William Penn Life, 2017 (52. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)

2017-04-01 / 4. szám

Tibor's Take with Tibor Check, Jr. The story of‘Gloomy Sunday’ IN THE FEBRUARY 2017 Tibor's Take, I discussed the production of Hungarian 78 RPM records. Soon afterwards, a gentleman named Louis from the San Francisco area emailed me an informative re­sponse. We exchanged messages, and eventually he sent me several high quality photographs con­cerning a specific song, composer and lyricist. An intriguing story emerged of how a simple song of sorrowful lament became an inter­national musical sensation. There are certain songs that every quality Hungarian band can perform. Songs such as "Az a Szép," "Csak Egy Kislány" or Rhapsody #2 by Liszt are standard selections of a band's playlist, but one particular song is usually performed only if requested specifically by a patron. I had the opportunity to hear live versions of "Szomorú Vasárnap" ("Gloomy Sunday") on two occasions while visiting Budapest in 2014 (at two restaurants, Százéves and Mátyás Pince). Although I have played recordings of the song on our family's Hungarian radio program, it was not until recently that I realized the peculiar and morbid history of this composition surfaced. So, without further ado, 1 present the story of "Gloomy Sunday." Rudolf Spitzer was born on Nov. 3,1889, in a poor, working-class area of Budapest. During his early years, the city was going through an extensive building boom that made for an exciting and happy childhood. He spent his teenage years working in theater and in small circus venues, eventually becoming an acrobat and trapeze performer. Along the way, he taught himself to play the piano and performed in various bars. Facing discrimination, Spitzer changed his name to Rezső Seress, but his career was abruptly altered due to a serious accident that occurred during a practice ses­sion which caused him to lose motor function in one of his hands. So, Seress concentrated on learning to play the piano with just five fingers and focused on composing and singing. Meanwhile, the world was heading towards The Great Depression of the 1930s. Sandwiched between two world wars, the era was one of near seamless despair that persisted for a generation. The "Great War" produced a worldwide economic collapse, creating great suffering throughout Europe. Hungary had the dubious distinction of being aligned on the side that lost both world wars. These overarching political and economic circumstances made daily life bitter, hard and difficult. It was in this con­text that Seress found inspiration for his art. For a short time Seress lived and worked in Paris (1932-33). This was where he devised the original melody and lyrics to a song titled, "Vége a Világnak." ("End of the World"). The inspira­tion for this tune was a recently failed romance. Upon returning to Hungary, Seress confided the details of this romance and shared his sorrow and song with dear friend and gifted poet László Jávor (1903-1956). Coincidentally, Jávor had just broken up with his longtime girlfriend, and he and Seress shared a common grief and anguish. As the two mulled over the recently devised composition, Jávor offered to revise the lyrics and, just like peanut butter and jelly or paprika and szallona, a perfect match of music coupled with words was created. The name of the tune was revised as well: "Szomorú Vasárnap." Szomorú vasárnap száz fehér virággal Vártalak kedvesem templomi imával Almokat kergető vasárnap délelőtt Bánatom hintája nélküled visszajött Azóta szomorú mindig a vasárnap Könny csak az italom kenyerem a bánat... Szomorú vasárnap Utolsó vasárnap kedvesem gyere el Pap is lesz, koporsó, ravatal, gyászlepel Akkor is virág vár, virág és - koporsó Virágos fák alatt utam az utolsó Nyitva lesz szemem hogy még egyszer lássalak Ne félj a szememtől holtan is áldalak... Utolsó vasárnap The song became an instant hit within the city. The famous Hungarian actor and vocalist Jávor Pál contacted Seress and expressed an interest in publishing sheet music and an audio recording of the three-verse dirge. For the first time in his life, Seress had some money and good fortune. In 1934, he married Hani Nadler (1901-1969). It is unclear if Nadler was the same person the song was writ­ten about. "Gloomy Sunday" immediately became the stuff of ur­ban legend as it was purported to have inspired dozens of suicides in Budapest and surrounding areas of Hungary. The Danube and Tisza Rivers, as well as Lake Balaton, became popular sites for suicides, with some blaming the deaths on the song, although most likely the suicides were simply the sad result of widespread poverty and famine. 6 0 April 2017 0 WILLIAM PENN LIFE

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