Professional Documents
Culture Documents
MARIAN ZLOAG
ABSTRACT For at least two and a half centuries, the Gypsy as musical performer has
been one of the principal stereotypes of the Roma, and a symbol of a backward
Eastern Europe in western narratives. The association between Hungarian culture and
Romani musical performance, when embraced, might be understood as a consequence
of the triumph of Romanticism in European cultures or, on the other hand, when
rejected, as a casualty of the dominant role that positivism came to play in ideological
and intellectual discourses. The national paradigm, which by definition acted in an
exclusive fashion, enforced boundaries between in-group audiences and foreign
listeners. In this study, Zloag attempts to go beyond the musicological literature and
trace the effects of the representation of the Hungarian-Roma cultural hybrid on
readers of the German-language press. He highlights the way narratives about Gypsy
performances came to be regarded as a call to rebellion among Hungarians who were
suspected of covertly using the Roma as a vehicle for the articulation of their own
nationalism. More specifically, he looks at how ethnic Germans in Transylvania
referred to this narrative association in highly essentialist terms in order to attack their
political opponents and, consequently, affirm their belonging both to an elitist national
Germanic canon and to the non-chauvinistic official policy of the Habsburgs.
KEYWORDS cultural nationalism, Gypsy music, Habsburg Empire, Hungarians, hybridity, musical battles, nation-building, nationalism, Roma, Transylvanian Germans
MARIAN ZLOAG
381
See Pamela M. Potter, Most German of the Arts: Musicology and Society from the Weimar
Republic to the End of Hitlers Reich (New Haven, CT and London: Yale University
Press 1998).
8 Franz Liszt, Des Bohmiens et de leur musique en Hongrie (Paris: Libraire Nouvelle 1859).
9 The term Roma refers here to Roma, Sinti, Kale and related groups in Europe,
including persons who have been identified by non-Roma and even by Roma as
Gypsies.
10 Endre Spur, Supplementary notes on Liszts and Brahms so-called Gypsy music,
Journal of the Gypsy Lore Society, Series 3, vol. 31, no. 3/4, 1952, 12938 (133).
11 Ern Kllai, Gypsy musicians, in Andrs Kovts (ed.), Roma Migration, trans. from the
Hungarian by Dezs Bnki and kos Farkas (Budapest: Centre for Migration and
Refugee Studies 2002), 7597 (80).
MARIAN ZLOAG
383
and reinforced by means of popular music,23 which will remain the focus of
my analysis. Official high-art music productions bearing the national imprint
could be too encrypted, and require too much specialist training and too large
a cultural vocabulary, to be understood as such. The nationalist agenda of
music could be better served when arias were popularized and played in
public spaces. Their meaning could then be accessible after having gone
through a stage of official consecration and eventual de-codification.
Unofficial anthems and popular music could also be more blunt and targeted
in their statements than official ones. The stereotypical construction of
Hungarians as puppet-masters, who used the politically apathetic Roma
minstrel to perform Hungarian national music and concomitantly express a
spirit of revolt, was widespread in press narratives. Such reporting
demonstrates the impact of music in delineating group boundaries and
defining performers as deviant or even as enemies.
MARIAN ZLOAG
385
MARIAN ZLOAG
387
Narratives at work
Even prior to the publication of Liszts book about Gypsy music, many
Transylvanians agreed that Romani minstrels had an innate musical virtuosity. Furthermore, in the provincial political and cultural context, the subcategory of Transylvanian Roma music-makers came to be regarded as an
instrument of Hungarian culture. This dual artistic and ethnocultural
association was reiterated by the ethnologist Johann Heinrich Schwicker,
who wrote the following in an influential treatise about the Roma in
Transylvania and Hungary:
In [Western] Europe Gypsies appear to be the musicians in Turkey, Romania
and above all in Hungary, so that at present Hungary cannot be imagined
without Gypsy music. So much so that any shallow French tourist might be
tempted to perpetuate the general lack of taste by calling Hungary the land of
the Gypsies. Indeed, it is usual to associate Hungary with the music of the
Gypsies, hence any musician there is called a Gypsy and, in everyday usage,
to call or bring in the Gypsy always means to bring in a musical band.45
43 Carl Gllner (ed.), Geschichte der Deutschen auf dem Gebiete Rumniens, vol. 1 (Bucharest:
Kriterion Verlag 1979), 352.
44 Roth, Kleine Geschichte Siebenbrgens, 110.
45 Johann Heinrich Schwicker, Die Zigeuner in Ungarn und Siebenbrgen (Vienna and
Teschen: K. Prochaska 1883), 159.
