Hungarian Heritage Review, 1988 (17. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1988-06-01 / 6. szám
her playing and her personal charm. He wanted to perform with her whenever and wherever she wished. And he immediately set to writing a violin sonata for them to perform together. In March 1922 Bartók’s British tour finally took place. Its highlight was the performance of his new (first) violin sonata with Jelly. It was performed firstly at a private concert at the residence of the Hungarian Charge d’affaires and then at a public recital in London’s Aeolian Hall. The critics did not know what to make of the piece. It was intensely dissonant and parts for the two instruments seemed to pursue different lines of thought, almost as if Bartók had fashioned them to reflect the different personalities of the performers: Jelly’s effervescence, his own more dour nature. What could not escape the critics’ attention, however, was the tremendous sense of rapport between Jelly Arányi and Bela Bartók, especially in their mutual rhythmic precision. While in Britain Bartók also performed with Adila and met frequently with Titi and her mother. At a time when his own marriage was showing signs of strain he revelled in the company of these four women. The sisters’ feelings about the renewed contact with Bartók were mixed. Rather naively Jelly continued to treat Bartók in same manner of an “older brother” as in the prewar Budapest of her childhood. Her lack of inhibition in musical matters was interpreted more broadly by Bartók, who was desirous of a more intimate relationship. Although her respect for Bartók’s musicianship was indeed great, Jelly had no desire to become personally involved with Bartók. The incongruity of their intentions led to a cooling of relations. At one stage Bartók had insulted Jelly and her mother, and so the sisters decided not to promote Bartók’s interests so actively in the future. The Hungarian composer was deeply upset. In an attempt to gain back the sisters’ favour he wrote a second violin sonata, which he again dedicated to “that consummate artiste, Jelly Arányi”. But Jelly was not interested in performing it and the first performance had to be given by the Hungarian violinist Imre Waldbauer along with the composer. Under some pressure from the International Society for Contemporary Music, however, Jelly relented and did in May 1923 perform this sonata in London with Bartók. Relations were reestablished on a rather formal footing, especially as at this time the sisters’ mother was terminally ill and they had little time to spend on merely social activities with Bartók. Later in the year, however, after Bartók’s marriage to his second wife, Ditta Pasztory, he was rehabilitated with some caution to the “older brother” category. During December 1923 both Adila and Jelly performed substantial programmes with Bartók during a further British tour, and they even travelled to Switzerland to perform in a concert with him. Despite the renewed warmth of relations with the sisters Bartók did not perform or even see any of them for some years. His own new family responsibilities, illnesses and extra teaching and folk music commitments kept him from intensive composing or concertizing for several years. Eventually in late 1927 he undertook a long-planned concert tour of the United States, which coincided with a similar tour by Jelly Aranyi. When, by chance, Bartók’s associate for a concert in Philadelphia could not make the date, Jelly Aranyi was called in to play the programme which featured none other than the second of the sonatas which Bartók had originally written for her. They both enjoyed the unexpected chance to perform this work together. Jelly commented: .. .it was nice to be with Bartók! You can’t imagine what it means in this country to meet old friends — even B.! Especially as all the unpleasantness is gone. I can only remember I knew him as a child. He was so happy to be with me, as he is very homesick — I personally am happy now —... The concert did not score such a success with the conservative Philadelphia audience. As the critic for the Philadelphia Inquirer commented: The rush to get in, however, was only exceeded by the rush to get out after Jelly d'Aranyi, Hungarian violiniste, and the third featured figure of the afternoon, had wrung and wrested cries of anguish from her forlorn fiddle in Bartók ’s Sonata for Piano and Violin, No. 2, with the composer aiding and abetting the tonal torture at the piano. The performance left some members of the audience apparently stunned, but one piano teacher, hurriedly departing, was heard to say, “Why my ears positively hurt!’’ Two years later the duo also performed in a late-evening BBC radio broadcast. Social relations with the sisters were now occasional and low-key. From time to time Bartók dined with members of the family at Adila’s London home — they always tried to cater for Bartók’s taste for exotic fruits — and in 1932 he stayed at Adila’s home for some days. But here, after a friendship of over thirty years, the paths of the I f Aranyis and Bartók appear to diverge. The sisters little by little withdrew from the intense concert activity of their earlier years, and fewer opportunities were presented for Bartók to visit Britain. The sisters gained much notoriety later in the 1930s over the performance of Schumann’s Violin Concerto of 1853, and the supposed assistance of supernatural forces in the work’s rediscovery. Death and illness soon intervened: Titi suffered increasingly from psychological problems; Adila’s husband, family friend Sir —continued next page 20 HUNGARIAN HERITAGE REVIEW JUNE 1988
