LIGHT IN A WATER-DROP

Published in a Kodály Seminar Booklet in Kecskemét, 1991

A Hungarian folksong from Transylvania collected by Béla Bartók

I live on the shore of the Tisza, Come, my angel, come to me!
I hear only the murmuring of the silent river.
If I were a river, I wouldn't know sorrow,
Between hills, between valleys, singing I would walk.
Two ways are before me, which shall I choose?
I have two lovers, which of them shall get my farewells?
If one gets my farewells, the other will take offence,
Thus my poor heart will never take a rest.
My court, my court, my beautiful round court,
My feeble arms will never more sweep you.

Drawing by Villő Nagy

From the brooklet to the ocean
November 6, 1986 “Resedas”
Aria for tenor voice from the opera "Partenope" (Act 3) by Handel

Balázs is lying on my legs. It is the fifth time he is listening to our music, voiceless, with open eyes. He is gazing into the air, without a movement. I also do not move, I am breathing with him. Everything is all right, he is not strained, not nervous but he needs me. He must be walking in the bottom of his heart. Finally, he heaves a sigh, gets up and begins to dance. He leans forward, pushes up his trunk with winding movements. (Dolphins swim like that?) He is in continuous movement, in rhythm with the orchestra and parallel with the melody of the singer. I have seen deep-sea creatures moving that way. His motion is enchantingly steady, it does not stop, there is no rest, it is not even needed, life for him is eternal motion.

Balázs: “I was a brooklet and flew into a creek, then into a river and into a big stream, and went into the ocean; then again back to the big stream, into the river, into the creek and finally back into the brooklet.” - He thinks a little bit and adds: “Like this music.”

LIGHT IN A WATER-DROP

I gave this title to my memories written about Kodály. They are printed in English and Swedish but not yet in Hungarian. It is very good to a water-drop; I love to be a water-drop.

On my ways in the world I have been learning and teaching at several places, thousands of little lights are flashing in my water-drop.

Since the time I am able to remember I have been surrounded by beautiful music, I have been nurtured, brought up, loved and taught with real music. My inner world is centered on children. They are those to whom I convey music, for whom I take it, fly it, smoothen it, roll it, vitalize, hide and expound it. I can shine in its sparkling and rest in its light.

I teach music, since I found education to be my own art. The delightful experiences gained by teaching renew me, stimulate my growth and refresh me. Garcia Lorca said: “The Duende never repeats itself, as in the sea the shapes of the waves are never the same.” The values of the art of music are repeatedly reborn by every recital and each case we enter into their depths. Similarly, teaching music is also new every time when I meet a child.

In my book I am talking about rebirths I experienced in the last fifteen years, about waves which never repeat themselves, but flood and shape themselves, dash against and hold on to each other, ever anew.

Composing and reciting music is the combination of art and professional skill. The factors of profession are: training, accurately directed instruction and practice. The factors of art are aided by inspiration and imagination. Children move more homely in art, since imagination is their world. They receive the messages of music by their imagination, through inspired encounters, contacts and experiences. Experience moves the children’s heart. It chisels their spirit and helps blossoming out their forms of expressing themselves.

At the beginning music is an unknown flux but if I lift a passage of it to my children, they become familiar with it through their skin, by the vibration of their bones and body fluids, more deeply with every repetition. They gaze at the magic carpet woven from sounds in an intimate relation to it and build to it reality, dreams and fairy tales. In our world sinking among confused and chaotic stimuli they learn to unite their contemplative attention on a focus.

They manifest themselves first in movements. From these do evolve the scene, the presentation of the drama, their words, the “logos”. Music gives beauty, purity, truth into their hands and makes them vibrating in their body. In this way they can approach even “big music” about which grown-up persons usually think that children cannot understand it. This would hardly be possible by explanation and analysis; however, in this way they are able to receive it, get insight into it, and take it under the wings of their imagination.

The order of our lessons is a support, a framework and, if necessary, a handhold. Receiving children, parents or guests is always personal. In playing and romping about the children are protected, they may safely express themselves, attention and respect is given to them to bring forth their creation, and liberty to make contacts. We believe them and appreciate what is specific, individual, particular and unique in them. Once this is felt by them, they take wings.

In the chapters of my book I wish to recount the adventures and experiences of my teaching, to present my children and myself, together with my concerns and blooming. I gave flower-names to my children’s groups. The smallest ones (four years old) are the “Mimosas”, the more advanced the “Bluebells”, and the still older ones are the “Resedas”. The oldest ones who have been joining us often since five, six, or even eight years are the “Blooming Carnations”. Since often families come to us, we can also deal with the small brothers who then grow up to our common work.

We have repeatedly received crowds of guests never as an audience but always to be participants. We learn empathy with foreigners, acquaintances and friends. We bend towards the fountain-head and drink up each other with pure music. This is what our films, video-programs deal with, by freshly born scenes in the fleeting minutes, which can never again be reproduced.

The name of our foundation wishes to conclude and unite music, exhilaration and our attention toward one another in a Greek work, "AGAPE".

In the following you may read some excerpts from my book being under preparation.