46
47
48
49
Ibid., 160.
Ibid., 156.
Mayes, Reconsidering an early exoticism, 164.
Der Kolozsvri Kzlny und die Zigeunermusik, Siebenbrgisch-deutsches Tageblatt,
no. 3808, 24 June 1886, 629.
MARIAN ZLOAG
389
insulted the members of what the reporter called the uniquely legitimate
nation, as they had lost their privileged relationship to the Gypsies. A
violent fight ensued and the German was stabbed. Despite an anxious
attempt to sweep things under the carpet, these inhuman brutalities came to
light.55 The idea of the German repertoire as universalist can be easily
discerned in the reporters preference for the German character in the story.56
The report not only indicates the silliness with which Hungarian national
music was associated, but also conveyed to readers the veiled chauvinistic
attitude of a rival ethnic group towards the German minority. The journalists
identification with the cultural values of the innocent victim shows how
musical performances by Roma were seen as the perfect medium for enacting
enmity between national cultures.
Confirmation of the stereotyped osmosis between Hungarian culture and
Roma musical performances in the service of a Hungarian nationalist agenda
can also be found in the travelogues of foreigners published in the Saxon
press. A western travellers observations were regarded as supplementary
proof that performances by Roma could potentially arouse a spirit of revolt.
One traveller reported that, at an inn, he had the chance to enjoy a Romani
band that played unofficial Hungarian anthems with passion in order to
familiarize the foreigner with the national soul.57 He was informed by his
escort that the melancholic, cadenced and spirited tunes were the Klapka
March, the vocal ljen and a storming Rkczi March. The performances
were met with applause, and coins were thrown at the musicians as reward.
Despite the manipulative power of these elegiac renditions, they were soon
recognized as carrying hidden revanchist ideas. In spite of the travellers
desire to enrich his journey with authentic cultural productions, he could not
ignore the fact that the music he innocently requested the Romani band to
play was met with animosity by the Romanians present at the same inn, who
asked for a different repertoire. The reporter described the melancholy
Hungarian lament, and noted that the Romani minstrels performance
indeed displayed wild passions that were [for the traveller] entirely
insignificant,58 from a political point of view. A repertoire that could be so
casually exoticized by the traveller was read differently by the ethnic groups
in Transylvania. Nationalist music played by the Roma could stir the masses
as they recognized in some melodies a signal for rebellion. Such reported
occurrences offer insights into how unofficial anthems could prove to be more
effective in supporting a nationalist agenda.59 On the other hand, the
narrative also suggests the delicate situation of the Romani performer, caught
55 Ibid.
56 Benjamin Curtis, Music Makes the Nation: Nationalist Composers and Nation Building in
Nineteenth-century Europe (Amherst, NY: Cambria Press 2008), 9.
57 Zigeunersympathie: Eine Reiseerinnerung aus Ungarn, Siebenbrger Quartalschrift,
no. 4, 16 February 1860, 1234.
58 Ibid., 124.
59 Bohlman, Focus, 111 ff.
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magyart (God, Bless the Hungarians) and Kk nefelejcs (Blue Forget-MeNots). The musical conflict between the factions continued, and Borokai even
ordered the local band to leave the stage to make room for the Romani
performers. When his order was met with the same refusal, he abused the
participants, accused them of singing hostile national songs and arrested
them. Again, in recounting the episode, the Siebenbrgisch-deutsches Tageblatt
tried to convey to its readers that musicking was far from innocent, and that
political disagreements could be provoked by musical performances. In the
German journalists view, the episode documented once again the more or
less voluntarily subordination of the Roma to the Hungarian political agenda.
Articles in the press show how the clash between nations could be
reiterated by conflicting musical canons, repertoires and performances, and
ultimately by essentialized national tastes. That musicking was a weapon of
war was no secret to the Transylvanian people. Since, as we have seen,
tensions could be deliberately generated during official celebrations of the
imperial authorities, such events might be understood as open declarations of
war. At the end of the nineteenth century, in the era of widespread press
reporting, even the most remote corner of Austria-Hungary could be
monitored. Word spread fast and such narratives could quickly alarm various
authorities, be they local, provincial or imperial.
71 See Edward W. Said, Orientalism (London and New York: Penguin 2003); and Larry
Wolff, Inventing Eastern Europe: The Map of Civilization on the Mind of the Enlightenment
(Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press 1994).
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