STRAUSS TO LEVENTE GYÖNGYÖSI

What is the meaning of life? What is the nature of the universe? Is there salvation and eternal truth?

Is there such as a thing as human development, or is civilisation simply treading water? These are questions that have occupied thinkers since the drawn of humanity, including the likes of scientists, philosophers, writers and composers. Yet what has this got to do with a concert at Bartók Spring? The Sceptical Spirit, the concert of the Budafok Dohnanyi Orchestra, promises similarly philosophical depths, with an exciting programme based on questions of this nature. By

Endre Tóth

WHAT WOULD THE SUN’S HAPPINESS AMOUNT TO IF IT HAD NO ONE TO SHINE ON?

Ancient myths and legends, even religions themselves, were born out of the need to find answers to the pressing questions of who we are, where we came from, why we’re here and what is our purpose and task. The brilliant thinker, René Descartes held that thought is a prerequisite for cognisance and that one of the fundamental expressions of thought is doubt – or, as the French philosopher called it, ‘methodic doubt’. Based on these premises, Descartes saw God’s existence as proven, his conclusion in its entirety reading ‘I doubt, therefore I think; I think, therefore I am; I am, therefore God exists.’

A salient example of the relationship between philosophy and music is Also sprach Zarathustra, one of Richard Strauss’s most famous symphonic poems; its eponymous character (Zoroaster in the Greek version) was a Persian prophet who founded a religion in pre-Christian times. Having studied his teachings, Friedrich Nietzsche wrote one of the best-known philosophical works of all time, and its language – which is filled to the brim with musicality – captured Strauss’s creative imagination. In Nietzsche’s work, Zarathustra is the eternal denier whose response to every notion is to underline its futility. Leaving his home, he moves into the mountains, where he spends his days in contemplation for ten years. Eventually, however, his heart yearns for something more and one morning he steps into the Sun and declares, ‘Thou great star! What would be thy happiness if thou hadst not those for whom thou shinest!’ Strauss launches his symphonic poem with the introduction of the musical nature motif (C–G–C’), radiating eternal, universal order.

Just as in Descartes’ philosophy, Zarathustra is a doubting, critical thinker, but his doubts lead to destructiveness: in the course of his allegorical journey, he dismisses religion, morality, science, desires, joys and passions and, in the words of music historian András Batta, ‘melts away happily and alone in the harmony of the universe’. Back to nature, one might say. The C major theme representing the universe, which continually rears its head throughout Strauss’s symphonic poem, is irreconcilable and incompatible with the B tonality of the mortal world that seems so near, and yet is still so distant.

LUCIFER, THE ANCIENT SPIRIT OF DENIAL

It is doubt that drives Lucifer in John Milton’s epic poem Paradise Lost. In the work originally published in 1667, Milton portrays the fallen angel as an ambitious, proud creature who is not afraid to confront God, and consequently the view understandably arose in later times that the author was actually siding with Satan in his writing. The first part of Milton’s work describes Lucifer’s battle with God, while the second relates Adam and Eve’s fall into sin and their regret after tasting the fruit of the tree of knowledge – as a result of Adam’s imaginary journey. After their expulsion from the Garden of Eden, an angel tells the first human couple they may also find Paradise within themselves and that they may remain in touch with God. Just as Nietzsche did at the end of the 19th century, Milton was already questioning numerous articles of faith in the 17th century, contrasting predestination with free will.

The idea of human development is also a familiar motif in Hungarian literature, expressed in Imre Madách’s dramatic poem The Tragedy of Man, with Lucifer, the ‘ancient spirit of denial’, again appearing as one of its driving forces. Therefore Levente Gyöngyösi was faced with no small task when he decided to write an opera brimming with oratorical elements based on Madách’s worldrenowned work. Apart from the familiar characters from Madách’s story, one of the winners of Müpa’s 2020 Composition Competition, Tragœdia temporis features a new protagonist, the Child, a figure Gyöngyösi derived from a messianic image portrayed in the Book of Proverbs.

Equally rich in tone as the composer’s previous opera, The Master and Margarita, the first act of the work presented here deals with events up to the expulsion from Paradise. The divine and supernatural episodes draw on the traditions of classical music, while the human scenes are inspired by popular musical genres. The duality of the musical world of Also sprach Zarathustra thus assumes a different form in Gyöngyösi’s piece.

