienna and a short stay in Northern Italy. In
his letters, the young conductor enthusiastically describes his successes in conducting
operas and, despite the enormous amount of work, he views the Hungarian
provinces through the lens of a grateful musician who receives the applause he
desires. According to Lotte Walter Lindt (1903–1970), Bruno Walter’s daughter, the
family letters were addressed to the whole family, i.e. to his father Josef Schlesinger
(1844–1930), mother Johanne Schlesinger, née Fernbach (1843–1929), his sister
Emma (1878–1949), brother Leo (1873–1952), and uncle Emanuel Fernbach (died in
1922). In his letters, Walter would regularly send greetings also to the “Fliessen
family”, by which he meant his two elder cousins Hedwig and Line Fliess.11
The current state of research has not provided any further information about
the originals of these Pressburg letters. Lotte Walter Lindt stated that most of the
existing family correspondence was saved by Walter’s brother Leo when he emigrated
to Sweden during World War II.12 That was the time when the letters
Walter’s daughter included in her selection of the conductor’s letters were written.
An analysis of the published material reveals that Walter Lindt had access to letters
from 1897 when Walter was active in Breslau (Wrocław) and, subsequently, from
the years 1898 to 1900, when he was working in Riga. She either had no access to
his letters from Pressburg or just did not include them in her book. At the same
time, the most voluminous source material about the life and activities of Bruno
Walter consists of his literary estate, deposited under the title “The Bruno Walter
Papers” in the Music Division of the New York Public Library.13 The latter
his personal interest in the musical history of the town and his systematic research in
archives and libraries, he wrote texts about several prominent musical figures of eighteenthand
nineteenth-century Pressburg, including Bruno Walter, which are still cited today.
9 Gabriel Dušinský, Bruno Walter v Bratislave 1897–1898, in: Slovenská hudba 11/3 (1967)
pp. 113–118.
10 Ibidem, p. 117.
11 B. Walter, Briefe, see note 3, p. 390.
12 Ibidem, p. 1.
13 The Bruno Walter Papers, JPB 92-4, Music Division, The New York Public Library, Astor,
Lenox, and Tilden Foundations. The collection contains correspondence (primarily from
after his emigration to the United States in 1941) as well as photographs, some books and
music, and memorabilia. The bulk of the collection dates from 1938–1962. Formerly in the
159

collection, most of which was originally owned by Walter Lindt, also contains
Walter’s correspondence from the turn of the nineteenth century, but no letters
from Pressburg. Surprisingly, the collection does not contain any letters from
Wrocław or Riga either, although Walter’s daughter must have had access to these,
as she included them in her selection. Current findings do not explain the reasons
for this fact. Therefore, the existence of the originals of his Pressburg letters can be
neither confirmed nor rejected to date.
The library of the University of Music and Performing Arts Vienna keeps part
of Bruno Walter’s estate.14 Bruno Walter’s Viennese estate comprises for the most
part the annotated music editions with which he worked (scores, study scores, orchestral
material). Other documents include the manuscripts of his books and
lectures. There is only one piece of correspondence from his early years, namely a
telegram from Riga to his family in which he reports on his new position at the
Berlin Court Opera. Otherwise there is no family correspondence that could serve
as comparative material for the Pressburg letters.
THE ROUTE OF WALTER’S PRESSBURG LETTERS
INTO IVAN BALLO’S ESTATE
Just like we cannot confirm with certainty whether the copies of Walter’s letters are
his only extant correspondence from Pressburg, we cannot describe exactly how
they made their way into Ivan Ballo’s literary estate. Ballo corresponded with
Bruno Walter (and his wife Elsa) between 1936 and 1939, after they had met in
person a year before their written correspondence began. What was presumably
their first meeting took place on 29 August 1935 during the Salzburg Festival. In
their personal interview, which Ballo took notes on, he first asked about Walter’s
activities in Pressburg.15 In his own words, Walter had a pleasant memory of the
town, on the one hand because that was where he led an orchestra for the first time
and, on the other hand, because of its proximity to Vienna, which he would often
possession of Lotte Walter Lindt, Walter’s daughter. Upon her death, the papers were held
by the Bruno Walter Foundation. The Foundation donated the Bruno Walter Papers to the
New York Public Library in 1978.
14 See Susanne Eschwé, Der Bruno-Walter-Nachlaß in der Bibliothek der Hochschule für Musik
und darstellende Kunst in Wien: ein Beitrag zur Frage der Nachlaßbearbeitung in wissenschaftlichen
Bibliotheken, Wien 1985. About the Vienna estate see also Susanne Eschwé – Michael
Staudinger (eds.), Bruno Walter. Der Wiener Nachlass. Wien 2001; Susanne Eschwé, Der
Bruno Walter Nachlass. Ein Blick auf den „Wiener Nachlass“ als Hommage zum 50. Todestag,
in: Bruno Walter erinnern, ed. by Michael Staudinger. Wien 2013, pp. 75–84.
15 SNM – HuM, IB Collection, MUS CXXIII, Box No. 2, p. 451.
160

visit. Except for Bohumír Brzobohatý, he could no longer recall any orchestra
members.16
In the summer of 1936, Ballo attended the festival in Salzburg again and
invited Walter to Bratislava. Subsequently, he visited Vienna in the autumn of that
year and repeated his invitation to him. After Walter’s initial rejection due to his
workload, he ultimately agreed to conduct one concert with the Vienna Philharmonic
on 13 December 1936 in the Municipal Theatre, which had been the seat of
the Slovak National Theatre from 1920.
Ballo’s letters are characterised by his great admiration and deep respect for
this world-renowned conductor. Part of the correspondence can be found within
the above-cited personal collection of Ballo, deposited in the Music Museum of
the Slovak National Museum.17 Besides Walter’s Pressburg letters, it contains two
recommendations issued by Walter for two members of the Pressburg orchestra.
The collection also contains a résumé of the conversation Ballo had with Walter in
Salzburg in the summer of 1935. It was after this conversation that Ballo undertook
to look up all the available sources about Walter’s activities at Pressburg and he
reconstructed Walter’s programme plan in the Municipal Theatre by retrieving the
articles in the contemporaneous press.18 Last, there are Ballo’s typewritten letters
addressed to Walter to organize his visit in Bratislava in 1936 and subsequently in
1937.
As for the written documents connected to his activities in Pressburg, in a
letter of 2 October 1937, Walter literally wrote to Ballo that “unfortunately, I have
no documents, notes, or memoirs of my activities in Pressburg, though I would be
happy to provide them.”19 Consequently, Ballo must have acquired the letters only
after 1937, which is ultimately confirmed also by an article of Gabriel Dušinský,
where he mentions that Ballo and Walter searched for Walter’s house together after
a concert in December 1936.20 Had Ballo (and Walter) had the letters at that time,
they would have known the exact address, as Walter had stated it in his letter to his
parents. Walter probably found, or gained back from his family, his Pressburg letters
sometime after 1937 and gave them to Ballo to copy. According to current
understanding, the letters were copied by Ballo himself. There are notes in Slovak,
16 Ibidem.
17 The small collection of letters, which forms part of Ballo’s personal collection, can be found
in the Literary Archive of the Slovak National Library in Martin. See Slovak National
Archive – Literary Archive, Personal Collection of Ivan Ballo, shelfmark A XCVIII.
18 SNM – HuM, IB Collection, MUS CXXIII, Box No. 2, p. 441.
19 “Leider habe ich keinerlei Dokumente, Aufzeichnungen, oder Erinnerungen aus meiner
Pressburger Zeit, so gerne ich Ihnen damit dienen würde.” Slovak National Archive –
Literary Archive, Personal Collection of Ivan Ballo, shelfmark XCVIII/75d.
20 G. Dušinský, Bruno Walter v Bratislave 1897–1898, see note 9, p. 117.
161

Plate 1: Letter from Bruno Walter to Ivan Ballo, signed and dated 2 October 1937, typescript.
Slovak National Archive – Literary Archive, Personal Collection of Ivan Ballo,
shelfmark A XCVIII_75d.
162

commenting on Walter’s drawings and notes on the margins of the original letters,
written in Ballo’s hand.
THE MUNICIPAL THEATRE IN PRESSBURG
BEFORE THE ARRIVAL OF BRUNO WALTER
The Municipal Theatre was the centre of the social life in Pressburg. The first theatre
building was built in 1776 by Count Juraj Csáky de Körösszegh et Adorján IV
(1730–1788) who owned it until 1800, when it became the property of the town.21
After more than a hundred years of its existence, in 1884, the town demolished the
significantly dilapidated building and erected a new theatre roughly at the same
place. The 1886 ceremonial opening of this new theatre, designed by the architects
Ferdinand Fellner Jr. (1847–1916) and Hermann Helmer (1849–1919), abounded in
symbolism. For the German-speaking population, it evoked a return of the glorious
times of Pressburg, the former coronation town and capital of Hungary. The
long influence of German arts and the close contact with the Viennese metropolis
had a major impact on the cultural identity of the German-speaking Pressburgers.
The pro-Hungarian elite circles of Pressburg, however, were increasingly raising
their voices in support of an orientation towards Budapest. The new theatre was to
symbolize new times, modern and pro-Hungarian ones, and contribute to the dissemination
of the Hungarian language and Hungarian culture in this (originally)
German-speaking town.22 The ceremonial opening on 22 September 1886 was attended
by Prime Minister Kálmán Tisza (1830–1902), along with several ministers
and members of the Hungarian Parliament. The programme consisted exclusively
of Hungarian works, including the leading Hungarian opera Bánk bán by Ferenc
Erkel, and the performers were members of the Hungarian Royal Opera and the
National Theatre in Budapest.
21 On the latest research on theatrical life in eighteenth-century Pressburg, see Jana
Laslavíková, Od Streleckej priekopy k prvej kamennej divadelnej budove. Divadelný život v
Bratislave v 18. storočí a jeho vývoj do prvej polovice 19. storočia [From Shooters’ Moat to the
First Stone Theatre Building. Theatre Life in Bratislava in the 18th Century and its
Development into the First Half of the 19th Century], in: Documenta Pragensia XL: Město
se baví – od středověku do roku 1848, ed. by Olga Fejtová – Martina Maříková – Jiří Pešek.
Praha 2021, pp. 123–155.
22 See Jana Laslavíková, “Done! The Splendid Work, the New Ornament of Our Beautiful,
Ancient Coronation City is Completed!” Identity Construction of the Urban Elite Illustrated on
the Example of the Municipal Theatre in Pressburg, in: Historický časopis 68/2 (2020) pp. 947–
975.
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Nevertheless, the supporters of Hungarian theatre in the town could not ignore
the fact that the regular theatregoers consisted of the German-speaking townspeople.
So, when the new theatre was opened, the municipal council decided to divide
the season into two parts. The first part belonged to German theatre and lasted
from early October to late January. It was led by a German-speaking theatre director
who had his own ensemble. The second part of the season belonged to Hungarian
theatre and was headed by a Hungarian director with his ensemble, who had
the theatre building at their disposal from early February to late April.23 A look at
this division suggests that no serious director would have striven to lead the Pressburg
theatre if he could do so only for three to four months. Thus, Pressburg entered
into an agreement with the town of Timișoara, which owned a theatre of
roughly the same capacity and with a similar audience composition, to alternate
the directors.24 The agreement lasted for thirteen years, from 1886 to 1899, and
provided a half-year season to the German-speaking and the Hungarian-speaking
director and their ensembles alternately. In summer, the directors could use the
summer arenas in both towns, but they did not make much use of them because
they mostly left for popular summer destinations where they could earn more.25
The first German-speaking director active both in Pressburg and Timișoara
was Max (Maximilian) Kmentt (1852–1921).26 He alternated with the Hungarian
director Károly Mosonyi (Jakab Mannsberger is his real name, 1832–1911) and subsequently
with Ignácz Krecsányi (1844–1923). Kmentt’s ensemble consisted mostly
of actors and opera singers. Their performances did not match up to the standard
demanded by music critics, since unlike spoken theatre, opera had a long tradition
in Pressburg. The daily programme plan consisted of comedies and operettas.
Kmentt staged older operas exclusively with guest soloists. The theatre had the
reputation of a relatively good provincial theatre, but, in the eyes of local patriots,
23 On day-to-day theatre operations in Pressburg at the close of the nineteenth century, and
on the influence of the division of the season on the further course of the theatre, see Jana
Laslavíková, The High Province on the Western Border of Hungary: Ideological Aspects of the
Operations of the Municipal Theatre in Pressburg in the Late Nineteenth Century, in: TheMA:
Open Access Research Journal for Theatre, Music, Arts 8/1–2 (2019) pp. 1–18.
24 On the composition of the population in multi-ethnic Timișoara in the late nineteenth
century, see Josef Geml, Alt-Temesvar im letzten Halbjahrhundert 1870 – 1920. Temesvar
1927, p. 128.
25 Ibidem, p. 242.
26 On Max Kmentt, see Jana Laslavíková, Prvé roky fungovania Mestského divadla v Prešporku
a pôsobenie nemeckého divadelného riaditeľa Maxa Kmentta [The First Years of the Municipal
Theater in Pressburg and the Work of the German Theater Director Max Kmentt], in:
Musicologica Olomucensia 25 (2017), pp. 115–131. I owe thanks for providing a previously
unknown piece of information regarding the date of birth and death of Max Kmentt to
Ingomar Kmentt.
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it was to become an abode of the muse Thalia in this “second” Hungarian town,
i.e. in the second most important town of Hungary after Budapest. Therefore,
criticism of Kmentt and his “commercial spirit”, which led him to stage popular
(profitable) entertaining shows at the expense of artistic quality and, consequently,
costlier operas, began to appear increasingly in the press.27
The situation in the theatre changed with the arrival of the German-speaking
director Emanuel Raul (Emanuel Friedmann is his real name, 1843–1916) who, in
collaboration with the municipal archivist of Pressburg and music critic Johann
Nepomuk Batka (1845–1917), managed to provide regular opera productions with
the members of his own ensemble at a good artistic standard. This is confirmed by
the fact that, during the years of his activities in Pressburg (1890–1899), Raul
staged sixteen opera premières, including significant novelties, such as Cavalleria
rusticana (by Pietro Mascagni), Pagliacci (by Ruggero Leoncavallo), or The Bartered
Bride (by Bedřich Smetana), and regularly staged popular Italian and French
operas. Several artists who later became famous had worked in his ensemble, including
Arthur Guttmann, Gustav Maran, Rudolf Rittner, Rudolf Schildkraut,
and the young conductor Bruno Walter.
A CLOSER LOOK AT THE CIRCUMSTANCES SURROUNDING
BRUNO WALTER’S ARRIVAL IN PRESSBURG
In Walter’s life, the 1897/1898 season in Pressburg was very important, as he gained
the post of First Kapellmeister for the first time.28 This post had been offered to
him by the director Emanuel Raul, who arrived in Pressburg in the autumn of 1897
to handle the German season in the Municipal Theatre for the eighth time.29
Walter’s previous station was the theatre in Breslau, where he was employed as the
Second Kapellmeister. In his own words, the director in Breslau, Theodor Löwe
27 Kmentt’s main critic was Johann Nepomuk Batka, who was the music reporter of the Preßburger
Zeitung daily and a member of the Theatre Committee, the advisory body of the
Municipal Council. For further details, see Jana Magdaléna Májeková, Prví virilisti a poslanci
Prešporka: municipiálny výbor po reforme samosprávy v roku 1870 [The First Virilists and
the Elected Members of Pressburg Municipal Council after the Administration Reform of
1870], in: V supermarkete dejín. Podoby moderných dejín a spoločnosti v stredoeurópskom priestore,
ed. by Gabriela Dudeková Kováčová et al., Bratislava 2021, pp. 411–431.
28 The sources of the period use two phrases to denote the musical profession Walter held in
Pressburg.
29 On Emanuel Raul, see Jana Laslavíková, Mestské divadlo v Prešporku (1886-1899) v kontexte
dobovej divadelnej praxe. Pôsobenie riaditeľov Maxa Kmentta a Emanuela Raula [The Municipal
Theatre in Pressburg and its Theatrical Practice Between 1886-1899. The Work of the
Directors Max Kmentt and Emanuel Raul]. Bratislava 2018.
165

