It has been said that all a Hungarian needs to
get drunk are a glass of water and a Gypsy fiddler. Like many stereotypes
of Hungary, it is one that dies hard. But one stereotype has been disappearing
with alarming speed: the Gypsy violinist, strolling amongst the tables
of fine restaurants laden with grand history. These musicians are fast
becoming a thing of the past, victims of changing tastes, lost somewhere
on Hungary's headlong charge on the road towards Europe.
Contrary to popular misinformation, Hungary is not the "home" of the
Gypsies, but rather one crucible in which Gypsy culture developed and spread
to many other lands. The Gypsies are Hungary's largest ethnic minority
group. Historians and linguists trace their origin to north India, from
which they fled in the eighth century due to war or famine. By the tenth
century the Persian poet Firdusi records them as nomadic musicians, and
by the 11th century they had reached Europe. In their own language they
refer to themselves as Rom, and their language as Romanes. In Hungary there
are two main groups - the so called Musician Gypsies, and the Vlach Gypsies,
distinguished by dialect and traditional occupation.
Gypsy musical prowess has long been noted, and
families of musicians tended to settle down in areas where the demand for
their art was greatest. While preserving the percussive and vocal music
of their own folklore, Gypsies adopted the instruments and repertoire of
the non-Gypsy majority to make a living. In Hungary, this meant following
fashions of the gentry. While Hungarian peasants sang and danced to the
music of the bagpipe, flute, and hurdy-gurdy, Gypsy musicians were often
hired by nobility and provided with the more fashionable violins, violas,
and cellos - considered emblematic of western musical culture. To these
instruments was added the cimbalom, an instrument with a long tradition
in Asia. By the end of the 18th century, Gypsy orchestras were an established
features of Hungarian entertainment.
As the urban areas of Hungary developed, so did Hungarian national consciousness
and literature. One result was a form of composed popular song based on
folk roots - the nota - which swept Hungary in the middle of the
nineteenth century, and remains the backbone of the repertoire to this
day. At the same time, the fast and rhythmic verbunk, (originally
a recruiting dance) became an instrumental showpiece in the hands of virtuostic
primas, or lead fiddlers, such as the famous Janos Bihari. The csardas,
a peasant two-step far removed from the staid dances of the Hapsburg court,
became a veritable dance craze, its popularity rivaling that of other ethnic
dance crazes of the time - the waltz and the polka.
Large professional orchestras comprised of Gypsy musicians began to
appear in the first half of the nineteenth century. History records the
popularity of those led by the famed Czinka Panna, Ferenc Patikarus,
Laci
Racz, and the semi-mythical Czermak. Band members were often
related, giving rise to family dynasties of Gypsy musicians which endure
to this day, such as the Balogh, Berki and Lakatos
families, many of whom have branched into jazz, winning international recognition.
The lot of the professional cafe bands held firmly
during this century. Fifty years ago Budapest was the vacation center for
the high society of Europe, and the presence of Gypsy fiddlers in cafes
and restaurants was an essential ingredient.
Before WWII bands with vast repertoires of notas and csardas were a
feature of the city's grand restaurants. The primas of the Margit Island
Park orchestra, Imre Magyari, was treated like a king in high class
Budapest society, while the famed Pista Danko was known for his
repertoire of songs favored by Budapest's theater elite at the old Mikado
Gardens. Turn of the century students from the university frequented the
Champagne Flask, on Magyar street, to hear the ancient cimbalom player
from Bihari's original band. Famous Gypsy orchestras were a major attraction
at the Wampetics Gardens (now the Gundel) in the City Park, and even today
older Budapest residents reminisce how young lovers would stroll in the
park to listen to the music wafting out of this elegant restaurant. Of
course, none of the better hotels would be without at least two orchestras.
As the gaiety of Budapest nightlife declined following the devastation
of the Second World War, so to did the demand for musicians. Bands found
it less lucrative playing to empty restaurants. The talented youth went
to conservatories, often graduating into the Rajko Gypsy orchestra, a Party
sponsored troupe featuring young Gypsy musicians. Even the gray gloom of
communism could not entirely wipe out Budapest's need for Gypsy music to
accompany wine. Many of the old songs had been banned, and poor indeed
was the primas who did not have an encyclopedic command of outlaw repertoire.
Finding a good Gypsy band in a restaurant is getting
harder today. The Kulacs, on Dohany utca, comes close to the original spirit
of the classic restaurants, as does the Matyas Pince, host to the Lakatos
family dynasty's orchestra. The Gellert Hotel preserves the real atmosphere
of the grand old days when the band strikes up an after dinner tune. Many
first time diners are surprised when the violinist approaches the table
to play. If you don't want to have a violin in your soup course politely
decline. An after dinner bottle of wine, however, is the classic time to
call over the band. Why not ask for "your song?" Discretely slip the primas
a five hundred forint note (western currencies gladly accepted) and make
a request. Suggest the classic Monte Csardas, or the emotional
Hullamzo
Balaton Tetejen ("On the Waves of the Balaton") or the sentimental
Csak
Egy Kislany Van A Vilagon ("There's Only One Girl In the World"). Most
band leaders have an inexhaustible repertoire.
The fashion of an evening of Gypsy violinists accompanying
wine and nota, hardy enough to withstand two centuries of Hungary's turbulent
history, has had a hard time maintaining itself among the young generation.
Many younger Hungarians are more likely to dine on pizza and then slip
out to discos. The Gypsy bands are no longer a ubiquitous part of the Hungarian
cultural landscape. One has to hunt them out, preferably in countryside
inns where tastes have not gone over to the cheesy sounds of the Casio
organ and saxophone, or the all purpose cassette deck. The music is still
out there, and now as ever, still worth the search.