CONVERSATION IN ATHENS

The discussion that we began with the Bostonians was picked up again in the autumn with my students in Athens. Their open-hearted and inquiring way of thinking produced many enjoyable conversations. Some of them were graduates from the Kodály, Orff, Dalcroze or Suzuki courses, and so they had an extensive understanding of how musical talent can be developed. The diversity of their characters and experience produced lots of new aspects and fresh questions. I let my responses mature for days in the enchanting tranquility of their Aegean autumn.

Sophia: “In musical education we develop abilities and skills, for example on instruments the performing abilities, such as music reading, since we teach mostly from notes. If you don’t teach either score or instrument, what do you aim for?”

“You can approach music by developing the performing abilities. The instrument is a manifest, concrete reality. And the same applied to musical knowledge, since music is the composition of teachable elements with cognizable and explainable structures it is possible to teach instrumental knowledge only - in fact it is done so at several places. But the more skills any method can introduce and teach the more effective the results are. The so-called Kodály-method teaches a sensible, analytical hearing for music by relying on memory, internal imagination, singing skills and musical notation and reading, and at the same time it also develops instrumental abilities.

This kind of training is successful and efficient, but Kodály’s ideas present a much broader potential. However, the realization of these ideas has so far been limited by the existing educational circumstances. Wherever an ideology is imposed on people, spirit as a rule becomes subjected to matter and fantasy tends to be considered a dangerous deviation. During the past four decades we had no other choice but to live in pretence. Although you can’t tell lies about Bach or Kodály, you still can make a selection from their opuses and patch together a boring must from the rest. Children shudder at boring things, yet, regrettably, they can be cured of using their mind and free opinion, original thoughts and creative fantasy in an astonishingly short time. My musical pedagogy wants to defend their rights by relying on the freedom of their intellectual power moved by fantasy.”

Olga: “Why fantasy? Why not knowledge?”

“Knowledge is a long stairway the top of which can hardly be seen. Your fantasy is a strong wind, which grabs you and drops you in the middle of music just to let you drink from it and bathe in it. Music is the primary reality of the child.”

“Shouldn’t they learn knowledge?”

“You just can’t stop them, as learning is part and parcel of their life; they are saturated with the desire for knowledge. Imagination, transformation, poetry, magic and tales are all guiding children towards knowledge. Nothing but the compulsory, the must and the boring and dry lessons can make them turn their back on learning.”

Giannis: “Isn’t musical talent a kind of knowledge? Isn’t a concrete reality? Isn’t it measurable?”

“It is not measurable, only intangible. It’s just like rainbow: a large mass of water-drops around the sunbeams. The aptitude tests simply give me the goose-pimples. There are those well-disposed teachers who make every effort to scrutinize the musical talents of six-year-old children. What they do is grasp for the rainbow.”

“But they have to pick out the gifted children”

“Their means are imperfect, since they measure the surface instead of the depth. Musical abilities come to light slowly, in a thousand ways as they are immeasurably diverse."

“What do you mean by that? Isn’t good ear for music a clear indication of musical talent?”

“It may be an indication of that, but a good ear for music can simply be the result of good training. The six-year-old boy, who burst into tears and wet his pants through fear when he was taking the entrance examination to the Radio Choir, was probably not trained for acting on the stage. For all that he may have had exceptional affinity, sensibility and deep leaning towards music, which was impossible for him to make manifest. Such types of tests do not exist. Musicality is like a mystic crystal which shows its surface only. The facets grow bright from the light of music. Now, the kind of music is again something that depends on the individual. On the Isle of Crete I met a boy, who was given his first cathartic experience by Mahler’s Symphony No. I. at the age of 17. He had never heard classical music before. He didn’t play any instrument, either. Now, at the age of 28 he is a collector of records and cassettes, and an exemplarily-informed music fan of highly developed taste. He is the audience at the concerts. He is the recipient.”

Kostas: “Shouldn’t we then teach instrument or score”

“Studying instrument is a pleasure of a higher grade, its benefits, practical results and personality-forming power can not be enumerated. In highly developed civilizations it is part of the culture. All those who can afford it should study instrumental music, and those who can’t do that should sing. The latter people have their beautiful instrument in their own body. The finest lesson of Kodály’s method is singing, the means of poetic expression, elevating relaxation and spiritual retuning for all nations. Instrumental music and singing help us enrich our musical perspicacity. The perspectives here range from the womb to the coffin, and the repertoire seems to be shoreless like the sea.”

“Do you sing to your pupils?”

“Singing is a primary heritage of mine; my mother was always singing to us and the village-folks were singing along with my father. I can’t remember any period in my life when singing would have left me. Singing is as natural for me as breathing or speaking, as a sigh or a laugh. I sing for myself leaning against a tree on the Pilis hillside, I sing my favorites to the wine-colored Greek sea or the icy waterfall of Iceland. Also, I sing at home for the sink, to the accompaniment of the clinking plates. Of course I’ll sing to children who are the most precious for me.