(1855–1935), did not appreciate his talents and did not give him scope for showing
his skills.30 He repeatedly asked him in vain to let him conduct important operas.
Either this task was fulfilled by the First Kapellmeister, or the programme plan
consisted of comedies and operettas, which did not suit Walter.31 Also, he was in
financial distress. This was all the more frustrating for Walter as he had arrived in
Breslau from Hamburg, one of the leading centres of music and theatre. That is
where he had first met Gustav Mahler and worked by his side for two years as an
accompanist and Kapellmeister, and ultimately as a conductor.32 Under Mahler,
the theatre in Hamburg was way ahead of the Breslau reality, which made Walter
terminate his contract after six months.33 During his stay in Wrocław, Walter repeatedly
complained to Mahler about the adverse conditions in the theatre and
declared his intention to leave the place, although he had nowhere else to go.
Mahler offered financial help, but Walter did not have to accept it, since he finally
gained a post in Pressburg.34 In the spring of 1897, he managed to secure a one-year
contract with the director of the Pressburg theatre, Raul. At the same time, he received
an offer from the theatre in Riga, which he accepted after his engagement
in Pressburg. In this way, Walter could avoid military service and, as he wrote to
his brother Leo in the late summer of 1897, he could enthusiastically continue the
conducting career he had begun.35
Being near to Gustav Mahler, who became director of the Viennese Opera in
autumn 1897, was a central purpose of Walter’s new post in Pressburg. Ever since
their first meeting in Hamburg, which was “providential” according to Walter,36
he was a staunch, sometimes even uncritical, admirer of Mahler. In return, Mahler
found a soulmate in Walter, and immediately recognized and supported his great
musical talents. Mahler closely followed Walter’s career and Walter kept him updated
about his professional decisions. Director Raul not only planned to stage
operas regularly, but he recognized Walter’s great talent and increased opera productions
in that season, including two modern novelties: Leoncavallo’s La bohème
and Bizet’s Djamileh (both operas were performed at the Court Opera under
30 B. Walter, Briefe, see note 3, p. 23. Walter described a similar situation in the theatre in
Cologne, where he was working as an accompanist and could show his conducting skills in
the opera Waffenschmied by Albert Lortzing when its conductor fell suddenly ill. He received
no recognition by the management, however, and he wrote about this to his parents
angrily. See ibidem, p. 11.
31 B. Walter, Thema und Variationen, see note 1, p. 144.
32 For more see: Henry-Louis de La Grange, Gustav Mahler: Chronique d’une vie 1. Vers la
gloire (1860–1900). Paris 1983.
33 B. Walter, Briefe, see note 3, p. 24.
34 B. Walter, Gustav Mahler, see note 2, p. 33.
35 Ibidem, p. 26.
36 B. Walter, Thema und Variationen, see note 1, p. 119.
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Mahler). Both Raul and Walter were much appreciated, the theatre was always sold
out, and the local critics, first and foremost Johann Nepomuk Batka, were predicting
a successful career for Walter.37 He no longer had to fight against a “dull
world” that had been suffocating him in Breslau. Quite the contrary, doors were
opening for him in Pressburg.
After his arrival in the town in September 1897, Walter took accommodation
in a house in Konventstraße with the Scherf family, the landlord being an official
and his wife a skilful housewife.38 Walter’s first impressions of Pressburg were
positive. Shortly after his arrival, he wrote to his parents about the very low prices
of accommodation and food, by which he was pleasantly surprised.39 On the first
days of his stay, when Director Raul had not been in Pressburg yet and Walter had
enough free time, he managed to go on several walks.
He was positively surprised by the cultural milieu of Pressburg, all the more so
as he had not had high expectations of the artistic standard of its provincial theatre.
Above all, he tried to rectify his bad impressions from Breslau and “regain his
self-esteem” through well-rehearsed works.40 On his way from Vienna, where he
had stopped before his arrival in Pressburg, he decided to write a diary (which he
later destroyed) as a means of “purification from superficialities, comfort, and
other human weaknesses”,41 which had led him to lower his artistic standard in
Breslau. In his letters, he repeatedly stated that in Pressburg, he finally became
37 J. B. [Johann Batka], Theater. Die lustigen Weiber, in: Preßburger Zeitung, No. 294,
23 October 1897, p. 5.
38 SNM – HuM, IB Collection, MUS CXXIII, Box Nr. 2, pag. 413. In Walter’s letter written
to his parents on 27 September 1897, this piece of information deviates from the one stated
by Gabriel Dušinský in his article on him. Dušinský says that, after a concert in Bratislava
in 1936, Ivan Ballo with Bruno Walter tried to find the house where Walter had stayed during
his post in Pressburg in 1897/1898. The house was to stand on Hviezdoslav Square, near
the Municipal Theatre. According to Ballo, Walter could not recall how the house looked.
See G. Dušinský, Bruno Walter v Bratislave, see note 9, p. 117. The address sent by Walter to
his parents where they were to send him his books and music was situated in Konventstraße,
about a fifteen-minute walk from the theatre. The house was owned by the Lutheran
convent. The official Scherf was apparently the landlord and Walter was his tenant. This
house no longer exists today. For the identification of the address, I owe thanks to Ján
Vyhnánek.
39 He paid nine guilders for accommodation and 2.50 guilders for breakfast monthly. His
lunch cost 0.35 guilders a day (0.45 guilders along with beer) and dinner in a pub cost
between half a guilder and one guilder. His income was ninety-two guilders monthly and
he estimated his total expenses in Pressburg to be eighty guilders monthly, so he calculated
that he should be left with twelve guilders. See SNM – HuM, IB Collection, MUS CXXIII,
Box No. 2, p. 409.
40 B. Walter, Thema und Variationen, see note 1, p. 157.
41 Ibidem, p. 158.
167

who he wanted to be. As he wrote: “My position is fabulous, now I not only have
the whole theatre staff for myself, but also the audience and the press. […] But
I will tell you this: here I am completely another person than I had been till now.
I can achieve what I want. And this enthusiasm in all people gives me such joy!”42
However, after discovering the pitfalls of the daily operations of the Pressburg
theatre, and being loaded with work, his initial optimism vanished. He viewed the
possibilities in the Pressburg theatre with reservation and scepticism and, in his
letter of 17 December 1897, he says: “I am very much looking forward to the engagement
in Riga, to be the first man at such a large and distinguished theatre is
so splendid; not because of the exterior of this position, but because I have the
power I need to carry through my ideas. I have that power here too, but not the
material.”43
As the new director of the Viennese Opera Mahler was busy and exhausted;
Walter was extremely upset about consequently not being able to take his intended
trips to Vienna as regularly as he had envisaged. In his letter of 18 October 1897, he
complained to his parents that, although he had gone to the Mahlers, only Mahler’s
sister Emma had been at home.44 Bruno thought Mahler was working too hard
and, at the same time, due to his character, faced frequent opposition and intrigues
against his person, which sapped him of energy.45 This made Walter enjoy every
single moment spent in Mahler’s presence all the more. Moreover, he deeply wished
to have Mahler attend one of his performances in Pressburg.46
42 “Meine Stellung ist famos, jetzt habe ich nicht nur das ganze Theater-Personal für mich,
sondern auch Publikum und Presse. […] Aber das sage ich Euch: hier bin ich ein ganz
anderer Kerl, als ich bisher war. Jetzt kann ich wirklich das, was ich will. Und diese Begeisterung
bei allen Menschen macht mir ja solche Freude!” SNM – HuM, IB Collection,
MUS CXXIII, Box No. 2, p. 415.
43 “Auf das Engagement in Riga freue mich sehr, schon an einem so grossen und vornehmen
Theater der erste Mann zu sein, ist ja so prachtvoll; nicht etwa des Äusseren dieser Stellung
wegen, sondern weil ich die Macht habe, die ich brauche um meine Ideen durchzuführen.
Diese Macht habe ich ja hier auch, aber nicht das Material.” Ibidem, p. 420.
44 Ibidem, p. 415.
45 B. Walter, Gustav Mahler, see note 2, p. 37.
46 Mahler’s visits to Pressburg are mentioned also by Gabriel Dušinský in his article, referring
to an article of Ivan Ballo in the Slovenský deník daily. See Ivan Ballo, Prešporská opera za
časov Bruna Waltera [Opera in Pressburg in the Times of Bruno Walter], in: Slovenský
deník, No. 285, 12 December 1936, p. 5. In his letters and memoirs, Walter does not mention
any specific details of Mahler’s visits in Pressburg. The only reference to them is a piece of
information in his letter of 17 December 1897 about a novelty, Leoncavallo’s opera La
bohème, which was then being rehearsed. Walter wrote to his parents about “[…] ein ganz
famoses Werk, zu dessen Aufführung Mahler vielleicht herüberkommt.” [a very splendid
work, which Mahler might come to see for the performance.] See SNM – HuM, Fond IB,
MUS CXXIII, Box No. 2, p. 420. On that day, Gustav Mahler did not conduct any perfor-
168

Walter’s letters and memoirs reveal that he was very strict and critical with himself,
and he found mental relief on his days spent in Vienna, where he gained new artistic
impulses each time, or by reading classical literature. He recalls his time spent in
Pressburg as a great test to harden his character to become able to stand up against
all those whom he had perceived in the past to have dominated him unjustly.47 This
he managed to achieve partly thanks to the fact that he gained the support of the
soloists, the choir singers, and the orchestra members, who were willing to meet his
demands. In his last letter sent before his departure for Timișoara, he concluded
that he could “look back on my time in Pressburg with satisfaction.”48
MUSICAL PRACTICE IN THE MUNICIPAL THEATRE
IN PRESSBURG AT THE END OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY
The theatre director Emanuel Raul employed Bruno Walter as the First Kapellmeister,
to head an orchestra made up of the members of the Church Music Association
of Saint Martin’s Cathedral and of other musicians active in the town.49
For reasons unknown, the number of members of the theatre orchestra decreased
during the 1897/1898 season and Walter was forced to adapt the orchestral parts to
fill the gaps left by the missing instruments, which would often make him feel
frustrated.50 The orchestra was headed by Carl Sommer who, as Walter said,
backed his musical ideas.51 Walter’s task was to rehearse older operas, which were
then performed twice or thrice a week. He conducted exclusively operas. Operettas
and dramas with music were entrusted to the Second Kapellmeister, Gottfried
Baldreich (later known by his Czech name as Bohumír Brzobohatý, 1869–1949),
whom Walter later remembered as an excellent Czech musician, willing to work
with soloists and the orchestra in line with his ideas.52
mance in Vienna, which makes his visit to Pressburg possible, provided that he had attended
the performance incognito. In the opposite case, the local press would have written about
it, as it would immediately detect every important guest from Vienna. This did not happen,
the local dailies did not mention Mahler’s presence at all, despite devoting major attention
to this première.
47 B. Walter, Thema und Variationen, see note 1, p. 158.
48 “[…] und kann überhaupt mit Zufriedenheit auf meine Pressburger Zeit zurückblicken.”
SNM – HuM, IB Collection, MUS CXXIII, Box No. 2, p. 422.
49 On the orchestra of the theatre, see Jana Laslavíková, Mestské divadlo v Prešporku na sklonku
19. storočia. Medzi provinciou a metropolou [The Municipal Theatre in Pressburg at the Close
of the 19th Century. Between Province and Metropolis]. Bratislava 2020, p. 106–107.
50 See B. Walter, Thema und Variationen, see note 1, p. 165.
51 SNM – HuM, IB Collection, MUS CXXIII, Box No. 2, p. 411.
52 See B. Walter, Thema und Variationen, see note 1, p. 163–164.
169

Ivan Ballo wrote in his article from 1936 about the orchestra in the period of Walter.
Ballo made use of the personal memories of some former orchestra members, the
flautist Johann Feuer, the trombonist Josef Radler, and the violinist Jaroslav
Kulischek, who remembered their conductor.53 Johann Feuer recalled with
humour the precision with which Walter dealt with each remark of the composers.
There was little time to rehearse, and it would sometimes happen that Walter did
not manage to go through the whole opera, and they would play the last acts for
the first time during the performance. Walter’s energy in conducting could counterbalance
the insufficient number of rehearsals and he led the orchestra players to
a successful end with a firm hand.54
The first opera conducted by Walter shortly after his arrival in Pressburg was
Verdi’s Il trovatore, a classic opera season opener. A day before its performance,
Walter had written a letter to his family in great excitement and subsequently informed
them that the evening went excellently. This was Walter’s introductory
performance, in which the opera soloists of that year, Valerie Mertens, Frieda
Gossels, Don Renardi, Siegfried Kallman, Max Birkholz, and Karl Starka debuted,
too. Prominent guests of the evening included Archduke Friedrich of Austria-
Teschen with his wife Isabella Croy-Dülmen, who were residing in Pressburg at
that time. Shortly afterwards, Walter enthusiastically informed his family that
“I have an excellent position in Pressburg, my will is law here.”55
Four of the above soloists who debuted along with Walter were people he had
already known: he had met the dramatic singer Valerie Mertens and the alto Frida
Gossels when he was studying at the conservatory in Berlin, and he knew Max
Birkholz from the theatre ensemble in Berlin and the heldentenor Don Renardi
from his guest performance in the Breslau theatre.56 Soloists would come to Pressburg
from various theatres and their migration was part of the cultural transfer
taking place in the provincial theatres in the nineteenth century, since the goal
of every artist was to move from smaller and less significant theatres to bigger
53 I. Ballo, Prešporská opera za časov Bruna Waltera, see note 46, p. 5. Ballo’s estate contains the
originals of the confirmations of the players’ qualities which Bruno Walter issued to the
flautist Johann Feuer and the trombonist Josef Radler as recommendations for their further
careers at the end of the 1897/1898 season. SNM – HuM, Fond IB, MUS CXXIII, Box
No. 2, p. 406–407. Ballo mentions these confirmations in his above-cited article in Slovenský
deník; it is not known, however, how they made their way into the estate.
54 The names of these orchestra players are confirmed by the list of the members of the theatre
orchestra in 1895. See the Municipal Archive of Bratislava, Estates of Families and Personalities
of Bratislava, Johann Nepomuk Batka, Correspondence, Emanuel Raul, Box 26, Inv.
No. 5.
55 “Ich habe ja eine grossartige Stellung, mein Wille ist Gesetz hier.” SNM – HuM, IB Collection,
MUS CXXIII, Box No. 2, p. 413.
56 Ibidem, p. 410.
170

and better known ones. For this purpose, theatre agents would visit Pressburg
and, just like to other members of Raul’s ensemble, they offered another engagement
to Walter, about which he was very happy and which he wanted to make
good use of.57
Walter tried not to favour any of the soloists although, at their first meeting,
he noticed their effort to impress him because “everybody expected me to cast
them into the best roles.”58 For this reason, he did not maintain a close relationship
with the members of the ensemble and mentioned to his parents only his friendship
with the actor Max Pollandt (Max Pollatschek is his real name, 1861–1905),
who was, just like Walter, of Jewish faith. Pollandt later acted in the Viennese
Volkstheater and Raimundtheater and died of a severe illness at a young age. In
his letter of 2 November 1897, Walter describes him as a “highly talented, wellrounded,
intelligent, and very precious person.”59
During the season, Walter rehearsed with Raul’s ensemble the operas Cavalleria
rusticana (Pietro Mascagni), Pagliacci (Ruggero Leoncavallo), Martha (Friedrich
von Flotow), Die lustigen Weiber von Windsor (Otto Nicolai), Il barbiere di Siviglia
(Giacomo Rossini), Les Huguenots (Giacomo Meyerbeer), Faust (Charles Gounod),
Heimchen am Herd (Karl Goldmark), Der Evangelist (Wilhelm Kienzl), Prodaná
nevěsta (Bedřich Smetana), La Juive (Jacques Fromental Halévy), Lohengrin
(Richard Wagner), and Undine (Albert Lortzing). Walter’s family learned about
how the performances were received from the reviews he sent them and from him
quoting the reviewers directly in his letters. As can be expected, there were certain
differences in the depiction, in favor of Walter. For example, in the review of Il
trovatore, the reviewer of Preßburger Zeitung stated that “the performance was very
well rounded under the excellent direction of the Kapellmeister Br. Walter.”60
Walter reported this in his letter as “the opera went brilliantly under the excellent
direction of Herr Kapellmeister Walter.”61 Walter tried to build a positive image of
himself even beyond the borders of the monarchy. In his letter of 8 December 1897,
he wrote that the enclosed reviews would be published in the Berliner Lokal­
Anzeiger and the Dresdener Nachrichten.62
57 Ibidem.
58 “Jeder erwartet, dass ich ihm seine Lieblingspartieen zuerteile.” Ibidem.
59 “[…] der ein hochbegabter, vielseitig gebildeter, intelligenter und sehr ernster Mensch ist.”
Ibidem, p. 416.
60 “Die Vorstellung gestaltete sich unter der ausgezeichneten Leitung des Kapellmeisters
Br. Walter sehr gerundet.” Der Troubadour, in: Preßburger Zeitung, No. 276, 5 October
1897, p. 5.
61 “Die Oper ging brillant unter der ausgezeichneten Leitung des Herrn Kapellmeister
Walter.” SNM – HuM, IB Collection, MUS CXXIII, Box No. 2, p. 413.
62 SNM – HuM, IB Collection, MUS CXXIII, Box No. 2, p. 419. We have not managed to
find the above reviews in the German press.
171