Hope Instead Of Doubt

‘The logic of the Child is self-evidently childish. And yet we can say that the Child has a deep and mature knowledge of the world, in the sense we no longer possess. At the same time, in reality, the Child has still seen very little of the world. This dichotomy makes the Child a cosmic character’, explains Gyöngyösi. Like Zarathustra, the Child withdraws from the world. ‘According to Madách, doubt and critical thinking move the world forward. However, in itself, doubt is not productive. It’s precisely for this reason that to me, Lucifer is a humourless, monomaniacal, obsessive figure’, adds the composer.

The conclusion of the four-act Tragœdia temporis will also depart from Madách’s pessimistic admonition (‘I told you, man: fight, trust and be full of hope!’), instead ending with a thought from Christ’s Sermon on the Mount, ‘Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the Earth.’ For Gyöngyösi, this is a far more radical assertion in our age. Though we may be embittered at the world around us, we can withdraw into ourselves – after Milton, and even Comenius, freely: we can find Paradise in our hearts. As long as we have friends and we’re surrounded by like-minded people, there is hope. What we make of this opportunity is up to us.

Gustave Doré: ’O, Earth, how like to Heaven, if not preferred more justly’ (detail). | Source: John Milton: Paradise Lost. Illustrated by Gustave Doré. New York – London – Paris, 1866, Cassell, Petter, Galpin & Co.

12 April | 7.30pm

Müpa Budapest – Béla Bartók National Concert Hall

THE SCEPTICAL SPIRIT

Gábor Hollerung and the Budafok Dohnanyi Orchestra

R. Strauss: Also sprach Zarathustra

Milton: Paradise Lost – excerpt

Levente Gyöngyösi: Tragœdia Temporis I – based on Imre Madách’s dramatic poem, The Tragedy of Man – world premiere

Featuring: Gabriella Balga, Zoltán Megyesi, Eszter Zemlényi, Csaba Sándor, Krisztián Cser – voice, Eszter Ónodi – prose

Featuring: Budafok Dohnanyi Orchestra, Cantemus Choral Institute Nyíregyháza

(choirmaster: Soma Szabó), Pro Musica Girls’

Choir (choirmaster: Dénes Szabó)

Conductor: Gábor Hollerung

Host: Sándor Lukács

Libretto: Judit Ágnes Kiss

Concept, dramaturgy: András Visky

31 MARCH | 1PM

Ludwig Museum –Museum of Contemporary Art

BORIS LURIE & WOLF VOSTELL: ART AFTER THE SHOAH

PLAYING WITH THE UNSPEAKABLE Confrontational and unsettling, confusing and thought-provoking, an important new exhibition at the Ludwig Museum offers a wholly unique perspective on one of Western culture’s greatest catastrophes, the Shoah. American Boris Lurie and German Wolf Vostell both began working on radical Holocaust-related projects from the end of the 1950s, the primary goal of which was to both remember and remind. Both artists felt that broad layers of society did not appropriately handle and process all the horrors that had essentially taken place before their eyes for years. Born in Leningrad, Lurie experienced concentration camps first hand, and would go on to combine terrible images of war with photos of advertising dominating everyday life, in a harsh critique of the self-protecting reflexes of contemporary society in processing problems and trauma. Having fled the Nazis to Czech lands, Vostell considered it his sole mission on returning to Germany after the war to remind German society of the sins committed during the global conflagration, which in his eyes had been inadequately processed. The exhibition of works from these two artists can be seen in Hungary for the first time in this form. The effect of these raw and bold works has been likened by some to shock therapy, directing the attention of the viewer to both the continuity of violence and the importance of humanist values.

The exhibition is on view between 1 April and 30 July.

14 APRIL | 10AM Museum of Fine Arts

CSONTVÁRY 170

CSONTVÁRY, THE ALCHEMIST OF THE CANVAS

He was born 170 years ago, in 1853, the same year as Vincent van Gogh – and though we bow our heads to van Gogh’s sunflowers, the hearts of Hungarians beat a little faster for Csontváry’s lonely cedar, and of course for the other wonders imagined and painted by the artist. He was over fourty before he swapped his trade as a pharmacist for paintbrushes: on seeing his sketch of a cart on the back of a prescription paper, his superior told him he was born to be a painter. Happily clutching his first drawing, Csontváry heard a voice behind him say ‘You will be the greatest sunway-painter in the world, greater than Raphael.’