I sing them children’s songs full of fun, just as ballads with tragic subject or ancient, spoken songs of free rhythm which I have learnt from fresh collections of Transylvanian folk-songs. When I sing from my soul and my feelings, children easily come with me easily to remote universes. We sing good-bye to each other by candlelight touching each other and relaxing in a familiar intimacy. Our singing covers wide domains, since children, too, have to cope with the feelings of love, sorrow, parting, death and losses, and they also face suspense and resolution just like we. They are overrun by countless feelings day by day or at night in their unspoken fears. Where can you find a family free from all these parts of the human experience? The drama, the darkness, the lamentation sung in an artistic voice is thicker and more shocking but at the same time it is more comforting than reality. The fears and complaints of loneliness wrapped up in a beautiful melody sung by someone leaving home make us aware of our own everyday fears. Those emotions are universal and thus open the strap-hinge of the gate leading to the resolution. From emotion of an unknown oppression we get to live waters. All civilizations and ages from fetal state to declining years share the human heritage of singing. My pedagogy would be inconceivable without it.”

Orpheas: “In your lessons you all dance in silence, and the sound comes from tape. Why?”

“I have worked upon this invention of mine for one and a half decades, because I realized that children are surprisingly keen on receiving great opuses, provided that they can move freely. This is not DANCE in its classical sense. DANCE is usually a series of learnt movements. We never learn movements. DANCE is an esthetic eurhythmy matched to the music. The aesthetic quality of movements is not important for us; it is out of the question, as our purpose is to absorb music with the help of the movements. DANCE is created in a certain style. We don’t go by stylistic criteria; we just let ourselves move freely either to African drums or to Mozart. Any kind of movement is acceptable, provided that it is genuine and soul-felt.

DANCING demands particular movements which encompass all physical capabilities, muscles, strength, co-ordination, nimbleness, capacity, flexibility, quickness, liveliness. With us one can express oneself irrespective of one’s physical abilities. Even the physically handicapped or the crippled can, participate. Of course, music comes from tape, since we don’t have live performers. And we dance silently, because music can be listened to in silence only.”

Giannis: “How do you instruct your pupils?”

“I don’t give them instructions. Instead I create the necessary conditions, which involve not only the place but also the spiritual setting, above all the sense of security. My task is to teach them how to respect each other and how to pay attention to music. They are never allowed to hamper, hurt or disturb one another and making fun of the others is considered a cardinal sin. Mockery is forbidden, and so is pooh-poohing. Each solution has to be respected, since it is individual, coming from one's own inventions.”

“How do you criticize?”

“I never criticize them. My criticism would paralyze their creativity. It would make them strive to meet my taste this way putting a check on their thoughts instead of letting them sail with the wind.”

Maria: “How can they develop without feedback?”

“The feedback is always there, in the form of my full and whole-hearted attention, and my deep, genuine, and honest interest. The heat of my recognition always lets them know whenever their performance is good, outstanding, beautiful, or that they give us all a cathartic experience. For me the most important experience comes when I see them pay devoted attention to one another’s dance performances and when they enjoy the presence and performance of the others.

It usually takes a couple of years to achieve this, but once we reach this stage, I’ll surely be in my seventh heaven and will be prancing about and singing on my way home.”

Sophia: “Do you normally dance in groups?”

“First we play the music several times just to give us all a feel of it. Then we all move simultaneously, but not together. Anyone can sit, lie down or dance as they like. The excerpt is brief and this one to two minute piece of music we keep repeating the whole lesson. This repetition brings us closer and closer to the tune and each of us can approach it according to his or her, own liking. I could perhaps liken this to the way the aquatic creatures get to know the deep sea. First, the sounds come pouring on us in waves. Then they gradually become parts of an entity with all the tunes, rhythms, tones and harmonies manifesting themselves. It’s really like a dream when I see my pupils tune in to the music and find and adapt their own motions to it. On some occasions they do this individually, and some times they find partners as well.”

Electra: “What do you normally db in these moments? And what would you expect your instructor to do?”

“Words must not be uttered, even the lips must not move. I apply exclusively non-verbal means like gestures, miming. Motions or glances. I dance my way to a lonesome child, touch him, encourage him, but I always accept his non-committal attitude. I dance with the child on my back. Creeping on my knees, I move close to those standing irresolutely on the floor, and I take utmost care not to tower above them. We look into each other's eyes from the same height, thereby creating a natural contact. Should his eyes glimmer with resolve I take the child with me to the group which is willing to admit him. Once he’s there I dance away. I collar those who contemplate disorderliness or disturbance right before he or she would get into the thick of it, and I give them a nice piggyback ride. On our way, I touch the child rhythmically, and my back also radiates the tone and pulse of the music. In my lucky moments, I even manage to transmit my own pleasure from the music to his hands which clutch into my hair.

Should the child take cover in the lap of his parent, I would dance around them both. If he ducks his head from my stroking hand, I caress the hair of his mother or the beard of his father. I put music on his or her eyebrows, hands or elbows, signaling that I find pleasure in this intimate contact.

For the advanced pupils, it takes only a few replays to spark off composed movements, either individually, or in pairs or groups. There are always certain children who prefer to dance together. They are the “seasoned” ones who are full of ideas and need only minute signals to understand each other. Whenever I spot someone who desperately seeks my company and personal attention, we hold on to each other and dance together for a while. Once he picks up, he can join the others or can dance on individually.