There were several “young enthusiastic singers” in Raul’s ensemble63 who needed
to rehearse a lot and Walter spent some extra time with them, whether at night
after the performances or in the early morning, often arriving at the theatre by
eight o’clock.64 Otherwise he would not have achieved the desired result in the
evening shows since the number of rehearsals was minimal. By mid-October, he
had begun to feel exhausted from the hard work. “There is too much work and I
do not know when I will manage to do it. I work as a draught animal and I do not
see an end to my work.”65 Walter was hit hard by the reality of the daily operations
of provincial theatres, which had to ensure enough income to cover all their expenses.
The theatre building was owned by the town, and it rented it out for free,
but Raul had to pay all the remuneration and all the expenses of the artistic operations
from the ticket revenue. Therefore, the theatre played every single day.
The season culminated in two opera premières: the first one, Leoncavallo’s La
bohème, was played in German seven times during the season, each time to full
house. The première, which was the first performance of the opera in the entire
Habsburg Monarchy, took place on 8 January 1898. After the second première,
Johann Batka noted that Walter conducted the opera by heart and skilfully disguised
the “shortcomings” of the instrumentation (i.e. the missing instruments in
the orchestra).66
Another novelty of the season was the opera Djamileh by George Bizet, which
was premièred on 20 November 1897. In his critique, Batka compared Bizet’s work
to Tchaikovsky’s opera Eugene Onegin, which had been premièred in Vienna a day
before the Pressburg première of Djamileh.67 According to Batka, Bizet’s work was
more melodious, more exotic, attractive, and noble. One of the audience members
was the Viennese teacher and composer Josef Labor. The critic Ferencz Kováts also
wrote a positive review, describing Walter’s interpretation as that of a genius and
extremely sensitive.68 Walter had heard Bizet’s Djamileh for the first time in
Vienna, as director Raul closely followed the Viennese opera and operetta repertoire
and was interested in this novelty, as well as in the other Viennese premières.
63 See B. Walter, Thema und Variationen, see note 1, p. 163.
64 SNM – HuM, IB Collection, MUS CXXIII, Box No. 2, p. 415.
65 “Ich weiss in der That nicht, ob ich das noch lange aushalten werde; ich arbeite wie ein Lasttier
und sehe kein Ende der Arbeit ab.” Ibidem.
66 J. B. [Johann Batka], Theater. Die Boheme, in: Preßburger Zeitung, No. 9, 9 January 1898,
p. 3.
67 J. B. [Johann Batka], Theater. Djamileh, in: Preßburger Zeitung, No. 322, 21 November 1897,
p. 5.
68 [Ferencz] Kováts, Djamileh, in: Westungarischer Grenzbote, No. 8648, 22 November 1897,
p. 1–2.
172

Therefore, he would often send Walter to Vienna to get acquainted with the latest
works.69
As for the musical practice in the Municipal Franz Joseph Theatre in Timișoara,
Walter refers to it in two of his letters. After his initial satisfaction with his excellent
welcome by the audience of Timișoara, he mentions some problems with the
players of the orchestra there, whose number fluctuated due to disciplinary problems.70
He also wrote about a charity performance that was being prepared, for
which he chose Verdi’s Aida.71 He rehearsed the same operas as in Pressburg and,
on the whole, the feedback was very positive. The Temesvarer Zeitung evaluated
Walter’s conducting of the opera Pagliacci as “precise and brisk”.72 After the performance
of Faust, the newspapers noted with satisfaction that “the standard of the
opera performances, including the orchestra and the choir, is increasing night by
night”.73 Walter evaluated his two-month stay in Timișoara as follows: “I am very
much appreciated from all sides, and can leave this season with quite good impressions
and even better hopes.”74
In his last letter from Timișoara, Walter informed his family about his forthcoming
journey, where he was planning to visit Buziaș and Orșova, then the
Turkish island fortress Ada Kaleh by the Iron Gates, followed by Hercules Spa,
and then Budapest and Vienna.75 He was planning to go on to Berlin, but, in the
last minute, Mahler offered to take a trip with him to Venice, which Walter
accepted with great joy.76 His arrival in Berlin was to be postponed by eight days,
but, on 27 April 1898, he was still in Vienna, where he attended several concerts
and opera performances, as his letter written to his family reveals.77 This is his last
extant letter sent before his departure for Berlin.
69 SNM – HuM, IB Collection, MUS CXXIII, Box No. 2, p. 415.
70 Ibidem, p. 424.
71 Ibidem, p. 423.
72 Der Bajazzo, in: Temesvarer Zeitung, No. 37, 16 February 1898, p. 5.
73 Gounod’s Faust, in: Temesvarer Zeitung, No. 45, 25 February 1898, p. 4.
74 “Ich werde sehr anerkannt von allen Seiten, und kann überhaupt mit recht guten Eindrücken
und mit noch besseren Hoffnungen diese Saison verlassen.” SNM – HuM, IB Collection,
MUS CXXIII, Box No. 2, p. 423.
75 SNM – HuM, IB Collection, MUS CXXIII, Box No. 2, p. 425.
76 Ibidem, p. 426.
77 Ibidem, p. 427.
173

CONCLUSION
The Pressburg letters of Bruno Walter, introduced here for the first time to the
specialized public, turn out to be interesting historical documents which fulfil the
role of a medium of cultural memory. For the young conductor, these family letters
were a channel to maintain his relationship and cultivate an emotional closeness
with his family.78 Compared to his later autobiographical memoirs, his perspectives
on the same reality differ, because Walter’s life situation in which he wrote the
letters was different: the young conductor did not know whether and how his career
would continue. He came out of a frustrating situation in Breslau and realised
in a short time in Pressburg that things could be different. He was objectively very
successful, he was allowed to create, and the theatre director Emanuel Raul had
deep trust in him. This new experience was very important for Walter and opened
up new horizons for him. At that moment in his career, Pressburg was the best
thing that could have happened to him. The enthusiasm about this is expressed in
the letters which are like an example of the ego documents that “illuminate values,
reflect life experiences and expectations.”79 The fact that ego documents (in this
case, Walter’s letters), which are connected to an experience relatively recent in
time, are also influenced by break and estrangement cannot be ignored either. On
the one hand, this is because their editing may be more or less strongly influenced
by models and traditions, so their interpretations may be accepted without reservations
and, on the other hand, one’s self-presentation strongly depends on the
addressee.80
Walter’s activities in charge of the theatre orchestra in Pressburg and his conducting
of numerous opera performances were recorded in contemporary critiques
in the local German and Hungarian dailies. His letters confirm it and here lies
their importance in comparison to other sources: through them we learn the evaluation
of his time in Pressburg. It is about the conductor’s scope of action, i.e. his
sphere of influence, and the relationship between expectation and reality or disappointment.
They show a picture of the everyday life of the artists at the provincial
theatres of that time. The daily theatre operations did not consist only of artistic
78 See Gunilla Budde, Geschichtswissenschaft, in: Handbuch Brief. Von der Frühen Neuzeit bis
zur Gegenwart, vol. 1: Interdisziplinarität – Systematische Perspektiven – Briefgenres, ed. by
Marie Isabel Matthews-Schlinzig et al. Berlin–Boston 2020, p. 68.
79 Wolfgang Schulze (ed.), Ego-Dokumente. Annäherung an den Menschen in der Geschichte.
Berlin 1996, p. 28.
80 See Andreas Rutz, Ego-Dokument oder Ich-Konstruktion? Selbstzeugnisse als Quellen zur
Erforschung des frühneuzeitlichen Menschen, in: zeitenblicke 1/2 (2002), 20 December 2002,
available at http://www.zeitenblicke.historicum.net/2002/02/rutz/index.html, accessed
Jul. 21, 2023.
174

work. On the contrary, the technical aspect, influencing the standard of the performances,
was equally important. The theatre director Emanuel Raul managed to
provide the necessary conditions for Walter’s activities but was also aware of the
limitations faced by a provincial theatre. This might be one of the reasons why he
gave Walter such freedom in artistic expression and supported his creativity and
zeal, which was greatly appreciated by the young artist. Walter referred to this
positive experience in his 1935 interview with Ivan Ballo, although he could not
recall any further details of his stay in Pressburg. The recognition of his work and
talent was very important to him at the beginning of his career, all the more so that
he preferred conducting to being a concert pianist. At the same time, thanks to
Pressburg, he enjoyed Mahler’s closeness and affection, which was of great importance
to Walter, as can be seen in his letters. These hitherto “unknown” ego documents
deserve the interest of a wider audience.81
81 This study came into being as part of VEGA Project No. 2/0024/22 “The Theatre as the
Venue and Tool of Social Change” and APVV-20-0526 “Political socialization in the territory
of Slovakia during the years 1848–1993”. The author of the study is a researcher at the
Institute of History of the Slovak Academy of Sciences.
175

Zsombor Németh (Budapest)
THE VIOLINIST IMRE WALDBAUER’S
ACQUAINTANCE WITH BÉLA BARTÓK
After his death, the composer, pianist, and folklorist Béla Bartók (1881–1945) was
remembered by many of his contemporaries, both in public and in private. Around
and shortly after the centenary of his birth, the ever-growing number of recollections
were collected, organized, and presented in two major publications.1 While
neither Bónis’s book nor Gillies’ could be exhaustive, both give voice to many
contemporaries, from Bartók’s youthful friends to his last acquaintances.
However, one important person is missing from both publications: the violinist
and string quartet leader Imre Waldbauer, who was Bartók’s fourth most frequent
recital partner,2 gave the first performance of many of his works, and was
one of his closest colleagues. As will be discussed later in this article, their relationship
dates back to the first decade of the twentieth century, and over the years it
also developed into a friendship.
First, I present an English translation of a recently surfaced ego document
written by Imre Waldbauer;3 the edited Hungarian text of the source, which served
as the basis for the translation, can be found in the appendix of this article.4 The
publication of Waldbauer’s writing is followed by discussions of the topics covered
in the text, as well as a description of the source, and the circumstances of the
genesis of the ego document.
1 The first book is based on memories collected by the editor mainly between 1955–1968 and
1978–1980: Így láttuk Bartókot: Harminchat emlékezés, ed. by Ferenc Bónis. Budapest 1981;
Így láttuk Bartókot: Ötvennégy emlékezés, ed. by Ferenc Bónis. Budapest 1995. The second is
based on press releases from 1922–1942 and memoirs that had already appeared in print
from 1948 onwards: Bartók Remembered, ed. by Malcolm Gillies. London–Boston 1990;
Béla Bartók im Spiegel seiner Zeit – Portraitiert von Zeitgenossen, ed. by Malcolm Gillies,
trans. by Wiebke Falckenthal. Zürich–St. Gallen 1991.
2 Szabó Balázs, Forma és jelentés Bartók hegedűszonátáiban. PhD diss. Budapest 2015, p. 374.
3 This translation previously appeared in an exhibition catalogue of the Bartók Archives:
László Vikárius – Zsombor Németh, Bartók and His Violinist Partners: Documents from the
Estates of Imre Waldbauer and Zoltán Székely. Budapest 2022, pp. 104–107. I would like to
thank László Vikárius for his help with the translation.
4 Originally published in Zsombor Németh, Bartók-témájú írások a Waldbauer-hagyatékban,
in: Magyar Zene 53/1 (2020) pp. 95–99. The principles for the publication of the Hungarian
text can be found there.
177

[My Acquaintance with Béla Bartók]
In 1950 – that is, today – Béla Bartók’s works are the most performed contemporary compositions
worldwide, both in concert halls and on the radio, according to official statistics.
If we add to this their intellectual impact on progressive musicians, on young performers
led by good instincts, but also on amateur audiences with sophisticated tastes and adolescents
educated for general culture, we can conclude that, taking Bartók’s death in 1945 as
a starting point, we are witnessing a wonderful and most significant period of development
in the history of music.
In 1945 Béla Bartók was no farther from anything than the bohemianism that music
could give him: he lived the life of a modest man of culture, and his only luxury was his
belief in fulfilling his musical and life program – for him, the two were one – with a deadly
conscientiousness and without compromise. He acquired the financial means to ensure his
complete human freedom only with great difficulty. We know that with less scruples he
could have had fewer financial problems. At this point, it is impossible not to think of
Beethoven, who was on the verge of madness in his similarly ideal thinking, but in a financially
easier age, often supported by wealthy aristocrats. [Who were] Bartók’s supporters?
Almost without exception, [they were] his fellow musicians, who recognized his genius,
who were enthusiastic about it, and mostly had modest means. [They supported Bartók]
Mostly by deeds, or by work and modest “commissions”. The exceptions – and I am deliberately
not mentioning any names here – Bartók’s financial situation with relatively small
sums, but they eased his work program. For Beethoven, no amount of money was too
much to help, as his duty, the situation of his reprobate nephew and his brother’s wife. All
of Bartók’s thoughts and money were devoted solely to the service of his vocation as a
composer and musicologist – financially especially the latter. All the time, he cared for his
family with the utmost foresight and precision, within the bounds of modest civic life. An
excellent son, husband, father, friend, and colleague always, he was able to bring fairness,
as well as extraordinary nobility into his extraordinary economy.
I feel that by underlining his way of thinking and his strictly enforced principles in his
private and economic life, I am also shedding light on his way of working in music. Puritanism,
progress, organicism, fidelity to the principles, diligence, logic and purity, an
ever-broad horizon, simplicity but infinitely rich ornamentation, the respect, the desire
and the granting for the individual freedom, the exclusion of the evil and the superfluous
from the framework of his life to the point of abhorrence – all these are characteristics of
all his intellectual products. The ceaseless, inexhaustible “search” appears sometimes excruciating,
but he exploits the joy of “finding” with a childlike and exuberant happiness.
And his wonderful fresh taste limits both. He, who has always had plenty to say and had
many thoughts, never babbles, and always gets his point across in his music, neither long
nor short. He is the harshest judge of his own works. He excludes from his oeuvre a quantity
and quality of his earlier works, which act is the exclusive characteristic of a small
company of the “greatest”. He condemns works, movements and excerpts to “death” in
such a way that he sheds light on those destined to “life”.
178

