The Politics of Hungary’s Folk Music: Beyond Nationalism and Xenophobia
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By Sammy Loren
Toward Freedom
Friday, Apr 9, 2010
You hear them in Los Angeles, New York, Paris and
Berlin: Punk bands, "world musicians" and cabarets filch Roma, or
Gypsy, Jewish and Balkan melodies, and casually weave them into other
musical traditions. In these metropolises, Eastern European folk music
roosts on the margins, threading together broader Balkan, Jewish and
Roma themes to survive. Yet on the edge of this musical map beats
Budapest, a folk boomtown with thriving Magyar, Roma and the seedlings
of the neo-klezmer scene. In a town where established folk communities
are the norm, do they ever cross-pollinate?
Hungary
is in turmoil. Its socialist premier effectively resigned in March
2009, and darker nationalistic instincts have been resurfacing.
Traditionalist politicians have been evangelizing, calling for a return
to a Christian, family-values society. Amid resentment at the financial
crisis and stalled European Union prosperity, Jobbik, Hungary's
ultra-right-wing party, won 14% of the vote in June's EU parliamentary
elections, scant fewer than the Socialists. Jobbik now holds three of
Hungary's 22 seats in Brussels.
For
artists, at least, volatile times can often be creative, if not
downright inspiring. So are Hungarians - despite the political and
economic situation - expanding their folk frontiers to include Jewish
and Gypsy musical elements?
"If someone
wishes to make a living playing music, he or she must study the music
of all of Hungary's communities," said Endre Maruzsenszki, the lead
fiddler of Budapest folk band Coffee and Milk. "Which is difficult," he
added between sets at RS9, a bar known for its live acts, "as it once
included Transylvanians, Slovakians, Germanic and Balkan people."
Today, mainly ethnic Hungarians, Roma and Jews comprise these communities.
"If
you're Jewish, we play klezmer. If you're Gypsy, then Central
Carpathian songs. If you're Hungarian, then folk music," Maruzsenszki
said.
But in Hungary, communities mingle less than one would imagine.
Roma,
marginalized and poor, suffer legendary discrimination. Jews, though
mostly assimilated and more affluent than the Roma, are by no means
free from antisemitism. Though mistrust runs deep between the two
minorities, they share an enemy: the far right. The Hungarian Guard, an
armed paramilitary associated with the Jobbik party, has attacked and
killed Roma since 2008. The violence continues with fire bombings and
shootings, and with the Jobbik party scapegoating "Gypsy crime" for
Hungary's problems. Many point to Jobbik's popularity as the bellwether
for a resurgent antisemitism. Indeed, days before the June 2009 EU
parliamentary elections, Krisztina Morvai, a law professor at Budapest
University and one of Jobbik's top candidates, was quoted by the
Guardian as saying, "So-called proud Hungarian Jews should go back to
playing with their tiny little circumcised tails." No apology was
issued, and Morvai now serves in the EU parliament.
Veronika
Szekely, the 19 year old leader of Fel Vono, has a different take.
After fiddling through a show at Budavári Művelődési Ház, a cultural
center overlooking the Danube, she explained that her group plays
"authentic" folk. "We play traditional music only," she wrote in a
follow up e-mail. "Our aim is to keep our traditions alive."
Lusting
for authenticity to the exclusion of foreign influences, Balkan musical
guru Bob Cohen argues, is somewhat expected of local acts.
Hungarian
folk bands become "crystallized by their demands for 'authenticity' in
a way that stunts growth," Cohen explained. "On the other hand, Gypsy
music is always changing, and Jewish music is also in flux, catering to
the demands of its audience."
Cohen, who
has nested in Budapest and researched Eastern Europe music since 1988,
believes that one reason for this is that minority music doesn't need
to reflect "cultural purity" as defined by the mainstream. Media
thought control sounds strangely authoritarian, but then again, Hungary
did languish under secret police, informants and dictatorship for
nearly 45 years.
While it's difficult to find Hungarian musicians whose music mixes with the other communities, it's not impossible.
Julius
Brody, the pomaded and pencil-mustachioed pianist at Zangora Bar in
Budapest, played "If I Were a Rich Man," "Sunrise, Sunset" and, before
breaking, "Matchmaker": songs from musical Fiddler On The Roof. Not
exactly traditional, but maybe as close to a musical powwow as there
comes in today's Budapest.
"Jewish, Hungarian and Gypsy," he proclaimed, like a New Age sage, "it's all the same."
Sammy Loren is documentary filmmaker and
journalist currently based in Los Angeles. He spent last year working
in Europe. For more information, visit his blog: www.sammyloren.wordpress.com
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