Having replayed the music five or six times, the applicants for a “solo” performance begin to compete for my attention. They all want to show the others their freshly-composed dance movements, and these occasions are considered rituals right from the beginning. We wait until complete silence falls. The soloist fixes his eyes on the person who handles the tape recorder, and signals with a wink that “his soul is prepared”. This ceremony is meant to indicate that music is a beautiful gift, and that the performance unfolding before us we consider a genuine composition.

Our advanced pupils already have a natural bent for stating in advance how much space they ill need for the dance and here the audience should sit. They also make it clear whether they want to have one or two pieces of music (without interruption) to accompany their performance and they also set the lights (they have three kinds of lamps to play with). Since the advanced pupils are wont to dance solos, and we simply can’t pay enough attention to them, there is usually a space in the other end of the room reserved for the other dancers. Of course, the soloists have priority to choose the place they prefer, and also for my personal attention. Having ended their performance, the soloists relate their own stories on the tape. Those who let the others speak first receive words of praise and handshakes as a reward. These stories are always interesting and they duly intrigue all of us.”

Amalia: “Does it not take up a lot of time to listen to all the stories?”

“Well, not all the soloists have stories to tell. I often emphasize to my children that dance has its inherent values and that the story that may accompany it is only optional. Most of our group compositions relate to fantasies or metamorphoses, and the figures they depict are imaginary. These could be some natural creatures, birds, bugs, stars, dwarfs, fairies, space creatures or on rare occasions human beings as well. Only the beginners would depict television heroes. The stories accompanying the performances are often brief. Commenting on his entrancing performance of a Bach piece Szevi had this to say: “Both of my hands were miraculous animals, and they received power from my eyes.”

Of course, there are children who relate their stories at great length or with longer pauses, and this often requires utmost patience. But we never cut short their stories, as the right to speak we all consider sacred.”

Penelope: “How do you choose the tunes?”

“We can rely on countless sources. Friends and colleagues from this country and abroad have contributed numerous recordings. We even have access to folk tunes from exotic and remote lands thanks to the help extended to us by the libraries of certain universities and institutions, and also by private collectors. And we take pains to keep the authentic music apart from the commercial.”

Martha: “Why do you rely on the music of remote peoples? Why don’t you use the familiar local musical heritage instead?”

“Songs I always select from the heritage of the country concerned. In Hungary I use Hungarian songs; in Italy my choice is obviously an Italian tune and here in Greece the songs are Greek. The reason for this is that a song comes the closest to someone if it is sung in that person’s mother tongue. However, if I want to elicit improvised movements, I am forced to abandon this approach since familiar music is bound to prompt familiar dances. The children inevitably repeat the motifs and movements they have picked up earlier at home or at kindergarten and these motifs are mostly schematic. The tunes of some exotic, remote peoples give much better inspiration to them to discover the tales, the metamorphoses and the fantasy inherent in music. And of course it is always useful to leave the oft-heard rhythms behind. The polyrhythmic tunes and the parlando rubato inevitably prompt us to forget the couplet steps.”

Vanessa: “But it would be much easier for them to dance to the familiar beat wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t know whether it would be easier or not. But it would definitely be more conventional more obvious, and of course less original. This is why I try to play new, intriguing and unfamiliar tunes to them. I want to prevent them from dancing out of routine. The Ghanaian speaking drum is just a simple instrument, and yet it can produce a wealth and variety of sounds. Its music is vivid, artistic, authentic, and genuine. This music grips the children and it compels them to be attentive and work hard. Indeed, it takes a child to meet the proper rhythm. There is no shaking about.”

Giannis: “So what you want is attention rather than relaxation.”

“Attention and relaxation are complementary to each other. This is the harmony which characterizes the working of our heart. There are moments of full relaxation, without which there is no preparation. And the music is there to focus our attention to the “sounding message”. There is no escaping it. Attention and relaxation regulate themselves freely amidst the levitation of our imagination. This is the inspiration of music. This is the product of the individual’ internal prompting, and not of some outside dictate.”

Giorgios: “My attention is not riveted by music, although I like to listen to it while learning or doing something.”

“Several people use music as a “background” to their activity. Once I met with a well-educated girl who lived in Cambridge. She told me that she liked to listen to music even during her conversations with her friends. Why? “Because if there’s music around me, I’m not afraid that I talk nonsense.” In other words, she used music to buttress up her own self. There must be some reason for this: silence is frightening, and it offers nothing to rely on. But let’s face it: silence is also a pillar of the soul, and anyone who constantly wraps himself up in music is engaged in a substitute activity. Music is genuinely meant to transmit messages. Now how can you adopt it as a spiritual nutriment if you don’t focus your attention on it?”

Antigone: “When your pupils are dancing and are engaged in devising choreographies, are they able to focus their attention on the music?”