I witnessed his life at its most important period, from about 1909 to 1940. I had the opportunity
to observe him, to see his work at close range, and to hear his voice, which was not
heard by many. And now, with an ageing mind, I am only beginning to understand his
desperate resentment at not being understood, at being ignored, when he so clearly saw the
way forward in all human fields and most humanly, in his music, his Hungarian music.
Here, if without pleasure, I feel it is appropriate to report on my first encounter with
Béla Bartók. Without pleasure, because the little “stories” usually – unintentionally, without
purpose, for the sake of the “story” and the interests of the storyteller himself – falsify
reality to their convenience over time. I make an exception only because I was 11 or 12 years
old, a musician of extremely pure intentions and a very sensitive, budding musician.
I listened with awe to the increasingly frequent reports of János [Hans] Koessler –
Bartók’s composition teacher – and Viktor Herzfeld – another composition teacher at the
Academy of Music and one of the first admirers of Bartók’s talent – at our family table and
during the weekly chamber music recitals I had attended. From these descriptive reports
and the comments made about him, I had a preconceived image of a strange, oddly enthusiastic,
sensitive, and frightened but willful, stubborn but interesting young man in Hungarian
boots and clothes. Of course, in my fantasies I also endowed him with many
non-existent characteristics, and if I was not enthusiastic about him, there were two reasons
for this.
The first [reason] was the comments made by my godfather [Koessler], who at that
time saw in him [Bartók] a revolutionary who was constantly in a state of unnecessary
suffering, who in his opinion lacked preparation and skill, who was blessed with a “don’t
hurt me” sensibility that seemed tragicomic, and who was, in his [Koessler’s] opinion,
blessed with a talent that was disproportionate to the above. I do not claim that I, the
12-year-old boy, interpreted Koessler’s words perfectly and correctly. That is not my emphasis.
I also well remember that six years later – after the performance of [Bartók’s] first
quartet – I was surprised to hear Koessler express a different opinion (I mention this in
defense of Koessler’s memory).
The second reason was Hungarian clothes and boots. I had just outgrown the primitively
constructed red-white-green toy-nationalism in which every Hungarian-raised boy
in Pest like me thoroughly indulged during his elementary school years under the influence
of naive or business-minded youth writers and fake historical anecdotes. For this
reason, considering myself already advanced and experienced, I considered the slogans,
external manifestations, and representatives of the [nationalist] “Tulip Movement” of the
early 1900s as cheap. For me, “Hungarian pencil”, “Hungarian pen”, “Hungarian booklet”,
“Hungarian drawing paper”, the many “Hungarian products” meant the sadly and terribly
incomplete and rudimentary, while the gypsy music that was called Hungarian meant the
music of the nauseatingly bombastic or petty sentimental “Hungarian bourgeois” feeling.
I pushed away from myself – before I understood – the ideology of the Hungarian political
situation; I did not understand the “ex lex”, the king – who was supposed to be Hungarian
but was the Habsburg emperor –, the aristocratic politicians, the miserable impotence of
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obstruction. I did not understand that what was “fine” and “cultural” was also selfish and
corruptible, and I did not believe that Ferenc Kossuth, a politician in opposition, could
supply a better standard and “justice”, [and] “good Hungarianism”. I did not like Ferenc
Liszt either, I did not even understand what was so great about him, nor Ferenc Erkel,
Károly Huber, Jenő Hubay, or even Lajos N. Hackl, who was [my] teacher at school.
And then comes Béla Bartók in Hungarian dress, quietly, shyly, with a fragile, quiet
voice and almost speechless, with his hands folded, leaning against the edge of the music
cabinet, while old Antal Kunwald, Viktor Herzfeld, Dávid Popper, my father [Joseph
Waldbauer] and I play four or five works by Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven and Brahms, one
after the other, in the intimate, almost ritualistic setting of 15–20 persons consisting of
family members, musicians and music lovers. I had to stare at Bartók a lot, because even
today, after almost 50 years, I still have the image of him “stuck” in my mind’s eye. His
pretty, childishly pure face, the defiant and stiff-necked posture of his head, the statuesque
but tense stillness of his delicate and fragile body, which must have covered up some excitement.
He was looking mainly inward and only apparently towards his surroundings with
his – later increasingly short-sighted – eyes, half-closed – or so concentrating – for hours.5
He surrounded himself with a layer of cool, lukewarm air. When someone spoke to him,
his eyes, which had just been closed, opened wide in fright. Occasionally, a small, gently
startled “ja” or “ah” or “oh” or “hoho” would slip out of his throat, but he would utter
these in a barely audible and halting voice, and then he would reply in a drawl and in a
grey, quiet but raspy voice, as if he had just woken up from a dream and responded curtly,
in a completely impersonal manner. It was obvious that he wanted to hide behind the
broken atmosphere as soon as possible. He didn’t talk about himself or anyone else;
Koessler and Herzfeld – whom he knew well – made no attempt to change this. After two
or three hours of listening to music, he quietly disappeared.
I was not aware that I had reached a turning point, merely by the appearance of a man
who, so to speak, had not uttered a word, with whom I had not spoken at all. And some six
years later, when we met again, the only discussion was music: mostly his music, in the
language of dry and objective musical terminology at best. In the intervening five or six
years, I became a young musician of 16 or 17. (I was Hubay’s pupil in an academic class at
the age of 11 and graduated at 17.) Have I become a musician? [Yes, but] Not by conscious
decision. As I see it today, my whole life of 17 years has led me here, although I didn’t dare
to believe it myself, let alone say it, [since] I had such a great respect for music. (This is still
so today.) Through my family’s central position in the musical community, I have person-
5 [Later addition at the bottom of the page:] Several years later, during the rest of rehearsals,
during long journeys together, when tired of reading or writing – he worked on trains too –
or when exhausted from the overheated compartment, we finally talked, I could not resist
enjoying his smiling, almost mischievous look, a look of the Székelys, behind which sat the
velvety calm, wise and good expression of the eyes, of a young, but already mature, resting
retriever dog.
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ally met artists of the era from all over Europe. The most celebrated were the instrumentalists
and composers who had achieved great public success, with their prestigious audiences,
noisy appearances, and success. There were many exceptions, though. The old
[Joseph] Joachim with his quartet, the Czech String Quartet, [Eugen] d’Albert, [Ferruccio]
Busoni, [continuation missing.]
SUMMARY OF THE LIFE AND WORK OF IMRE WALDBAUER
AND HIS RELATIONS TO BÉLA BARTÓK
Imre Waldbauer (1892–1952) was an important Hungarian violinist of the first half
of the twentieth century.6 Because his fame has faded considerably since his death,7
it seems appropriate to summarize the most important information about his life
and work. As his career often overlapped with Bartók’s, the relationship between
the two will also be discussed in this chapter.8
Today Imre Waldbauer is known primarily through the Waldbauer–Kerpely
String Quartet named after him and the cellist Jenő Kerpely (1885–1954). Founded
in 1909 and disbanded in 1946, the ensemble was known abroad during its existence
simply as the Hungarian Quartet.9 This ensemble premiered Bartók’s String
Quartets Nos. 1, 2, and 4, and is credited with the first Hungarian performances
of the String Quartets Nos. 3 and 6 and the early Piano Quintet.10 The Second
Quartet is dedicated to the “Quatuor Hongrois”. They not only premiered these
6 Imre Waldbauer, Waldbauer Imre, in: Zenei lexikon, vol. 2, ed. by Bence Szabolcsi – Aladár
Tóth. Budapest 1931, p. 690; A magyar muzsika könyve, ed. by Imre Molnár. Budapest 1936,
p. 516; A Magyar muzsika hőskora és jelene történelmi képekben, ed. by László Batizi. Budapest
1944, p. 391–392.
7 As an example, both current major encyclopedic dictionaries of Western music, The New
Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians (2nd ed.) and the Musik in Geschichte und Gegenwart
(2nd ed.) lack a standalone article about Imre Waldbauer. He was, however, still present
in the previous edition of the MGG, see Antal Molnár, Waldbauer, Imre (Emmerich), in:
MGG 1. Aufl. Personenteil (1968) col. 143.
8 The following is based on one of my earlier publications: Zsombor Németh, Imre Waldbauer,
an Important but Little-Known Violinist Partner of Béla Bartók, in: Studia Musicologica
62/1–2 (2021) pp. 149–173.
9 Jörg Jewanski, Ungarisches Streichquartett, in: MGG Online (2016), https://www.mggonline.com/mgg/stable/23108,
accessed Jul. 21, 2023. This Hungarian Quartet should not be
confused with the internationally much more famous ensemble with the same name
(founded in 1935 in Budapest, disbanded in 1972 after a long career in the United States),
which was originally established as “Új Magyar Vonósnégyes” (New Hungarian String
Quartet), and dropped “New” from its name after the disbandment of the Waldbauers.
10 String Quartets Nos. 1–6, Béla Bartók Complete Critical Edition 29, ed. by László Somfai –
Zsombor Németh. Munich–Budapest 2022, pp. 11–33.
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works, but also performed them regularly,11 and sometimes they gave advice to the
composer regarding instrumental techniques.12 Besides Bartók, the ensemble
worked closely with Zoltán Kodály and Ernő Dohnányi (the former dedicated his
Second, the latter his Third Quartet to the ensemble),13 and performed many important
contemporary compositions for the first time in Hungary, most notably
Claude Debussy’s Quartet.14
Waldbauer devoted himself exclusively to quartet playing and rarely performed
independently of his ensemble. These exceptional occasions were often linked to
Bartók’s person and work. The two gave fourteen sonata recitals in Hungary,
Czechoslovakia, and German-speaking countries during the 1920s and 1930s.15
(This was the time when they switched from using formal to informal forms of
address.16) Waldbauer is credited with the premiere of the “Ideal” movement of
Bartók’s Two Portraits (i.e., the first movement of that work and of the withdrawn
early Violin Concerto of 1907–1908), several pieces from the Forty-Four Duos, and
the complete Sonata for Violin and Piano No. 2.17
As an independent violinist, Waldbauer participated in the UMZE (Új Magyar
Zene-Egyesület/New Hungarian Music Society) of 1911–1912, which Bartók had
been a key figure in founding.18 Waldbauer was very active in the re-establishment
of the UMZE both in the early 1930s and just after the World War II.19
11 See the complete list of Imre Waldbauer’s Bartók-performances in Zs. Németh, Bartóktémájú
írások, see note 4, pp. 114–118.
12 László Vikárius, A “Bartók”-pizzicatóról, egy különös akkordról és A csodálatos mandarin
kéziratairól, 1. rész, in: Muzsika 52/8 (2009) pp. 8–11; Zsombor Németh, The Fourth of the
Fourth: On the Genesis and the Early Performances of the Allegretto, pizzicato Movement of
Béla Bartók’s String Quartet No. 4, in: Studia Musicologica 62/3–4 (2021) pp. 291–307.
13 Zsombor Németh, Dohnányi Ernő és a Waldbauer–Kerpely Vonósnégyes, in: Dohnányitanulmányok
2021, ed. by Anna Laskai – Viktória Ozsvárt. Budapest 2021, pp. 141–184.
14 See Gergely Fazekas, “Unhealthy” and “Ugly” Music or a “Compass Pointing Towards a Purer
Art of Superior Quality”? The Early Reception of Debussy in Hungary (1900–1918), in: Studia
Musicologica 49/3–4 (2008) pp. 321–335.
15 S. Balázs, Forma és jelentés, see note 2, p. 374.
16 Unfortunately, not much of their correspondence has survived. In a letter of 15 June 1914
Bartók still uses formal tone, while in the letter of 4 November 1928 he was already writing
to Waldbauer in an informal way. Bartók Béla levelei, ed. by János Demény. Budapest 1976,
pp. 226 and 356.
17 Zs. Németh, Imre Waldbauer, see note 8, pp. 149–173.
18 Lynn Hooker, Modernism on the Periphery: Béla Bartók and the New Hungarian Music
Society of 1911–1912, in: Musical Quarterly 88/2 (2005) pp. 284–302.
19 See János Breuer, Kadosa Pál az Új Magyar Zene-Egyesületben, in: Muzsika 21/9 (1978)
p. 1–2; János Breuer, Egy születésnapra, in: Magyar Zene 30/4 (1989) p. 428.
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Waldbauer also made a significant impact on violin and chamber music education
as a professor at the Academy of Music in Budapest (1918–1919, 1927–1946).20
Almost all the eminent Hungarian string players who reached their zenith after
World War II and played a prominent role in the performance of Bartók’s works
were once his students. He was instrumental in the education (and sometimes also
in the founding) of many younger Hungarian quartets, including the Léner, Róth,
Budapest, New Hungarian and Végh.21
From the end of the 1920s, Waldbauer occasionally appeared as a specialist
music writer. He wrote articles about topics regarding the violin for the 1930 Zenei
lexikon (Dictionary of music) edited by Bence Szabolcsi and Aladár Tóth, and articles
about different modern chamber music works for Cobbett’s Cyclopedic Survey
of Chamber Music; furthermore, he published a Hungarian obituary about Jenő
Hubay, and two essays in 1943 about the golden age of Hungarian violin music and
chamber music in Hungary.22
By the time Bartók left Hungary in October 1940 and settled in the United
States, the bond between Bartók and Waldbauer had become so strong and confidential
that in the new world Bartók entrusted the management and preservation
of his valuable manuscript to Victor Bator, whom he had never met, but who was
a childhood friend of Waldbauer.23
Waldbauer remained in Hungary during World War II and tried to keep his
ensemble together. But right after the war he encountered too many difficulties,
and the Waldbauer–Kerpely String Quartet disbanded in the fall of 1946.24 As
there were no great hopes or expectations for a high-level chamber music playing
in Central Europe at that time, Waldbauer decided to accept a teaching position in
20 Zoltán Farkas, Waldbauer Imre, in: Nagy tanárok, híres tanítványok, ed. by Ágnes Gádor –
Gábor Szirányi. Budapest 2000, p. 326–327. Nb. The Academy of Music in Budapest was
called Royal Hungarian National Academy of Music (Országos Magyar Királyi
Zeneakadémia) until 1918, National Hungarian Academy of Music (Országos Magyar
Zeneművészeti Főiskola) between 1918–1925, Liszt Ferenc Academy of Music (Liszt Ferenc
Zeneművészeti Főiskola) between 1925–2000, and Franz Liszt Academy of Music (Liszt
Ferenc Zeneművészeti Egyetem) from 2000. In my study I simply refer to it as the Academy
of Music.
21 András Schiff – Sándor Végh – Zoltán Farkas, Száz éve született Waldbauer Imre, in:
Muzsika 35/5 (1992) p. 14–15.
22 Imre Waldbauer, Hubay Jenő, a pedagógus, in: A Zene 18/10 (1937) p. 202–203; Imre Waldbauer,
A magyar hegedűművészet és hegedűpedagógia fénykora, and A magyar kamarazene, in:
A magyar muzsika hőskora, see note 1, pp. 80–136 and 137–144.
23 Carl S. Leafstedt, A Thorn in the Rosebush: The American Bartók Estate and Archives During
the Cold War, 1946–67. Nevada 2021, pp. 56–57.
24 See Zsombor Németh, “Egy Bartók-mű, mely hat évig várt a budapesti bemutatójára”:
A 6. vonósnégyes első magyarországi előadása, in: Magyar Zene 59/1 (2021) pp. 101–116.
183

