Kodaly

It is impossible to separate the music of Zoltán Kodály from its Hungarian roots. Along with Franz Liszt and Béla Bartók, Kodály is one of the most visible musicians to come out of Hungary. Unlike Lizst, whose life was removed from Hungarian culture, Kodály took his experiences growing up in the Hungarian countryside and translated them to his music. Born to amateur musicians in the Hungarian city of Kecskemét in December 1882, Kodály began his musical studies at an early age. From his father he learned to play violin, and he gained his first exposure to the folk songs that would comprise much of his life’s work as a mere elementary school child. In 1905, Kodály came in contact with another Hungarian musician who shared his fascination for folk song; Béla Bartók. These two men were lifelong friends and supported each other in their artistic endeavors. While critics considered Kodaly an imitation of Bartók, Bartók himself was unstinting in his praise and support of Kodály’s composition.[i] Meeting Bartók was one of the defining moments in Kodály’s career and profoundly affected the rest of his life as a musician. Many of the folk songs he collected during his collaborations with Bartok showed in his compositional works.

Kodály’s Psalmus Hungaricus for tenor, chorus and orchestra is just such a work. Prior to the world premiere of the piece in 1923, the composer had not experienced much public success. This was due in large part to the events of World War I and the political unrest that Hungary was experiencing. Psalmus Hungaricus appeared out of this turbulence and could be seen as the composer’s response to the upheaval Hungary and the world was experiencing. The text of this work is taken from Psalm 55, which is a fervent plea for divine justice and salvation from the Lord. The libretto is in Hungarian and the music follows, with lyrical melodies based in the character of Hungarian folk songs. The name Psalmus Hungaricus is eminently suitable, as Hungarian folk song pattern are always present in some form throughout the work.[ii] The pattern of the Hungarian folk song is most clear where Kodály is dealing with the text. There is a stronger accent on the beginnings of words and the composer also uses the arched moeldoy lines and longer phrases typical of traditional Hungarian music. This piece is classified as an oratorio and the text alone confirms that belief. It is roughly twenty-three minutes in length and each component of the work is allowed their moment to shine. Perhaps the tenor is given more material, but the orchestra and the chorus are also given lovely melodies and exciting passages.

I am very much in favor of this work. I find that I am drawn to folk music in classical composition and this piece is no exception. Upon listening to the work, I get a sense of vibrancy from the melody, the harmony and the colors of the orchestra Kodály uses. The opening of the oratorio is so dramatic with the huge chords from the brass and the escalating tension in the strings. He gets the listener to invest in the very beginning of the piece, but then he drastically scales back everything, leaving a single oboe. He continues this alternation and then brings in the chorus. They’re so hushed that they seem to be whispering. I love the way Kodály celebrates the quiet, beautiful, songlike moments, but is not afraid to give the orchestra free rein. He alternates the divine simplicity with the huge, bombastic orchestral colors, giving the listener a sense of tension and pulling them in with the excitement. Another interesting aspect of the piece is the different modes Kodály incorporates. One of the characteristics of traditional Hungarian music is the use of the pentatonic scale. This is something the listener hears in the Psalmus Hungaricus.

I would actually like to add this piece to the canon. There are several things to recommend it. I would first like to point out that it is an example of a 20th century Hungarian oratorio. While Bartók is an example of a marvelous Hungarian composer, I feel that Kodály offers another look at the sophisticated composition of this nation. Bartók’s music comes from a much more instrumental point of view, whereas Kodály is concerned primarily with writing vocal composition. Kodály also uses a more contained harmonic palette and focuses primarily on melody in his composition, as opposed to Bartók’s adventures in rhythm and harmony. Rather than pit these composers against one another, I feel allowing them each a place would be a fitting tribute to their talents as these men have indelibly enriched the fields of composition, musicology, and music education.[iii] Psalmus Hungaricus is also an excellent example of a 20th century oratorio, and is possibly the only oratorio written by a Hungarian composer. I would also like to include the work simply because it is so engaging and connects extraordinarily well with an audience.


[i] Marianne D. Birnbaum, “Bartók, Kodály and the Nyugat” ed. Gyorgy Ranki, Bartok and Kodaly Revisted (Budapest: Akademiai Kiado, 1987) 61
[ii] Laszlo Vikar, “On the Folk Music Arrangements of Bartók and Kodály” ed. Gyorgy Ranki, Bartok and Kodaly Revisted (Budapest: Akademiai Kiado, 1987) 105
[iii] Laszlo Vikar, “Along Kodály’s Path” Studia Musicologica Academiae Scientiarum Hungaricae (Budapest: Akademiai Kiado, 1983) 15

Maria Szymanowska’s Nocturne in B-flat is a lovely and lyrical piece that melds the musical idioms of the Classical era with the emerging sensibilities of the Romantic period. The Nocturne exhibits the charm and delicate order found in Classical works at its beginning, but slowly relaxes into the more lush harmonies and textures of the Romantic style. It almost seems as if Szymanowska is welcoming in Romanticism, embracing and exploring the upcoming changes in the musical scenery. Upon listening to some of her work, it becomes clear why she has become more well-known and people acclaim her music. A listener finds much to gravitate towards in Szymanowska’s music, especially as her work slowly unfolds from a subtle and pretty to something passionate and more expansive.

Victoria makes a comparison between the works of Szymanowska and John Field, who she is often paired with due to the similarities in their style of composition. Victoria expresses a clear preference for the music of Szymanowska over the “comparatively dry in emotion” sonatas of John Field. While I agree that the musicality of a piece does owe something to the performer, I believe that Szymanowska’s composition is the main contributor to the musical ideas here. As one of the first piano virtuosos of the Romantic era, Szymanowska was undoubtedly composing to show the pianist of to the maximum advantage. The music she writes is filled with opportunities for the soloist to grab the attention of the audience and inspire them. Szymanowska made her living from her piano skills and writing music that showcased her talents would have been obvious for a seasoned performer. In a side speculation, the Nocturne was written in 1852. At that time, Szymanowska was permanently established in St. Petersburg, making one wonder if any of the emerging traditions of Russia were influences or inspirations.

Another point from Victoria’s journal that I would like to address is the issue of Robert Schumann’s comments on Szymanowska. Like Victoria, I accept the description of Szymanowska as the “feminine Field.” In light of the evidence identifying her as Field’s pupil, I consider the comment a valid statement on the style and influences evident in Szymanowska’s work. I am, however, having difficulties with the phrase “vacillating woman.” When one looks up the definition of vacillating in the dictionary, one finds that the word means to swing indecisively from one course of action or opinion to another. Listening to the Nocturne, the shifts in style are deliberate and the composer has a clear vision and point of view. The use of the word vacillating suggests that Schumann has taken the traditional view of women in the 19th century and used it to dismiss Szymanowska. When coupled with comment “if she only knew how,” the phrase ‘vacillating woman” feels like a cheap shot. I, however, will try to be understanding. When this piece was composed, Schumann was in the midst of a period of increased productivity and it is to be expected that he would have been distracted by his work and the continuously alternating musical and mental landscapes.