“This is a good question. I myself keep pondering about this. I believe that our dances depend very directly on the music. We react to it without delay, and we tune in our motions to the music involuntarily. There is no outside pressure on us to follow the rhythm and the tune. And yet the involuntary movements merge perfectly with the structure of the vibrations, with the tempo, tone, and harmony of the music. Our movements are free, and yet they depend on the music. In fact, our dances are the “products” of the music. As my pupils told me once: “Music lifts up arms and plays with them.” “I'm rolling because the music is rolling me.”

This is what I’d call a genuine connection. Should I ask them to follow the melodic turns with their fingers, to mark the intervals with their hands and the rhythm and metre with their feet (similarly to the other methods of music pedagogy), I would in fact make them perform tasks. Their activity would be directed by the task, and so their attention would be absorbed by it as well. They would concentrate only on the part or component of the music which is specified in the task. Now this is why I never specify a task.

In my method there is no directive. In place of that, there is the totality of the music, which directs the children “directly”. This enables them to grasp those elements and moments which they consider the most important. Exposed to the permanent need to make choices, the children are entitled to improve on the music. This, however, requires full concentration from them: they have to feel the music in its totality. There is no escaping this flow: the children drift with the tunes, but they do this in a relaxed way, and not through struggles. They have no reason to feel frightened from missing the task, since they are the ones who set the tasks, again and again, according to their wishes.”

Julia: “Does this apply to those as well who dance in pairs, or even in groups?”

“Yes, because the partner is also free to make choices, and he also has the right to freely “grub about” in the music just to pick those tunes which fit his or her mood at the given moment. It has happened to some children who have reached an advanced level by dancing together for years that they have been able to dance their dual dance with closed eyes. Such miracles can be performed only by those who are guided directly by the music, and whose movements are so intense that the partner can respond to them blindly and straight through the music.”

Elektra: “What is this music-partnership like? Is it similar to playing chamber music?”

“Yes, indeed. But, there is a significant difference, namely that those who play chamber music have notes to follow. Their encounter is determined by the fact that they have a common task to solve. After all, they have a piece to interpret, and there is no room for improvisations. However, it is also a fact beyond dispute that the top performers can tune in to each other and can transmit this through their high-level empathy. Quite often the audience remains unable to explain why and how the cathartic experience could come about. All they would remember is that their soul was flying high, and ultimately they would do their best to repeat the experience.”

Giorgios: “But the jazz musicians do not use notes.”

“Jazz is the art of improvisation, and empathy is part and parcel of it. The jazz trio of Willie Ruff, R. Mitchell and Dizzy Gillespie gave me an unforgettable experience in America. We were shooting a film of Bessie Jones, the grand black singer, and her apprentices on the Island of Saint-Simons in the southern State of Georgia. Following the day-long shootings, the trio of Ruff, Mitchell and Gillespie played only to us, and of course to themselves. There I understood what it means to be a black musician in the States. They are the people who can touch and express each other’s souls with music. Now I, also understand why life can be so destructive for those who never reach this stage of empathic encounter.”

Sophia: “What’s the meaning of the term “empathy”?”

“Empathy is the ability to share another person’s feelings and emotions as if they were your own. If I fancy a “brave new world”, empathy would be the most important element in education. In my concept of education, it surely will. I am willing to subject my talents and knowledge to it. In fact, I would even subject music to it, which as you may know is so sacred to me. The problem is that music is already subjected to empathy, so all I have to do is reach out for its help. And then there is Bach to hold my hand. His music treats me with its inventions for two voices, with the harmony of its parts and with all its accords and discords.

And gone are my doubts. I know, I simply KNOW that the values of the other part apply fully to me as well, and that the other voice is everything but an enemy or a source of hatred.”

Christos: “How would you describe the empathy of your pupils?”

“It is part and parcel of my own empathy, since on this point we are all equals. I’m not a teacher and they’re not students. In fact, quite often I become the student of my students. All right I do repeat a thousand times my words of encouragement: “look into his eyes when you encounter him” “greet him with your glance,” “see what his forehead’s like when he is angry” “look how he bends down his lips,” “did you hear his voice trembling?” or “how did you know that he was pleased with you?”. But these words are hardly more than adornments. They are bound to remain empty without the genuine contents which we experience through our activity. Each and every movement even the tiniest one, postulates the emphatic attention of the partner and also his response straight from his soul. There is no musical encounter without devotion, without the full and totally unreserved acceptance of the partner. And this should apply to all kinds of compositions, be them individual or collective. All our individual manifestations are messages coming from within. They are unique and non-recurrent. They must not be missed, shaken off or disdained. You never know when they relate to you something important, significant and unforgettable. And this is also why you cannot criticize it. After all, would you subject a poem written to you by your love to a prosodic analysis?”

Giannis: “But what if the poem is just poor? And what if the dance is below par?”

“Your love is not interested in your rhymes, and she would never answer them. In fact I have never seen a “dance below par” here. A child cannot do that. The joy of self-expression can do miracles: it can even make the wooden spoon break into leaf.”

Kostas: “I saw you addressing your pupils while you were working in groups. What did you tell them?”