Iowa in August 1946, where he arrived at the end of the year. From that time until
his death in late 1952, he was professor of violin at the State University of Iowa
(which included teaching the violin, coaching chamber music, conducting string
seminars, and pedagogy classes), first violinist of the music department string
quartet, and concertmaster of the university orchestra.25
DESCRIPTION OF THE SOURCE
The ego document in question is a draft in Hungarian on three folios, written in
pencil, originally without a title. It is currently stored in Box VIII of the Waldbauer
Estate, held in the Budapest Bartók Archives (H-Bbba). Imre Waldbauer’s son, the
pianist and musicologist Ivan Waldbauer (1923–2012) was a staff member and later
research director of the New York Bartók Archives (1957–1966) and taught at
Brown University (1960–1990).26 In 2013, his widow Claudia MacDonald donated
his literary estate to the Budapest Bartók Archives, which in fact primarily contains
the papers of his father, Imre. This material is now stored in eight blue boxes
with Roman numerals. The first seven boxes contain sheet music, while the eighth
contains personal papers, letters, scripts, newspaper cuttings and photographs.27
The content of Box VIII is not very extensive and is necessarily limited to the last
years of Imre Waldbauer’s life, since his house and most of his belongings were
destroyed during the siege of Budapest in 1944/1945.28 At first glance it might even
seem too fragmentary to be the subject of effective research. However, as this study
also demonstrates, the systematic assembly and study of the small puzzle pieces
may reveal previously unknown data and information.
ON THE GENESIS, CONTEXT, AND PURPOSE
OF THE EGO DOCUMENT
The ego document is undated, but in the first paragraph Waldbauer immediately
resolves the year 1950 as “today”. Apart from the fact that this year was the fifth
25 Julia Quick, Violin Pedagogy of Imre Waldbauer. DMA diss. Iowa City 1977.
26 The Cambridge Companion to Bartók, ed. by Amanda Bayley. Cambridge 2001, p. vii.
27 Ivan’s daughter Katherine Waldbauer donated additional documents related to Imre Waldbauer
and Béla Bartók to the Archives in 2020, they are stored in a ninth box.
28 Imre Waldbauer’s draft of a letter in Hungarian addressed to “Mr. Ambassador”, ca. 1950
(Manuscript in pencil, 5 fols., without title. H-Bbba, Waldbauer Estate, Box VIII, without
shelf mark); Circular of the Hungarian Arts Council, 6 May 1946 (Typescript, 1 fol.,
H-Bbba, Waldbauer Estate, Box VIII, without shelf mark).
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anniversary of Bartók’s death, one may wonder why Waldbauer felt the need to put
his thoughts down on paper at this moment.
The research into the Waldbauer Estate has drawn attention to Imre Waldbauer’s
active role in promoting and disseminating the work of his late friend Béla
Bartók in the United States. This material also reveals that on 20 October 1950
Waldbauer became a member of the Board of Directors of the Bartók Memorial
Fund.29 The purpose of the organization was to promote Bartók’s ideas as a composer
in the United States, and one of its first projects was the American publication
of three volumes of folk songs collected by Bartók.30 The group was shortlived31
and, according to the current state of research, its two most active members
were Yehudi Menuhin and Imre Waldbauer.32
The ego document My Acquaintance with Béla Bartók was written roughly at
the same time as the first (manuscript) version of his longer and complete Hungarian
essay Bartók’s Impact on the Violin Technique,33 in which he shared his firsthand
experience regarding Bartók’s string quartets. In the essay Waldbauer refers
to the concert celebrating the twenty-fifth anniversary of Joseph Szigeti’s American
debut, held at the Carnegie Hall on 19 December 1950, as “during last week”.34
That is, while Menuhin donated the proceeds from some of his concerts to the
Bartók Memorial Fund at the end of 1950,35 Waldbauer contributed to the Fund
by writing down his memories of Bartók.
29 Typescript, 1 fol., title: Summary of Minutes: Third Meeting. H-Bbba, Waldbauer Estate, Box
VIII, without shelf mark. (This box also contains the summary of the first and second
meetings, 7 June and 26 September 1950.)
30 The Daily Iowian 85/56, 9 December 1950, p. 3. The “three volumes of folk songs collected by
Bartók” could be either the Rumanian Folk Music in three volumes (published only in 1967),
or the Rumanian volumes plus the Serbo-Croatian Folk Songs (published in 1951, without
any mention to the Bartók Memorial Fund) and the Turkish Folk Music from Asia Minor
(published in 1976).
31 Latest known mention in the press is in Oakland Tribune, 24 June 1951, p. 49; in H-Bbba,
Waldbauer Estate, Box VIII the latest document is the summary of the third meeting (see
note 29).
32 Further members included Aaron Copland, David Diamond, Antal Doráti, Fritz Reiner,
Harold Schonberg, William Schumann, Tossy Spivakovsky, Joseph Szigeti, as well the
composer’s son Peter. It is noteworthy, however, that the trustee of the Bartók Estate, Victor
Bator, was not involved in this association.
33 Manuscript in pencil with corrections, 15 fols., without date and title. H-Bbba, Waldbauer
Estate, Box VIII, without shelf mark. First published in Zs. Németh, Bartók-témájú írások,
see note 4, pp. 100–112.
34 Olin Downes, Szigeti in Action on Anniversary. Violinist Celebrates 25th Year Since American
Debut Giving Philharmonic Concert, in: The New York Times, 20 December 1950, p. 42.
35 See e.g.: The San Francisco Examiner, 23 December 1950, p. 6; Palladium (Richmond,
Indiana), 24 December 1950, p. 15.
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Plate 1: Photo portrait of Imre Waldbauer, taken between 1946 and 1952.
Photographer unknown. H-Bbba, Waldbauer Estate, Box VIII.
186

The essay Bartók’s Impact on the Violin Technique was clearly intended for a
wider audience from the beginning. At least two phenomena prove this:
(1) The Bartók quotation at the beginning of the text is inserted in English instead
of the Hungarian original, and some of the technical terms are followed by their
English equivalents in parentheses, presumably in order to facilitate the work
of a translator. (2) Less than a month before his sudden and unexpected death
(4 December 1952), Waldbauer intended to write a series of letters with similar
content to send them to violinists who both knew Bartók and were deeply involved
with his works. He wrote in all probability only a total of two letters, both dated
13 November 1952, which he may never have sent, as they survived in his literary
estate.36 In both letters, he wrote that the subject of his writing was a “minor
work” that he had been working on for “some time” “in response to requests from
several groups.” Not wanting to “monopolize” the subject, he wrote to his colleagues
asking for their consent to the project, emphasizing that he intended to
publish their replies under the authors’ names. From all this it can be concluded
that this essay Bartók’s Impact on the Violin Technique was intended for publication
in a music journal.
However, the purpose and the targeted audience of the ego document My
Acquaintance with Béla Bartók is not so clear. There is evidence that it may have
been intended as a planned preface or supplement to Bartók’s Impact on the Violin
Technique. The notes on the verso of the last, otherwise blank page (i.e., p. 6) of My
Acquaintance with Béla Bartók do not belong to the ego document, but to the
typewritten fair copy of Bartók’s Impact on the Violin Technique:37 this indicates
that Waldbauer was working on both documents at the same time at a certain
moment. It is also noteworthy that some of the topics discussed in the ego document
are briefly recalled in the essay, and another short, unfinished, but later
36 Two letters in ink, 1+1 fol., date: 13 November 1952. H-Bbba, Waldbauer Estate, Box VIII,
without shelf marks. Although the salutation on both Hungarian-language letters is
“Kedves Barátom!” (Dear Friend), a comparison of their contents reveals that one was written
to Zoltán Székely and the other to József (Joseph) Szigeti. The content of these letters
shows that Waldbauer also wanted to write to Yehudi Menuhin, Tossi Spivakovsky, and
André (Endre) Gertler.
37 Typescript with corrections in pencil, 17 fols., without date, title: Bartóknak a
hegedűte[c]hnikára gyakorolt hatása | 6 quartettjének és 2 heg.-zong. szonátájának alapján.
H-Bbba, Waldbauer Estate, Box VIII, without shelf mark. The typescript was probably
made by Izabella Aich, the wife of Imre Waldbauer, but the penciled notes are from Waldbauer
himself. The typescript of the essay lacks the reference to Szigeti’s concert, which
indicates that it is a later fair copy of the manuscript, probably from 1952.
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unused draft related to this essay, probably intended as a preface, has survived in
the Waldbauer Estate.38
It is also possible, however, that the ego document was composed not in connection
with the essay or the Bartók Memorial Fund, but with Halsey Stevens’
Bartók biography. It is known from Stevens’ book that upon his request Wald bauer
sent him a letter, dated 31 August 1950.39 The original survives in Stevens’ papers,
but is currently unavailable for research;40 a draft of it survives in the Waldbauer
Estate,41 but this focuses mainly on pure data and thus there is no evidence of
exactly what Waldbauer wrote to Stevens about.
Of course, the possibility cannot be excluded that it was not written for public
use at all, but for a narrower audience: either for a circle of Hungarian immigrants,
for family members, or just for himself. It is clear from the text that his aim was to
preserve the fading memories of the past and thus his own cultural identity. That’s
why the text also aims to describe not only the origin of the acquaintance, but also
the socio-cultural context, generally unknown to either the American public or the
younger generation. With the preservation of his cultural identity deeply rooted in
the Austro-Hungarian past, Waldbauer also tried to preserve his personal integrity
in a new environment, the post-World War II United States, which was completely
alien to him.42
While on the one hand Waldbauer presents himself as a reliable witness (e.g.
“the image still sticks in my mind’s eye”), on the other hand he belittles other
forms of historiography (e.g. “the little ‘stories’ […] falsify reality”). These remarks
refer to the fact that when the ego document was written, the number of published
memoirs about Bartók rose considerably – in the Western (English-speaking)
38 Manuscript in pencil, 1 fol., without date, title: Bartók zeneszerzői hatása és befolyása a
vonóshangszerek te[c]hnikájára. H-Bbba, Waldbauer Estate, Box VIII, without shelf mark.
First published in Zs. Németh, Bartók-témájú írások, see note 4, p. 99.
39 Halsey Stevens, The Life and Music of Béla Bartók. New York 1953, p. 311 (note 21) and 320
(note 7). The later reference is simply August 1950, without exact day; probably it is a reference
for the same letter.
40 E-mail of Dr. Paul Allen Sommerfeld (Senior Music Reference Specialist at the Music
Division of the Library of Congress) to the author, 23 May 2023.
41 Manuscript in pencil, 1 fol., without title and date, H-Bbba, Waldbauer Estate, Box VIII,
without shelf mark.
42 The Waldbauer Estate has preserved other fragmentary sketches of a similar form (which,
however, are not ego documents, but notes for himself on his past experiences in violin
pedagogy). A few of Waldbauer’s letters written shortly after his arrival have survived in
another collection, also documenting his great difficulty in adjusting to his new life, see
Imre Waldbauer’s letter to Györgyné Sárközi, 27 March 1947, and to József (Joseph) Szigeti,
30 April 1947, Manuscript Archives of the National Széchényi Library (H-Bn), Manuscript
Collection, Fond 17/150 and Fond 157/65.
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world mainly due to the forthcoming fifth anniversary of his death43 –, but the
commemorative lines were mostly written by people who were not nearly for so
long and as closely associated with Bartók as Waldbauer. That would explain why
the violinist emphasizes that he “witnessed” the composer-pianist’s life “at its most
important period.” The fact that he begins by summarizing the turnaround in
Bartók’s reception over the past five years suggests that he probably considered it a
pharisaical pose to celebrate a person who had been less favorably received during
his lifetime, especially in his last years in the USA.
FAMILY MEMBERS AND OTHER CLOSE ACQUAINTANCES
Although Waldbauer defines the “most important period” of Bartók’s life as “from
about 1909 to 1940”, the events he recalls in the ego document are from his own
childhood: based on phrases like “I was 11 or 12 years old”, “I, the 12-year-old boy”,
and “after almost 50 years”, the events narrated can be dated to 1903. While Waldbauer
writes about his first encounter with Bartók, the text also focuses on his own
family and the environment that surrounded him. As the people he mentions in
his ego document are no longer known, and some of them are not even remembered
in music encyclopedias, I will briefly introduce them with an emphasis on
their role in the musical life of turn-of-the-century Budapest.
Imre Waldbauer’s father, József (Joseph) Waldbauer (1861–1920), was born in
Austria, but grew up in Budapest,44 where he studied as a student of Alajos Gobbi,
Károly (Karl) Huber, and Robert Volkmann.45 As an adult, he played an important
role in the development of Hungarian musical culture. From 1888 he was the
viola player in the string quartet of Jenő Hubay and David Popper.46 In 1896 he
was appointed as secretary of the Budapesti Kamara Zeneegyesület (Budapest
Chamber Music Society). The president of the society was Ödön Mihalovich,
director of the Academy of Music, and its aim was to cultivate chamber music,
43 See e.g. Béla Bartók: A Memorial Review. New York 1950. This publication reprinted the
articles which appeared in the so-called First and Second Bartók Number (i.e., No. 13 and
14, published in Autumn 1949 and Winter 1949/1950) of the music journal Tempo. In his
essay Bartók’s Impact on the Violin Technique, Waldbauer quotes articles which appeared in
this volume.
44 At the age of 11 he completed his first year in the Hungarian Royal State School of the Fifth
District of Budapest, see Károly Hofer, A Budapest-Terézvárosi állami főreáltanoda
ifjuságának érdemsorozata az 1872–1873. tanév végén. Budapest 1873, p. 5.
45 Imre Waldbauer, Waldbauer József, in: Zenei lexikon 2, ed. by Bence Szabolcsi – Aladár
Tóth. Budapest 1931, p. 690.
46 Albert Siklós, A Hubay-Popper vonósnégyes, in: A Zene 19 (1937) p. 204.
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with a special emphasis on Hungarian composers.47 József Waldbauer left the
quartet in 1899, because he found his position as secretary conflicted with his active
membership in the Hubay–Popper String Quartet, the ensemble-in-residence.48
Between 1899 and 1904, he was concertmaster of the Zenekedvelők
Egyesülete (Society of Music Lovers) orchestra,49 but later completely retired from
musical performance.
József Waldbauer was first and foremost an educator, in which role he made
use of his artistic experiences, knowledge, and broad musical skills. His activities
included not only teaching violin, conducting school choirs, but also more general
subjects, like geography or German language. His great merits lie in the management
of music education in the schools of Budapest, especially as the director of
music education from 1912.50 He composed various small-scale music pieces, especially
for youth, and wrote an unpublished violin school which was notable for
using special tetrachord fingerings to avoid open strings whenever possible.51
Imre’s godfather, too, was an illustrious person in Hungarian musical life:
Hans von Koessler (1853–1926), German composer, organist and teacher, a cousin
of Max Reger, who oversaw the composition classes at the Academy of Music between
1883–1908 and 1920–1925, and who among other things taught Béla Bartók
and Zoltán Kodály.52
Viktor Herzfeld (1856–1919) also appears multiple times in the text, and is
rightly referred to as “one of the first admirers of Bartók’s talent”.53 He was also an
Austrian, who moved to Budapest in 188654 and taught at the Academy of Music
from 1888, first as professor of music theory, aesthetics and history, and then, in
1908, after Hans Koessler’s temporary retirement, as the head of the department of
composition.55 His most famous students were László Lajtha and Antal Molnár
47 Budapesti Hírlap 16/285, 16 October 1896, p. 7; Carl Kratochwill, Neue musikalische Presse:
Zeitschrift für Musik, Theater, Kunst, Sänger-und Vereinswesen 8. Wien 1899, p. 31.
48 Budapesti Hírlap 19/263, 22 September 1899, p. 9.
49 Attila Retkes, Varietas delectat: zenekari kultúra Budapesten, 1900–1918, in: Géniuszok és
mesteremberek: zenetörténeti írások, ed. by Atilla Retkes. Budapest 2011, p. 64.
50 Ödön Geszler, Budapest székesfőváros zeneoktatása, in A magyar muzsika könyve, see note 6,
p. 243.
51 I. Waldbauer, Waldbauer József, see note 46, p. 690.
52 Vera Lampert, Koessler [Kössler], Hans, in: Grove Music Online, https://doi.org/10.1093/
gmo/9781561592630.article.15256, accessed Jan. 31, 2023.
53 Cf. Béla Bartók Jr., Chronicles of Béla Bartók’s life, Budapest 2021, pp. 41, 45, 51, 55–57 and
61–63.
54 Karoline Hochstöger, Herzfeld, Victor (Viktor) Emmerich Ritter von, in: Oesterreichisches
Musiklexikon online, https://dx.doi.org/10.1553/0x0001d145, accessed Jul. 21, 2023.
55 Mária Csanda, Herzfeld Viktor, in: Nagy elődök, https://lfze.hu/nagy-elodok/herzfeld-viktor-1814,
accessed 22 Dec. 2023.
190

