While Béla Bartók is respected as the foremost Hungarian composer of the 20th century, Ernő Dohnányi, until recently, has been subject to neglect, at least in proportion to his significance. Sure, Bartók and his friend, Zoltán Kodály, were at the forefront of the whole nationalist movement, traipsing around the countryside in order to document authentic folk traditions before they were swallowed up forever by industrialization. But as director of the Budapest Academy of Music and music director of the Budapest Philharmonic Orchestra, Dohnányi would exert as much influence over his country’s musical development as that of his folk music-mad friends and contemporaries
Unfortunately, he would become the target of character assassination campaigns after World War II, in which he was painted as a Nazi sympathizer. Dohnányi was investigated and cleared several times by the U.S. Military Government, and in fact has been defended as a forgotten hero of Holocaust resistance, since it was through his administrations that countless Jewish musicians survived. Also, between the wars, he went to bat for Kodály, a leftist, by refusing to fire him from the Budapest Academy. As a result, Dohnányi too lost his position, albeit temporarily. Nevertheless, he continued to be eyed with suspicion, and his slandered reputation never fully recovered.
Equally fatal is the fact that much of his music bears a more cosmopolitan stamp than that of the Hungarian composers of his era that are now so celebrated. His composition teacher, the German-born Hans von Koessler (known in Hungary as János Koessler), was a cousin of Max Reger. Of course, Koessler also taught Bartók and Kodály. But Dohnányi was perfectly happy nestled in the world of Brahms. For his international career, he assumed the name Ernst von Dohnanyi.
I’ve always been partial to Sir Malcolm Sargent’s recording of Dohnanyi’s gorgeous Serenade in F sharp minor, with the London Symphony Orchestra. Unfortunately, the sound file doesn’t seem to be posted anywhere. For as much as I appreciate the existence of this CD, the performance is a comparatively weak substitute – in my humble opinion, of course:
In the meantime, nice to have discovered this live performance of Dohnanyi’s best-known piece, the “Variations on a Nursery Tune,” with André Previn conducting. The soloist is the Brazilian pianist Cristina Ortiz, cute as a button. The piece has its share of “inside” musical jokes, but the best one must be the agonizingly portentous build-up to the pianist’s first entrance – here complete with a stroll through the cemetery, beneath the chilly gaze of an ominous medieval castle!
Furthermore, the entire orchestra appears to be dressed as Captain Kirk.
Happy birthday, Ernő Dohnányi. Energize!
PHOTO: Dohnányi (left), boldly taking the train with Bartók