“Things like, “Peti, do you remember how we all listened to you when you were our director in your magic woods?,” or “don’t you see that Balázs is a white swan and has no water?,” or “leave some room for the acorns on the oak-tree, or else they would plunk down one by one!,” or “the leopard has no wife, he can’t find her, and that’s why he’s so angry. Who would volunteer for Mrs. Leopard?” Now all these cases were rooted in empathy, since Peti could of course recall his previous role, Balázs received a partner in no time, the acorns never dropped off the twig, and Mr. and Mrs. Leopard had a jolly good time together.”

Daphne: “Which of you requires treatment or some therapy?”

“Sometimes all of us. But my therapy should not be confused with the “professional therapy” the definition of which was laid down at a conference on musical therapy held in Malta. According to this definition there is a patient whom the therapist treats on the basis of a diagnosis and under medical control. The pupils in my groups are all healthy, and so are their patents and teachers. Of course, we adopt handicapped children as well, since we both need each other. Whenever we feel blue, exhausted or hopeless, we apply the therapy to each other. We grab the music by the hand and pass it on to the others. The grand musical pieces always mix the magic with the universal and the distinctly personal. Those who come close to them can inhale, grab or peck at them. This is what magic is like: there are a million ways to approach it, and it is divisible to your liking.

Maria’s son died in a tragic accident. There is no consolation, only tears, self-accusation, distress and perpetual anxiety for the living. I do not look into her face. We just sit, back to back. The organ part of the trio sonata is transmitted from my flannel shirt to her black pullover by my respiration. We clutch our hands in the end, but only for a long minute. The hollows in the knotty olive-tree are held together by the grooved cortex; the root is expanding to reach a drop of water; and the blooming leaf is absorbing the sunshine. There is always hope in life.”

Antigone: “But you don’t like if they term your method as therapy.”

“Exactly. By using this term, people would put my method in a little box, stick a label on it, and hide it on the top shelve of the pharmacy just to prevent the teachers of the healthy from reaching it. The professional educators never go to pharmacies. The textbooks and course programs are all produced for use by the masses.”

Giorgios: “So you would not like to educate the masses?”

“No, God save me from the masses, in my dreams I see individuals. Giorgios is not Kostas, and Antigone differs from Vanessa. There may be a hundred cones on a pine-tree, but none are identical. Only mass products can be identical. For me it is very important to be able to identify a Kostas, who is in search of his own best self, who spares no effort to carve it out from himself, and who has the enthusiasm to inspire those who turn to him. The chisel, by the way, is an unfriendly instrument.

Neither Bach nor Bartók can be considered chisels. On the commercial markets one may find loads of musical pieces which are produced for entertainment, stimulation space-filling, sales and success. But none of these pieces can be associated with the chisel.”

Elektra: “Are you talking about adults or children?”

“The adults produce, sell and buy the pleasant and the stimulating tunes, all that soft pop and hard rock stuff. And the children follow them. The aim is to make noise, to stop that silence; otherwise the need could arise to think. And also it’s easy to speak nonsense. So there’s the music which helps me forget the demands of the outside world, and it also frees my brain of its tensions. A glass of vodka or beer for the big ones, chewing gum and chocolate ice-cream for the kiddies.”

Marius: “But music is “fun”, isn’t it?”

“Have fun, right? An hour of ease sandwiched between two tough ones, when there’s no need to flex your mental muscles. It’s like tasting cream after meat, just for the fun of it. Wrong, totally wrong! Genuine music will never serve you. Instead, it grabs you turns you around and shows you what you hardly ever see: the inside of your soul. Who am I? What are the pattern texture, color toughness and dimension of my own marble like? Bach and Bartók place the chisel in your hand, let you know what the sculpture is like in your own marble and tell you where and how to begin.”

Dimitris: “Why is it that the children do not find their way to Bach and Bartók by themselves?”

“The newborn needs help to find the mother’s breast. Once he finds it, he knows where to seek milk. The mother transforms her own food into milk, which is good, pure or even poor and poisoned with nicotine, alcohol or drug. She gives what she has. But the infant has no choice and no chance as well. He is defenseless and exposed. The newborn wishes to become nice and strong and his sculpture is hidden in his marble. But how could he find it when he is covered with dust, dressed in dirt and cobwebbed in darkness?”

Marius: “Should the music teacher refrain from entertaining?”

“Why should he? He may well long for that, and may well feel that as a form of self-manifestation. Children make a refreshing company they love to have fun, and they even learn from it. But you don’t confuse entertainment with music education, do you?”

Julia: “Is high-standard music education always serious? Is it impossible to laugh?”

“When I say that for me genuine music is not fun but my daily bread, for which we pray, do I exclude laughing? Is there no pleasure to be found in bread? My pupils have danced happily hundreds of times to such tunes which the audience in a concert hall would listen to without even a ghost of a smile on their face. Or just go out and see in the Duende Veronika’s red composition or Orsi’s blue flame painted on a linen and waving on the shores of the Adriatic Sea. These are illustrations to Bach’s Hosanna. Now joy and fun are not equals, even though both may involve happiness and laughter.”

Elektra: “What is it that hurts or embarrasses you the most when you see a school, a kindergarten, children or teachers?”

“Indifference and mockery. I wish I could eliminate them for good. But the teacher may well have had indifferent parents or mocking tutors and the seed remains productive. It’s like the weed: you simply can’t root it out.”