(the original violist of the Waldbauer–Kerpely Quartet, later working as a music
historian and aesthetician).56 Herzfeld was a professional violinist and taught
chamber music at the Academy of Music. He was acquainted with József Waldbauer
from the Hubay–Popper String Quartet: Herzfeld was the original second
violinist of the ensemble from 1886–1889.57 He rejoined in 1897, but left the quartet,
together with József Waldbauer, in 1899.58 According to an interview with
Imre Waldbauer in 1925, it was Herzfeld, along with his father, who was the driving
force behind the Budapest Chamber Music Society.59
The “old” Antal Kunwald (1839–1903), mentioned in the document as another
participant of the music making at the Waldbauers, was an engineer, a first-class
violinist, and grandfather of the world-famous conductor Antal Doráti.60 He had
a celebrated salon, where the first two quartets of his future son-in-law Ernst von
Dohnányi were first performed,61 and where Bartók visited regularly in 1901–
1902.62
Waldbauer hints at his family’s extensive international connections at the end
of the unfinished article. József Waldbauer’s position in the Budapest Chamber
Music Society must have contributed to these connections. It is known that the
Society organized the concerts with the Joachim String Quartet (11 December
1898, 12 December 1899)63 and the Czech Quartet (11 January 1900).64 Eugen
d’Albert participated at the concert of the Hubay–Popper String Quartet on 28
January 1899, again organized by the Society; József Waldbauer was involved as a
viola player.65 (The connection between Busoni and the Budapest Chamber Music
Society is not known.)
It should be mentioned that almost all these family members or persons close
to the family played an important role in Waldbauer’s musical development. Imre
Waldbauer’s first violin teacher was his own father, who introduced him to the
field of chamber music; at the Academy of Music he was taught by Jenő Hubay
(violin) and David Popper (chamber music).66
56 Zoltán Kodály, Visszatekintés. Összegyűjtött írások, beszédek nyilatkozatok II, ed. by Ferenc
Bónis. Budapest 1964, p. 382–383.
57 Albert Siklós, A Hubay-Popper vonósnégyes, in: A Zene 19 (1937) p. 204.
58 Pesti Napló 50/286, 15 October 1899, p. 8.
59 Pesti Napló 76/99, 3 May 1925, p. 17.
60 Antal Doráti, Egy élet muzsikája. Budapest 1981, p. 27.
61 Ilona Kovács, Dohnányi Ernő új perspektívában. Budapest 2019, p. 91.
62 B. Bartók Jr., Chronicles of Béla Bartók’s life, see note 53, pp. 41–42, 49, 52 and 54–55.
63 Pesti Napló 49/342, 11 December 1898, p. 12; Pesti Hírlap 11/345, 13 December 1899, p. 8.
64 Pesti Hírlap 22/11, 12 January 1900, p. 5.
65 Pesti Napló 50/29, 29 January 1899, p. 10.
66 In the ego document, Waldbauer states that he graduated at 17, but this is not entirely true.
According to the different volumes of Az Országos M. Kir. Zene-Akadémia Évkönyve
191

NATIONALITY ISSUES
The epoch referred to in the ego document overlaps with the period of Magyarization,
also known as Hungarianization, which aimed to promote the dominance of
Hungarian language and culture over various other ethnic groups located in the
Hungarian territories of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. As some related issues are
briefly touched upon in the ego document, it is vital to expand on this topic.
The Magyarization policy focused mainly on language and education. Hungarian
was made the official language of the lower levels of government and the
judiciary. Other languages were marginalized or even suppressed: schools were
required to teach in Hungarian, and students from non-Hungarian backgrounds
were encouraged or forced to adopt the Hungarian language and cultural norms.
The efforts were effective: in 1890, only 42–43 % of the population spoke Hungarian
as their mother tongue, which rose to 54 % by 1910; by then, almost all civil
servants, public employees, judges and prosecutors, secondary school teachers, and
doctors used Hungarian as their first language, and administration, business, and
high society became predominantly Hungarian-speaking.67
The policy also included more chauvinistic goals: the assimilation of non-
Hungarian ethnic groups into Hungarian culture. Thus, efforts were made to promote
Hungarian traditions, customs, and values while suppressing or discouraging
the expression of non-Hungarian identities. An example of this was the Tulipán
mozgalom (Tulip Movement), also known as the Országos Tulipánkert Szövetség
(National Tulip Garden Association), later the Tulipánszövetség Magyar
Védőegyesület (Hungarian Tulip Defense Association). Founded on 15 March 1906
(not in the early 1900s, as Waldbauer recalled) by the wives of the most prominent
Hungarian aristocrats, its aim was to promote Hungarian products, Hungarian
national style, and patriotism, as Waldbauer correctly recalled in the ego document.
However, the tulip-shaped enamel badge worn by members of the movement
was soon discovered to have been made in Vienna, causing a major scandal.68
Although Waldbauer mentions this movement only in a negative context, it is
worth noting that it has also been associated with artistic initiatives that have
[Almanac of the Royal Hungarian Academy of Music], ed. by Géza Moravcsik, Waldbauer
was a student, but was not qualified in 1904/1905, and he was an ordinary student between
the academic years 1905/1906–1908/1909. In 1909/1910 he was a “repeater” of his own will,
but in the end he did not acquire a diploma.
67 See Katus László, A modern Magyarország születése. Magyarország története 1711–1914. Pécs
2021, pp. 391–394.
68 Ady Endre összes prózai művei VII, ed. by András Kispéter – József Varga. Budapest 1968,
pp. 171–172 and 427–430.
192

stood the test of time. For example, Bartók premiered the solo piano version of his
Rhapsody Op. 1 at a concert in Pozsony (Pressburg/Bratislava) on 4 November
1906, organized for the benefit of the Tulip Movement.69
As indirectly indicated in the ego document, all these processes affected the
Waldbauer family, who came from the Austrian side of the Leitha river, and who
adapted themselves to the contemporary situation. For example, it is reported that
the schoolteacher József Waldbauer not only learned the Hungarian language, but
from the 1890s on regularly taught patriotic songs to the school choirs,70 and at the
end of 1901, together with Herzfeld and Koessler, he joined the Magyar Iparpártoló
Szövetség (Association of Supporters of Hungarian Industry) and in 1906 its successor,
the Országos Iparpártoló Szövetség (Association of Supporters of National
Industry).71
The young Imre, born in Budapest, was also brought up in this Hungarian
spirit,72 and his first language was already Hungarian. This is most importantly
evidenced in the surviving sheet music with his personal remarks in Hungarian,
but his few personal letters and the writings on Bartók from around 1950 preserved
in the literary estate were also written in Hungarian.73 But the coexistence of
German and Hungarian accompanied him throughout his life. In his papers one
can also find poems and short stories written in German;74 judging from their
content, they were created from a strong inner impulse and were intended for personal
or very limited use.
In the ego document, Waldbauer writes that even then he was critical of “the
primitively constructed red-white-green toy-nationalism”. He writes not only
about the poor quality of artisanal products, but also about “the gypsy music that
69 Demény János, Bartók Béla művészi kibontakozásának évei (1906–1914), in: Liszt Ferenc és
Bartók Béla emlékére. Zenetudományi tanulmányok III, ed. by Bence Szabolcsi – Dénes
Bartha. Budapest 1955, pp. 311–313.
70 See e.g.: Budapest 16/72, 12 March 1892, p. 5.
71 Honi Ipar 3/1, 1 January 1902, p. 12; Honi Ipar 7/4, 15 February 1906, p. 4.
72 A typical, publicly visible example of this was Waldbauer’s recitation of Mihály Vörösmarty’s
poem Hymnus at the coronation celebration of the Teacher Training Institute of the Budapest
Teacher Training College (the school which he attended) in June 1907, see Budapesti
Hírlap 27/137, 9 June 1907, p. 7.
73 E.g. Imre Waldbauer’s letter to Ivan Waldbauer (his son), postscript by Izabella Aich (his
wife), 1 April 1950, written in pencil. 2 fols. H-Bbba, Waldbauer Estate, Box VIII, without
shelfmark.
74 “Liebe” (Manuscript in pencil, 3 fols); “Der Schwan”, at the end dated as “Iowa City, am
3. Aug. 1947” (Manuscript in pencil, 6 fols); four poems with titles “I. An die Kunst”,
“II. Meine Geige”, “III. Ich habe nichts mehr …”, each dated “July 30, 1949” (Manuscript
in pencil, 3 fols). H-Bbba, Waldbauer Estate, Box VIII, without shelf marks.
193

was called Hungarian”, highlighting the problem that under the label of Hunga r-
ian art, an institutionally codified set of outdated classicizing topics and forms was
being propagated. As Judit Frigyesi pointed out, “the generation of the turn of the
century felt itself to be Hungarian and aspired to create a Hungarian art, yet it had
to refuse the traditional form of Hungarianness in culture and lifestyle because
that was monopolized for chauvinistic and anti-democratic political aims.”75
The policy of Hungarianization often met with resistance from non-Hungarian
ethnic groups who sought to preserve their own languages, cultures, and identities.
Waldbauer’s ego document also draws attention to the fact that although the
policy had a powerful effect on society, by contrast science and the arts, especially
music, remained almost exclusively German-oriented and German-speaking. As
Zoltán Kodály pointed out in 1932,
[i]f it had not been for the fact that the program notes were written in
Hungarian, the music played at concerts would have made one think that
one was in a small German town. […] This was self-evident in view of the
fact that the majority of professional musicians did not know Hungarian,
and even the lovers of finer music – not the opera-goers, but those who
practiced music at home, the performers of classical chamber music – preferred
talking German rather than Hungarian. No wonder that in this
great German world we were overcome by a terrific longing for the real
Hungary, which could not be found anywhere in Pest, for here German
was practically the official language of music.76
It is also known that although many at the Academy of Music proclaimed the
primacy of “Hungarian music” (which was just music thought to be Hungarian),
the educational materials and methods followed the practices used in Austria and
Germany, and classes were often taught in German.77
Although Waldbauer does not emphasize it, his problem with the Hungarian
“toy-nationalism” must have been not only the lower standards, but also that it was
not entirely sincere, especially in music circles. As he notes, many of those who
chanted Hungarian slogans back then were native Germans. Thus he distanced
himself from well-respected Hungarian musical figures: Franz Liszt, who was seen
as the great national composer but who lived abroad for most of the year and did
75 Judit Frigyesi, Béla Bartók and Turn-of-the-Century Budapest. Berkley–Los Angeles–
London 1998, p. 49.
76 The Selected Writings of Zoltán Kodály, ed. by Ferenc Bónis, trans. by Lili Halápy – Fred
Macnicol. London 1974, p. 210.
77 Tibor Frank, Nemzetek fölötti nyelv és nemzeti fennmaradás: kulturális politikák esélyei Kelet-
Közép-Európában, in: Magyar Tudomány 111/8 (2004) p. 818.
194

not even speak Hungarian properly;78 Ferenc Erkel, who was the father of
Hungarian grand opera (written mainly on historical themes) and composed the
music of the Hungarian National Anthem, but who was also of German origin;79
Karl Huber (later Károly Hubay), whose son Jenő used the same familiar melodic
material as Liszt in his rhapsodies and his Hungarian-influenced violin pieces and
stage works.80 He justly challenged his schoolteacher, Lajos N. Hackl (Ludwig
Napoleon Hackl, 1868–1942), who was at this time an enthusiastic supporter of
Hungarianization, but a decade later wrote the anthem of the Germans in Hungary
(“Seid gegrüßt ihr deutschen Brüder …”).81
THE POLITICAL EVENTS RECALLED
The ego document also contains comments on the political events of 1903 in
Hungary, which will be briefly explained in what follows.
At the turn of the century, the leading Hungarian political institutions generally
drifted toward more conservative, clerical, and chauvinist ideas, departing
from the liberal ideology of the political groups of the 1870s and 1880s. The greatest
difference between the governing parties and the opposition was thus the relationship
towards the Habsburg monarchy: the opposition advocated democratization
and greater independence within the Empire. As the peculiarities of the political
system after 1867 did not favor the opposition gaining power, the opposition organized
nationwide demonstrations and blocked legislation in parliament with
obstructions (via endless lengthy speeches, by demanding roll-call votes on almost
every detail, etc.).82 These actions were effective: governments in power were usually
overthrown within a short time, followed by a new leadership formed from the
same branch, and the events repeated themselves cyclically. The persistent obstruction,
however, caused unforeseeable damage to the parliamentarianism as well: it
threatened the normal functioning of the state and discredited the legislature in
the eyes of the public.83
78 Cf. Joanne Cormac, Liszt, Language, and Identity, in: 19th-Century Music 36/3 (2013)
pp. 231–247.
79 Cf. Amadé Németh, Erkel Ferenc életének krónikája. Budapest 1967, pp. 16–20; András
D. Nagy, Az Erkel család krónikája. Budapest 2009.
80 László Gombos, “Hírhedett zenész” és “zeneéletünk nesztora”. Párhuzamok Liszt és Hubay
pályáján, in: Zenetudományi Dolgozatok 1999, ed. by Ágnes Gupcsó. Budapest 1999, p. 289.
81 See Ferenc Ádám, Hackl Napoleon Lajos, in: Rákosmenti Múzeumi Esték 7/1 (2012) p. 10–11.
82 György István Tóth, Millenniumi magyar történet: Magyarország története a honfoglalástól
napjainkig. Budapest 2001, pp. 435–438.
83 See Károly Bérenger-Kecskeméti, Országgyűlési és parlamenti élet Magyarországon, 1608–
1918. Budapest 2008, p. 346–347.
195