And yet the imaginary voice did not lie, for he remains one of the few artists whose distinctive works we recognise at once even if we’ve never seen them before. Confronted with the extraordinary cavalcade of colour, the dazzling yellows, burning reds, greying pinks and piercing blues, we can only concur with Pablo Picasso, who with an excited exclamation declared Csontváry to be the century’s other painter genius. He was a legendary figure who worked tirelessly on promoting his own myth, an integral part of which was the extensive and dangerous travel he undertook from Taormina to Athens and from Gibraltar to Bethlehem and beyond, all captured in his paintings.

Like so many great artists, Csontváry was treated unfairly in his own time: despite having several exhibitions in Budapest in the 1900s, ‘eccentric’ was only the mildest epithet attached to him by uncomprehending critics, and he was unable to sell a single painting during his lifetime. Contemporaries viewed his habits with suspicion: it was common knowledge that he was mainly a vegetarian, while his plan for a grand-scale silkworm breeding project was not an unqualified success either. The sins of a narrow-minded era are today offset by the large number of museum visitors, as the Museum of Fine Arts pays tribute with a major exhibition marking the anniversary of his birth. Finally we get to see the symbol-creating ‘sunway-painter’ and lover of colour in a new light.

1 AND 5 APRIL | 7.30PM

Liszt Academy – Grand Hall

DÉNES VÁRJON AND THE CONCERTO BUDAPEST

PARALLELS BETWEEN BACH, BARTÓK AND BEETHOVEN

Bartók Spring offers us again a chance to hear the Concerto Budapest ensemble led by András Keller: on this occasion, they continue their Bartók series began last year, building on novel spiritual and musical connections. Two concerts with the Kossuth Prize–winning pianist Dénes Várjon provide a glimpse into the historical musical roots of Bartók’s music, through the works of Bach and Beethoven.

The working relationship and friendship between orchestra and pianist is not new. The series began in 2022 with a performance of Bartók’s Piano Concertos Nos. 2 and 3, while this year they perform his Piano Concerto No. 1 and two early works, the Scherzo and the Rhapsody. ‘I’m very attracted to early Bartók, his search for a path, his incredible courage’, revealed Várjon in an interview with Papageno magazine this year. ‘His own language is already there, but the influence of his predecessors Franz Liszt and Richard Strauss can also still be felt, it’s fantastic!’ The pianist will personally perform the solo parts of the two early works for the first time on stage.

The second concert closes with Beethoven’s Symphony No. 6 from 1808, which nearly suffered an unfortunate fate after it debuted together with the hugely successful Symphony No. 5. Rich in images from nature, this bold programme music would only subsequently become the frequently heard work familiar to Bartók.

4 APRIL | 7.30PM

Liszt Academy – Grand Hall

BENJAMIN EREDICS: CASTLES, WARRIORS, FRONTIERS – PREMIERE

Love In A Time Of Ottoman Rule

Castles, Warriors, Frontiers, incidental music for dance theatre by Benjamin Eredics, was a category winner at the Müpa 2020 Composition Competition and the music material will be heard in its entirety for the first time at Bartók Spring. Eredics calls the Grand Hall of the Liszt Academy his home, having taught tambura at the Folk Music Department for years. Together with his brothers, he is also a member of the Szentendre-based Söndörgő, a group specialising in Southern Slavic music that is regularly featured at the top of world music charts, touring throughout the world several times over the years.

Eredics’s work is based on István Fekete’s novel The Testament of the Agha of Koppány and the film of the same title, evoking the world of the 16th century Turkish occupation in Hungary and combining love and intrigue, Spahis and Giaours. The composer’s diverse experience guarantees the seamless integration of folk instruments and symphony orchestra, along with past and current students of the Liszt Academy who, under the guidance of Gergely Ménesi, provide the musical accompaniment to the historical story. Géza Hegedűs D., who took part in a radio adaptation of The Testament of the Agha of Koppány in 1978, assumes the role of the narrator.