Nikolas: “Indifference is the self-defense of the professionals. A musician can’t always play passionately neither can a teacher teach enthusiastically day by day. He would extinguish himself. Have you seen Fellini’s film, the “Orchestra”?

I saw it in a tiny cinema where there were only five people in the audience. Now this is the film which ought to be seen by all the musicians and teachers in the world. Music, just like education is hammered out in fire from art and craft, from iron and gold. It requires passion, self-sacrifice, devotion and enthusiasm, or else it is reduced to cardboard or plastic. Indifference is the shield of a parched soul. And yet there were Tamino and Pamina in the Magic Flute, who needed no such shield to walk through fire and water. They could make it unharmed. This is Mozart’s teaching. I myself had a blessed childhood in that my father and mother never ridiculed me and they never showed me what indifference can mean.

I used to have a variety of teachers, and some of them did hurt me. But whatever they taught me with dark sarcasm or cool indifference has all slipped my memory since then. It’s all gone with the wind. Only the ardent believers and the devout have left indelible marks in my memory. In fact, I don’t think that enthusiasm towards children is expendable. Children can give at least as much as I do. We all have a common sack to fill. And this sack is round and chubby like the fairy moon, and it’s also shiny and flexible. It takes in everything and never brims over. We just keep stuffing, pushing and pulling it, and the sack yields but it is never destroyed.”

Cuirass
March 9, 1989 “Resedas”
Mozart: Symphony in G-minor K. 183, final

M. Peti (7): I have a cuirass, which covers my whole body. It is charged with electricity which dissolves music, and so not a single note reaches me. Somewhere the music gets stored. It never reaches me. Not a single tune. Nothing. But once I remove the armor, the music can reach me in waves again, and I feel freer a bit.

Have you removed it today?

Peti: Yes, just to see what it feels without the armor.

And what was it like?

Peti: Strange. Mozart finds his way into my shoulder, and buzzes there.

Newborn gophers
May 9, 1989 “Blooming carnations”
Bartók: Microcosmos Part 6., No. 4. Bulgarian dance

Orsi and Petra are both aged 9. Both are the only children in their respective families, and they are equally longing for a sister or a brother. Here is the story of their dance.

Orsi: We were newborn gophers, bursting with energy. We were still half blind, and so we could only stumble over each other. All of a sudden, the smell of some good food reached us. Having sniffed about, we began to run, and I made it to the food first. I wolfed like mad to pre-empt my sister. When she got there we began to scuffle, simply because I wanted to prevent her from eating. But the music brought us to reason. It appeased us, and ultimately we shared the food.

Petra: We even brought some of it home. We were toting it together.

Klári: You were running up and down, loaded with musical sentences. Did you have a plan to go by?

Petra: No. All we were talking about were our home and the food.

Orsi: The rhythm of our turns was determined by the music

Klári: Which do you think is more important - the music or the story?

Orsi: It depends. If for example the music ends before I manage to reach the hole, I would stop there and, say, have a nice nap on the clearing.

The pearls' progress
January 30, 1986 “Resedas”
Handel: Suite in D-major for trumpet and orchestra. 4th movement

Ági, Bori, Villő and Náditündér are dancing. Náditündér is physically handicapped, tied to a wheelchair. The girls form a tight circle around Náditündér, practically locking her in a ring. They respond to the pizzicato as if they were one body. They tremble together, and then they hold high their glossy trumpet and raise their arms as if they were shielding something. What could that be?

Ági: We were personifying a shell together with Bori and Villő. We were a huge, shiny shell. We were living in the sea. All of a sudden we sensed the birth of a pearl inside. It was Náditündér, who had difficulties with dancing, since the shell was far too tight. But she was very happy still. We then began our progress from the sea through the river and the stream to the tiny brook, and we hit the land at the very moment when the music died out.

Zsolt (7): I was the large pearl shell, and I gave birth to a baby shell, which later grew very big. The bigger it grew the smaller shells it contained. The tiniest one had a magic pearl in it, which turned Aunt Klári into the king of the seas. It gave you a crown, a scepter and an orb, and a huge mantle on your back. And it also laid a table laden with fine foods.

Magic delicacies, you mean?

Zsolt: Yes and also heaps of ice cream.

And what happened to the magic pearl?

Zsolt: It sneaked into the pocket of your mantle. It was so tiny that nobody but you could notice it. It sang you a song if you wanted to. It even played the trumpet, if you wished.

And the grave sprung open
April 18, 1989 “Blooming Carnations”
Handel: Concerto in F-major, 4th movement

Orsi and Petra, both 9-year-olds, improvised a joint dance. They were preparing for it long in advance. They relied only on their free movements and mimes and never uttered a word. We all marveled at their performance, and then listened to their story.

Orsi: Petra has personified brightness throughout our dance, while I began as absolute darkness. We clashed and fought, and in fact I overwhelmed Petra so much that she almost died. I cornered her and she surrendered. However, as I was brandishing my evil darkness, I found myself becoming gradually milder. I could not stand my own evil self any longer, and ultimately I changed my color. I became white - well, not fully, since the evil has left its mark on my soul. My heart also became half white and half black. So I decided to call in Petra, because we together represent brightness.