The political life of 1903 was determined by a parliamentary fight which broke out
over the language of military training and command and the use of Hungarian
national insignia and colors in the army. On one side was the so-called Liberal
Party, loyal to the Habsburgs, who had been in government officially since 1875 (in
practice, however, since the Compromise of 1867, as the party was formed by the
merger of the former parties of Ferenc Deák and Kálmán Tisza); the leading force
of the opposition was the Independence Party led by Ferenc Kossuth, the son of
Lajos Kossuth, governor and president during the revolution of 1848/1849, a strong
critic of the Compromise.84 The political crisis began in January 1903 and reached
its first climax in May, when due to the endless battle between the governing parties
and the opposition the country went into a state of ex lex (lawlessness) due to
the lack of an approved budget. Thus, in June, Prime Minister Kálmán Széll had
to resign from his post, leaving the country in crisis.85
In November, with the support of Emperor Franz Joseph I, István Tisza was
able to form his (first) government and began to restore order. By 1904, his fierceness
and frequent breaches of the rules had polarized public opinion to an unprecedented
degree. In the autumn of the same year, Tisza adopted a series of laws restricting
the work of the parliamentary opposition, which united his rivals into a
single electoral coalition. Thus, in the Hungarian parliamentary elections of January
1905, the governing Liberal Party lost its majority for the first time, which led
to the (more famous) 1905–1906 Hungarian political crisis.86
From the ego document it appears that the young Waldbauer, or more likely
his family, agreed with the Liberal Party. This political side is described in the text
as “fine” and “cultural”, while he recalls that he did not believe that Ferenc Kossuth
and the Independent Party “could supply a better [political] standard” than the
ruling forces. On the other hand, it also shows that Waldbauer’s opinion had softened
in the meantime. This can be traced back to the fact that he also labels the
ruling party as “selfish and corruptible”, and to such claims as “the king […] was
supposed to be Hungarian” (which was exactly the opposite of the Liberal Party’s
ambitions). Waldbauer’s comment on “the miserable impotence of obstruction”
shows how far the legislature had become discredited in his and his contemporaries’
eyes.
84 See István Dolmányos, A magyar parlamenti ellenzék történetéből, 1901–1904. Budapest 1963,
p. 159–199.
85 See Viktória Czene-Polgár – Andrea Szabó – Ágnes Zsámbokiné Fisckovszky, A “fináncztudomány”
művelői. Pécs 2021, p. 168.
86 Péter Hanák, Az 1905–1906. évi politikai válság, in: Magyarország története 7, ed. by Péter
Hanák – Ferenc Mucsi. Budapest 1983, pp. 557–608; Gábor Vermes, Tisza István. Budapest
2001, pp. 102–125.
196

BÉLA BARTÓK IN HUNGARIAN DRESS
According to the reminiscences collected by Bónis and Gillies, to his contemporaries
Béla Bartók was not only a great composer, but his music and personality
symbolized political and cultural radicalism and a modern, truly European and
progressive Hungary. The image of Bartók today is still based on these premises.
The fact that Waldbauer devoted so much space to the portrayal of public conditions
around 1903 is because he did not want to deny the validity of this image, but
he did want to draw attention to the path Bartók had taken.
In the early 1900s, Bartók seems to have supported the patriotic tendencies
that were prevalent at that time. However, at the beginning of 1903 Bartók’s attitude
changed within a relatively short period and he became an extreme nationalist
for a brief time. This issue has already been examined in the major Bartók-biographies;
below I summarize the decisive events of 1903, which overlap with Bartók’s
first meeting with Waldbauer, on the basis of Judit Frigyesi’s doctoral thesis.87
Bartók’s letters surviving from this period show that his interest in politics had
increased greatly. He enthusiastically reflected to his mother on the political events
of spring 1903.88 On 12 June he expounds his political views at special length, in
the propagandistic style of the newspapers of the time; he even quotes Jenő Rákosi,
the most extreme nationalist journalist then who many already found despicable
in his own time.89
Bartók also started to copy the mannerisms of popular Hungarian fashion. He
began to write to his friends and professors either on stationery exhibiting the
printed line “Isten álld meg a magyart” (God bless the Hungarian, i.e., the first line
of the Hungarian national anthem), or he himself designed the letterhead, which
included the line “Le a Habsburgokkal!” (Down with the Habsburgs).90 He had a
Hungarian-style suit made for himself which he wore at his graduation recital and
had his picture taken wearing it.91 His attitude also affected his family relation-
87 Judit Frigyesi, Béla Bartók and Hungarian Nationalism: The Development of Bartók’s Social
and Political Ideas at the Turn of the Century (1899–1903). PhD diss. Pennsylvania 1989,
pp. 87 ff.
88 On 26 March 1903 he reported that the atmosphere is explosive in the Lower Chambers; on
1 April and 3 May he wrote about the imminent ex lex. B. Bartók Jr., Chronicles of Béla
Bartók’s life, see note 53, pp. 59–61.
89 Bartók’s letter to his mother, 12 June 1903. Bartók Béla családi levelei, ed. by Béla Bartók Jr.
Budapest 1981, p. 104–105.
90 See e.g. Bartók to his mother, 23 September 1903. For a facsimile, see Bartók Béla kézírása,
ed. by Bence Szabolcsi – Benjámin Rajeczky. Budapest 1961, Document no. 1.
91 Bartók’s letter to his mother, 3 May 1903 and 27 May 1903. Bartók Béla családi levelei, see
note 89, pp. 99 and 102. For a copy of the photograph, dedicated to Hans Richter, see Béla
Bartók: Pictures of a Life, ed. by Ferenc Bónis. Budapest 2016, p. 87.
197

198
Plate 2: Photo portait of Béla Bartók, depicting him in Hungarian dress,
signed and dated 10 July 1903. On top: “Első hangversenyem emlékéül”
(“In memory of my first concert”). Photo by Mai és Társa (Mai and Companie).
H-Bbba, BA-N: 3818/a.

ships: for example, he disapproved when his mother mixed German words in
Hungarian sentences,92 and insisted that his sister Erzsébet (Elizabeth) should no
longer be called by the German diminutive (“Elza”), but with the Hungarian one
(“Böske”),93 and she should also wear “Hungarian dress” at his concert.94
A few days after his graduation recital, given in his newly made national costume,
Bartók was already making arrangements to leave Budapest and prepare for
a prolonged stay abroad. As he began his professional career, he felt the necessity
to articulate an ideological goal of his own, thus he wrote to his mother from
Gmunden on 8 September 1903: “[f]or my own part, all my life, in every sphere,
always and in every way, I shall have one objective: the good of Hungary and the
Hungarian nation.”95 In the summer of 1903, he wrote his symphonic poem Kossuth
(BB 31) – which heroizes Lajos Kossuth, whose son was the leader of the Independent
Party – and wrote an analysis full of patriotic phrases for its first performances
in Budapest (13 January 1904) and Manchester (18 February 1904).96
However, the ideals of 1903 were quickly rejected by Bartók for two main reasons.
As Tibor Tallián has pointed out, Bartók soon realized that Hungary had
much more serious problems than limited independence, and he felt firsthand that
the anti-culturalism of society was in great part due to the “aristocratic” carriers of
national thought. In parallel with his political disillusionment, he also realized the
superficiality of the Hungarian musical style he had inherited, and set out in search
of something more ancient, more Hungarian.97
According to Waldbauer’s ego document, Bartók’s activities were not looked
upon with favor at the time. The young boy, who heard Bartók’s name more and
more often at family dinners (indicating his growing popularity in Budapest’s
musical circles), and who was also strongly influenced by the turbulent political
events of the time, but was standing on the other side of the barricade, simply
thought that Bartók was a hypersensitive, half-educated, arrogant, ultranationalist
revolutionary, who would soon disappear from public attention. This prediction
did not come true; indeed, Waldbauer and Bartók developed a close relationship,
as explained earlier in this article.
92 Bartók’s letter to his mother, 4 March 1903. Bartók Béla családi levelei, see note 89, p. 92.
93 Bartók’s letter to his mother, 12 June 1903. Ibidem, p. 104.
94 Bartók’s letter to his mother, 1 April 1903. Béla Bartók Letters, ed. by János Demény, trans.
by Péter Balabán – István Farkas. New York 1971, p. 22.
95 Ibidem, p. 29.
96 Béla Bartók Writings, http://bartok-irasai.zti.hu/en/irasok/?mufaj#On%20His%20own%20
Compositions, accessed Jul. 21, 2023.
97 Tibor Tallián, Béla Bartók. Budapest 2016, p. 51.
199

SUMMARY
Imre Waldbauer’s recently discovered ego document dates from 1950, and after a
brief summary of the previous five years of Bartók reception, it turns to his first
encounter with the composer, which can be dated to 1903. The genesis of the
document can be attributed either to Waldbauer’s correspondence with Halsey
Stevens or to the Bartók Memorial Fund’s influence (or a combination of both); it
is safe to say that Waldbauer, as an important witness, wanted to play his part in
shaping the way Bartók would be remembered.
Although many of Bartók’s letters written to his mother tell us what he thought
of the German-speaking families and musical communities of turn-of-the-century
Budapest, until now there have been almost no documents available to researchers
that reveal what these circles thought of Bartók or how they saw him during his
strongly nationalistic period.98 Waldbauer’s ego document shows how the pre-1906
Bartók was perceived in the partly German, partly Jewish and partly Germanspeaking
musical circles of Budapest. Their reaction, as the document illustrates,
was not as positive as it would be in later years. The document thus contributes to
Bartók research several new, partly unsuspected data and perspectives. The statements
attributed to Koessler are also important, since very little is known about
the relationship between the master and his pupil, and what is known is based on
sources coming directly from Bartók and Kodály.99
However, this ego document is not only of interest for the relationship between
the two men (and thus for Bartók research), but also for the study of musical
life in the long nineteenth century. It provides an insight into turn-of-the-century
Budapest’s chamber music life and the closely related world of salons – a research
topic still in its infancy.100 The ego document also sheds light on tensions between
different communities and on social and political conflicts.
As with all ego documents, there is the question of how reliable Waldbauer’s
recollections are, especially since they were written half a century after the events
reported. Unfortunately, in the American period of his life, Waldbauer struggled
to provide accurate dates. Several of the figures in Stevens’ book are erroneous
because Waldbauer gave the wrong year in his letter or letters from August 1950.101
98 From Bartók’s letter to his mother, 27 May 1903, it is known that his piano professor István
Thomán gave voice to his disapproval. Bartók Béla családi levelei, see note 89, p. 102.
99 See András Wilheim, Bartók’s Exercises in Composition, in: Studia Musicologica 23/1 (1981)
pp. 67–78.
100 The most comprehensive work on this subject to date is Tibor Frank, Szalonvilág – A polgári
érintkezés modernizálódása a 19. században. Budapest 2020.
101 H. Stevens, The Life and Music of Béla Bartók, see note 39, pp. 44–46. They did not perform
Schoenberg’s First Quartet in 1911 but planned to perform the Second in 1914 (which was
200

An error of this kind has also slipped into the ego document: as it is discussed
above, the Tulip Movement was established only in 1906, not in the early 1900s, as
Waldbauer recalled. He also remembered wrongly the year of his graduation concert.
However, the question of credibility is raised mostly by the fact that there is
no mention of Waldbauer or his family in Bartók’s correspondence before 12 January
1910,102 even though this period of Bartók’s life is quite well documented.
Nevertheless, the people Waldbauer recalled apart from himself and his father
were verifiably Bartók’s acquaintances. His relationship with Koessler, Herzfeld
and even the Kunwalds is well documented. Waldbauer’s description of Bartók’s
nationalist image is confirmed by other documents of the time; Waldbauer’s portrait
of Bartók as a reserved, taciturn man also agrees with various published
accounts. Thus, there is no reason to doubt the credibility of Waldbauer’s recollections,
only the accuracy of some of the details; in particular, whether the event
described really happened at the Waldbauers, or rather elsewhere, e.g. at the
Kunwalds’, at the Thomán family’s, or at the famous salon of Emma Gruber, which
it is known Bartók frequently attended.
EPILOGUE: TOPICS THAT WERE NOT COVERED IN THE
UNFINISHED DOCUMENT (BUT MIGHT HAVE BEEN)
One of the major drawbacks of the ego document is that it ends abruptly. The cause
of the interruption is unknown, but one can sense that Waldbauer had much more
on his mind than he wrote down. Just looking at the end of the text, it is likely that
if he had continued to write, he would have written something about Johannes
Brahms, as his father participated in some of the concerts held by the great composer
and the Hubay–Popper Quartet.103 He shared his recollections of Brahms at some
length in an interview he gave in the USA,104 but he never went into detail about
how he and Bartók met again in 1909, when the Waldbauer– Kerpely Quartet was
formed. I will briefly summarize this below, as it also pertains to Bartók and is
almost inextricably linked to what is described in the ego document.
cancelled and first performed only in 1923); Waldbauer premiered the first of the Two
Portraits not in 1909 but in 1911; the Waldbauer-Kerpely Quartet did not perform Bartók’s
First quartet in the Netherlands and Germany in 1911.
102 Bartók Béla családi levelei, see note 89, p. 193–194.
103 Tully Potter, From chamber to concert hall, in: The Cambridge Companion to the String Quartet,
ed. by Robin Stowell. Cambridge 1999, p. 56.
104 U. S. or Red Rule Decision Termed Easy: Famed Budapest-Born Musician Enjoys Summer
Climate Here. (Newspaper clipping of unknown origin, ca. 1949. H-Bbba, Waldbauer
Estate, Box VIII, without shelf mark.)
201

Plate 3: “Das ungarische Streichquartett (Waldbauer–Kerpely)”, a 1910 picture postcard
of the Rózsavölgyi and Company publishing house. From left to right: Imre Waldbauer,
Antal Molnár, János Temesváry, Jenő Kerpely. H-Bbba, Waldbauer Estate, Box VIII.
According to Antal Molnár (1890–1983), the original viola player of the Quartet
and later renowned music historian and professor, Bartók and Kodály had agreed
with the firm Rózsavölgyi & Co. in 1909 to organize a composers’ evening in the
spring of 1910, and there was no doubt that the both composers’ first string quartets
would be central to the performances.105 However, the Hubay–Popper String
Quartet only performed rarely by this time. The two active Hungarian string quartets,
the Grünfeld–Bürger and the Kemény–Schiffer were out of the question, because
their members were old-fashioned who viewed new music with distaste and
were too busy to learn such complex pieces. Bartók also had bad experiences with
the former group: the first performance of his 1903 Piano Quintet in Hungary was
scheduled for 4 December 1904, but the ensemble, referring to the difficulty of the
work and the large number of rehearsals required to learn it, changed the concert
program days before the event and played Schubert’s Piano Quintet in A major
(“Trout”) instead.106
105 See Antal Molnár, Hat írás Bartókról, in: Muzsika 27/2 (1986) p. 169.
106 B. Bartók Jr., Chronicles of Béla Bartók’s life, see note 53, p. 76.
202