Petra: At stake in our fight was whether the world should be dark or bright. Darkness prevailed, I died, but then I revived when Orsi suddenly assumed my color.

Klári: Was it difficult to revive, Petra?

Petra: No, in fact it was very easy.

Orsi: I think it was easy for her because she personified goodness as well. It was no effort for her to spring open the grave, as she was goodness impersonated.

(Excerpt from the chapter “What the world should be like?”. The dialogue is a transcript of a taped conversation.)

From pure fountains
May 8, 1987 “Resedas”
Bach: Sonata in F-minor, for violin and piano, AWV 1018, 4th movement

Évi is 10, Miklós 10, Viktor 9, and Balázs 9 years old. They are pushing together tables and chairs, working with feverish zeal, building something.

Klári: I see you are making something important; we are patient, waiting for it. Tell us when music may begin.

They finally finish the building. On one side of it Miklós and Viktor are lying, on the other side Évi with her long legs, and under the table is Balázs. Évi gives the signal that music can start; it should go on twice, continuously. Now all of the children are digging, hammering, and loosening the soil, with strong blows, of course with no noise, with fully musical movements. During the whole of the music work goes on incessantly. Now three of them sit aside in the corner, eat their lunch, munching, nibbling.

Then, after a new motif enters, they again start working. At the next entry of a motif they suddenly pull the tables apart and Balázs comes up from the ground, bringing and lifting his flute on the palms of his hands. He keeps it proudly, with a dignified face. The others look at him with amazement and admire him. Balázs jumps unto the table with the flute in his hands and all of them begin to dance; they dance a joyful dance. By the end of the music all four of them kneel down.

Klári: Here is my tape recorder, now tell the story!

Balázs: We were miners. When we began mining, we found that we hear some sounds from the depths of the earth. We didn’t know what it can be but decided to find it, come life, come death. We were digging and digging. It was very deep. We heard it more and more closely and found that it is music. Then I went to the bottom, to search for it. Then I came up, for I found the music, i.e. the flute on which music was played. Then we threw away our pick-axes and danced.

Klári: Did you mine the music?

Viktor: Yes, we were looking for music. Then there was no music in the world and we found out how good it would be if music would exist. Our imagination became realized. It is sure that any music starts from this fountain.

Klári: From what fountain, Viktor?

Viktor: From this we have found.

Miklós: From a pure fountain.

Klári: How do you mean this?

Miklós: It was a water-fountain.

Viktor: It was necessary that water should take the music far away.

Klári: How did the water take the music?

Viktor: In its gurgling, tinkling, in the form of a creek.

Klári: How does it do this?

Balázs: When the creek is flowing, it takes with it the pebbles; the water washes them, and takes with it the music too, into other countries and shows everybody, what music is like.

Klári: Évi, you were also a miner?

Évi: Yes, it was very tiring as we were working. But then we found the music, we took a rest and were happy. This was the result of our pains. We were no official miners, and were working not for money; we were working for the sake of music. We were thinking about how we could find music, and one of my mates found out that it ought to be mined out from the bottom of the creek and there we may find this magic flute. This music was a map for us which showed where this music may originate from, where the magic flute can be found and where it comes from.

Klári: How do you mean the map?

Évi: So that it shows us, which is the fountain it comes from. We were looking for this fountain and wanted to reach that all music should be more beautiful and not as far and as soft as it was earlier. Until it was underground, only we heard it.

Klári: And what did you want it to be like?

Balázs: To be more beautiful and louder.

Évi: We didn’t want all the music of the world to be ours, and that only we should hear it, we wanted that others hear it too, and the world should hear about music.

Viktor: And we didn’t want to lock it in, because here, under the ground it was locked up, indeed.

Évi: He wished that others hear it too and they all should rejoice in music, even those who are sorrowful, should become happy by music.

E minor fugue
November 15, 1988 “Blooming Carnations”
Bach: Wohltemperiertes Klavier, Vol. 1., No. 10.

Villő: I was a wooden house, made of pine-wood, and the flood inundated me. I fell into pieces, the flood whirled me along and when I was completely flooded, a board floated to the surface of the water.

Klári: Did this board symbolize something?

Villő: Yes, the board was my hand.

*

Severin: I was an eagle and Anikó was a little sparrow. I wanted to eat her, but she begged me, and I left her alive.

Klári: And then?

Severin: A fox came, but with my wing I hit his nose and he ran away a kilometer. I made friends with the sparrow.

Klári: How did you live further on, the eagle and the sparrow?

Severin: We were friends ever after, until our death.

*

Fruzsina: We searched for light in the depths of the earth. There were many secret lights, very varied ones, smaller and bigger, and very tiny ones too. We picked them all up and threw them up to the sky. On the sky they became stars and we just admired the stars.

*

Schumann’s teaching was: “Wohltemperiertes Klavier be your daily bread.” Let us all have well-tuned piano, well-tuned harps and well-tuned soul.

Mozart: The Magic Flute
Aria by the Queen of the Night
24th November 1987 “Resedas”