Bartók’s first thought was probably to invite a foreign ensemble: on 8 June 1909
Bartók sent a manuscript copy of the full score and the parts of the recently finished
First Quartet to the violinist Henri Marteau, whom he had met the previous
year in Budapest. Marteau’s quartet, however, never played the work, and the parts
had been returned to the composer by the fall of 1909.107
So, it was necessary to conduct an inspection among the unknown domestic
quartets. It was Gusztáv Bárczy, one of the owners of Rózsavölgyi & Co., who
recommended Bartók and Kodály to get in touch (again) with József Waldbauer,
since he might have been able to arrange a temporary ensemble for the performance
of the new works.108 József Waldbauer put his 17-year-old son Imre in
charge of the quartet. János Temesváry (1890–1964) was selected as second violinist.
Temesváry was a student of Hubay, Imre’s chamber music partner at the Academy
of Music and an active participant in the chamber music sessions at the Waldbauers’
apartment. The viola part was originally taken by József Waldbauer, but as
he was often tired from teaching all-day, this part was later given to the 19-year-old
Antal Molnár, perhaps on Kodály’s recommendation.109 Molnár was a classmate
of Imre Waldbauer in chamber music, and had come into contact with the Waldbauer
family even earlier through his high school teacher, Sándor Szilágyi.110 At
one time Molnár was also courting Ilona, Imre’s sister.111 Molnár had previously
only played the violin and was encouraged to switch to viola by József himself.
When Kodály’s String Quartet No. 1 was first rehearsed, the ensemble consisted
of Waldbauer, Temesváry, Molnár, and another former student of the Academy of
Music, Franz Tonházi (1885–?).112 Jenő Kerpely, who later became the cellist of the
ensemble, was living abroad before the formation of the quartet. As far as can be
ascertained, he may have known the Waldbauer family from their vacations in the
village of Hodrusbánya (now Banská Hodruša, Slovakia),113 but if so, he was not
a frequent guest at the Waldbauer salon. According to him, he met József and Imre
Waldbauer when he returned from London in the fall of 1909 and was invited to
play some chamber music at the home of a certain Baron Disztray. A few days
later he had a conversation with Bartók and Kodály, who mentioned that they
107 See Günther Weiss-Aigner, Zwei unbekannte Briefe von Béla Bartók zu seinem Violinkonzert
(op. posth) 1907–1908 und seinem ersten Streichquartett (op. 7), in: Studia Musicologica 27
(1985) pp. 279–292.
108 A. Molnár, Hat írás Bartókról, see note 105, p. 170.
109 Antal Molnár, Részletek egy korai önéletrajzból (1912), in: Boethius boldog fiatalsága, ed. by
János Demény. Budapest 1989, p. 68.
110 Antal Molnár, Magamról, másokról. Budapest 1972, pp. 18 and 303.
111 Ibidem, p. 11.
112 Világ 16/99, 3 May 1925, p. 19.
113 Pécsi Napló, 11 March 1926, p. 2.
203

wanted to organize a composers’ evening and present their new string quartets to
the Budapest audience.114 It is possible that Kerpely was recruited by Bartók: the
composer-pianist and the cellist knew each other from the Academy of Music and
had given a concert together in Pozsony, in 1906.115
In the beginnings the ensemble was coached by Waldbauer’s father, and later
also by the composers. According to Molnár, Kodály listened to the ensemble after
a few rehearsals and had no objections; Bartók listened to them on about the twenty-fifth
rehearsal, sat quietly through the session without moving, and before leaving
said quietly: “All right!”116 The ensemble had a total of about one hundred rehearsals
with just these two works, probably playing them many times in front of
a select audience at the Waldbauer salon. The first performance of the two works
outside the family nest was on 14 March 1910, at a concert for invited guests at the
Academy of Music.117 The public debut of the Waldbauer–Kerpely Quartet was at
the first concert devoted to Zoltán Kodály’s works on 17 March 1910 in the socalled
Royal Hall (the concert hall of the Royal Hotel near the Academy of Music),
followed by Bartók’s concert two days later at the same venue.118 These two concerts
marked a turning point not only in the careers of the four young instrumentalists
and the two slightly older composers, but also in the history of Hungarian
music.
114 Ujság, 19 March 1935, p. 16.
115 B. Bartók Jr., Chronicles of Béla Bartók’s life, see note 53, pp. 59 and 86.
116 A. Molnár, Hat írás Bartókról, see note 105, p. 170.
117 Budapesti Hírlap, 15 March 1910, p. 14.
118 String Quartets Nos. 1–6 (BBCCE vol. 29), see note 10, p. 15.
204

APPENDIX:
THE EGO DOCUMENT IN THE ORIGINAL LANGUAGE
[Megismerkedésem Bartók Bélával]
1950-ben – napjainkban – Bartók Béla művei a hivatalos statisztika alapján a legtöbbször
előadott korunkbeli zeneművek világszerte, úgy koncerttermekben, mint
rádióban. Ha ehhez még hozzávesszük a haladó szellemű muzsikusokra, a jó ösztönök
által is vezetett zenei ifjúságra, de a fejlett ízlésű laikus-publikumra és az általános
kultúrát célzó nevelést élvező serdülő ifjúságra gyakorolt szellemi hatásukat,
megállapíthatjuk, hogy – Bartók 1945-ben bekövetkezett halálát véve kiindulópontul
– a zenetörténet egy csodálatos és legnagyobb jelentőségű fejlődési periódusának
vagyunk tanúi.
1945-ben Bartók Béla mitől nem volt távolabb, mint a zeneművészet adta-hozta
bohémségtől: szerény igényű kultúrember életét élte, és egyetlen fényűzést jelentő
hite az volt, hogy zenei- és életprogramja – a kettő nála egyet jelentett – parancsoló
kötelességeinek halálos lelkiismeretességgel, megalkuvás nélkül eleget tegyen.
Csak nagy nehezen szerezte meg az anyagiakat, melyek teljes emberi szabadságát
biztosították. Tudjuk, hogy kevesebb skrupulussal kisebb anyagi gondjai lehettek
volna. Lehetetlen e helyen nem gondolni Beethovenre, aki azonban bolondosság
határán mozgott hasonlóképp ideális gondolkozásában – de anyagiakban könynyebb
korban, gyakran nagyvagyonú arisztokratáktól támogatva. Bartók támogatói?
Szinte kivétel nélkül géniuszát felismerő, azért lelkesedő, többnyire szerény
anyagiak felett rendelkező muzsikustársai. Többnyire tettel, illetve munkavalutával
és szerény „megrendelésekkel”. A kivételek – és e helyen szántszándékkal nem
említek neveket – viszonylag csekély összegekkel könnyítettek Bartók anyagi helyzetén,
de könnyítettek munkaprogramján. Beethoven számára semmilyen összeg
nem volt sok, hogy mihaszna unokaöccse, illetve fivére felesége helyzetén kötelességképpen
ne segítsen. Bartók minden gondolata és pénze egyedül zeneszerzői és
zenefolklorisztikai hivatása – anyagilag különösen ez utóbbi – szolgálatának szentelődött.
Családja soráról mindvégig, szerény polgári keretek között a legmesszemenőbb
előrelátással, pontossággal gondoskodott. Kitűnő fiú, férj, apa, barát és
kolléga volt mindenkor, aki a rendkívüli gazdaságosságba a méltányosság mellett
rendkívüli nobilitást is bele tudott vinni.
Úgy érzem, mikor aláhúzom a magán- és gazdasági élet terén megnyilvánuló
gondolkozásmódját, szigorúan keresztülvitt elveit, azzal fényt vetek munkamódjára
a zenében is. Puritánság, fejlődés, organikusság, elvhűség, szorgalom, logika és
tisztaság, mindig széles horizont, egyszerűség, de végtelen gazdag ornamentika, az
egyéni szabadság tisztelete, kívánása és megadása, a rossznak és a feleslegesnek
gyűlöletig menő kizárása életének saját kereteiből – mindmegannyi jellemvonásai
minden szellemi termékének. A szüntelen, kiapadhatatlan „keresés” néha kínzóan
is jelentkezik, de a „találás” boldogságát gyermeki és túlömlő boldogsággal aknázza
205

ki. Csodával határos, friss ízlése pedig mindkettőnek határt szab. Ő, akinek mindig
volt mondanivalója és gondolata bőséggel, sohasem fecseg, és zenéjében mindig
ki is mondja a lényeget, se nem hosszan, se nem túl röviden. Saját műveinek
önmaga legszigorúbb bírája. Korábbi műveinek oly mennyiségét és minőségét zárja
ki oeuvre-jéből, mint ahogy e cselekedet csak a „legnagyobbak” kisszámú társaságának
sajátja. Olyan műveket, tételeket és részleteket ítél „halálra”, hogy evvel
maga vet fényt az „életre” ítéltekre.
Legjelentősebb korában, mintegy 1909–1940 között tanúja voltam életének.
Alkalmam volt megfigyelhetni, közelről látni működését és hallani nem sokak
számára hallatott hangját. És most, öregedő fejjel kezdem csak megérteni a meg
nem értés miatti kétségbeesett sértettségét, mert nem figyelnek rá, mikor ő oly
tisztán látja a követendő utat minden humánus téren és a leghumánusabban, a
zenéén, az ő magyar zenéjén.
E helyen, ha nem is szívesen, de jónak látom beszámolni első találkozásomról
Bartók Bélával. Nem szívesen. A kis „történetkék” általában – akaratlanul, célzatosság
nélkül, a „történetke” érdekében és az előadó személyének érdeke szerint –
idővel a maguk kedvére meghamisítják a valóságot. Kivételt csak azért teszek, mert
11-12 éves voltam, rendkívül tiszta szándékú és igen érzékeny, induló muzsikus.
Bámuló áhítattal hallgattam Koessler Jánosnak – Bartók zeneszerzéstanárának
– és Herzfeld Viktornak – a Zeneakadémia másik zeneszerzőtanárának,
Bartók tehetsége egyik első elismerőjének – mind gyakrabban elhangzó beszámolóit
családunk asztalánál, valamint a heti kamarazeneestek folyamán, melyeken én
már részt vettem. E leíró beszámolók és a róla ejtett megjegyzések alapján képzeletemben
előre kialakult egy magyar csizmát és magyar ruhát viselő, különös, furcsán
lelkes, érzékeny és ijedten akaratos, csökönyös, [de] érdekes fiatal ember képe.
Persze, hogy fantáziámban sok nem létező tulajdonsággal is elláttam, és ha nem
lelkesedtem érte, ennek két oka volt.
Az első [ok] keresztapám [Koessler] elejtett megjegyzései, ki benne [Bartókban]
akkoriban egy önmagában feleslegesen vajúdó, szerinte hiányos készültségű
és ügyességű forradalmárt látott, előtte tragikomikusnak tűnő „nebántsvirág”- szerű
érzékenységgel párosulva, és ehhez képest – szerinte – nem arányos tehetséggel
megáldva. Nem állítom, hogy Koessler szavait én, a 12 éves fiú hiánytalanul és jól
értelmeztem. Nem is erre fektetem a hangsúlyt. Arra is jól emlékszem, hogy 6 évvel
később – [Bartók] első kvartettjének előadása után – meglepett, hogy Koesslertől
[már] más véleményt hallottam (ezt Koessler emlékének védelmében említem).
A második ok a magyar ruha és csizma volt. Épp akkoriban kinőttem már
abból a primitíven felépített pirosfehérzöld játéknacionalizmusból, melyben minden
magamfajta „pesti” magyar nevelésű fiú naiv vagy üzleti szellemű ifjúsági írók
és hamisított történelmi anekdoták hatása alatt elemista korában alaposan fürdőzött.
Épp ezért – magamat már haladónak és tapasztaltnak ítélve – az 1900- as évek
elején megindult „tulipán- mozgalom” jelszavait, külsőséges megnyilvánulásait és
206

képviselőit olcsóknak minősítettem. A „magyar irón”, a „magyar írótoll”, a „magyar
irka”, a „magyar rajzpapír”, a sok „magyar gyártmány” számomra a szomorúan és
borzasztóan hiányosat, kezdetlegeset, a magyarnak mondott cigányzene az émelygően
bombasztikus vagy kicsinyesen érzelgős „magyar polgári”- érzés zenéjét jelentette.
Eltoltam magamtól – mielőtt megértettem volna – a magyar politikai helyzet
ideológiáját; nem értettem az „ex lexet”, a királyt – aki magyar kellett volna legyen
és [közben] Habsburg császár volt –, az arisztokrata politikusokat, az obstrukció
nyomorult tehetetlenségét. Nem értettem, hogy ami „finom kulturált”, az egyúttal
önző, megvesztegethető is volt, és azt sem hittem el, hogy az ellenzéki Kossuth
Ferenc jobb nívót és „igazságot”, „jó magyarságot” nyújthat. Liszt Ferencet sem
szerettem, nem is értettem, mi a nagyszerű benne, hát még Erkel Ferencet, Huber
Károlyt, Hubay Jenőt, sőt még Hackl N. Lajost sem, ki [az] iskolában tanított
[engem].
És ekkor jön Bartók Béla magyar ruhában, csendesen, félénken, töredezett,
halk hangon és szinte szótlanul, karba font kézzel áll nekidőlve a kottaszekrény
peremének, mialatt az öreg Kunwald Antal, Herzfeld Viktor, Popper Dávid, apám
meg én négy-öt Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven és Brahms művet játszunk egymás
után, 15-20 családtag, zenész és zeneszerető alkotta meghitt, szinte rituális környezetben.
Sokat kellett, hogy bámuljam Bartókot, mert ma is, közel 50 év után, szinte
„berámázva” őrzöm a képet, amely szemembe rögződött. Szép, gyermekesen tiszta
arcát, a dacos és nyakas fejtartást, finom és törékeny testének szoborszerű, de
feszült nyugalmát, amely valami izgalmat kellett, hogy takarjon. Szemeivel –
később egyre rövidlátóbbá lett –, melyekkel órák hosszat félig hunyva – vagy így
figyelve? – elsősorban magába és csak látszólagosan a környezete irányába nézett.119
Magát egy hideg-langyos légréteggel vette körül. Ha valaki megszólította, imént
még lesütött jellegű szemei ijedten nagyra nyíltak. Esetleg kis, finoman meghökkenő
„ja”, vagy „ah”, vagy „óh”, vagy „hohó” szaladt ki torkán, de ezeket alig hallhatóan
és akadozva ejtette, majd vontatott és szürke, halk-érdes hangon, mint aki most
ébredt álmából és teljesen személytelen jelleggel, kurtán válaszolt. Látszott, hogy
mentől előbb az áttört légkör mögé akar bújni. Nem beszélt sem magáról, sem
másról; Koessler és Herzfeld – akiket jól ismert – sem próbáltak ezen változtatni.
Két- három órányi zenefigyelés után csendesen eltűnt.
Én nem voltam tudatában, hogy fordulóponthoz jutottam, pusztán egy ember
megjelenése által, ki úgyszólván meg sem szólalt, kivel én magam szót sem váltottam.
És mintegy hat évvel később, amikor újra találkoztunk, már csak a zene volt
119 [Later addition at the bottom of the page:] Jó néhány évvel később, próbák pihenőjében,
hosszú együttes utazások folyamán, ha olvasástól vagy írástól elfáradva – vonaton is
dolgozott –, vagy a túlfűtött fülkében végre elbeszélgettünk, nem győztem élvezni
mosolygós, szinte huncut nézését, olyan székelyeset, amely mögött egy fiatal, de már
kifejlett, pihenő vizsla bársonyosan nyugalmas bölcs jó szemkifejezése ült.
207

a diskurzus: leginkább az ő zenéje, legfeljebb száraz és objektív zeneterminológia
nyelvén. Közbeesett öt-hat év és 16–17 éves fiatal zenésszé lettem. (11 éves koromban
Hubay növendéke voltam akadémiai osztályban, és 17-tel érettségiztem.)
Zenésszé lettem? [Igen, de] Nem tudatos elhatározás útján. Ahogy ma látom, egész
17 éves életem ide vezetett, és [sic!] noha magam még hinni, nemhogy mondani
nem mertem, [mivel] oly nagy tekintélye volt előttem a zenének. (Ez így maradt
máig.) Családomnak a zenésztársadalomban elfoglalt központi helyzete által a kor
és Európa összes művészeivel személyesen is összetalálkoztam. A legünnepeltebbek
az instrumentalisták és a nagy publikumsikert arató komponisták voltak, díszes
publikumukkal, zajos megjelenésükkel és sikerükkel. Kivétel sok volt. Az öreg
Joachim [József] quartettjével, a Cseh vonósnégyes, [Eugen] d’Albert, [Ferruccio]
Busoni, [continuation missing.]
208

Die 1913 von Guido Adler begründeten Beihefte der Denkmäler der
Tonkunst in Österreich (DTÖ) umfassen Studien, die in direktem
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der Selbst darstellung, sei es im privaten Bereich der Korrespondenz und
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