Gramofon: Heritage
Heritage Collection
Clever titles are not all the same – sometimes they are presented by life itself, shedding light onto moments that would naturally grab one’s attention.
That can be said about the second album of Ildikó Szabó (on the first one, she is accompanied by her mother, Ágota Lénárt). The biographical and musical aspects of “heritage” place the production into a multidimensional perspective, which could qualify as “heritage” in itself without exaggeration. She who proved to be so receptive to all the intellectual gifts that she was given as early as her school years, now consciously works to share its fruits with many. That is what we learn from the “confession-like” dedication, part of which can be read on the back of the CD cover: “The aim of my album is not only to be a musicological curiosity, but to raise the audience’s awareness of yet unrecorded or less frequently played pieces and composers; to inspire my colleagues to practise and learn the extended techniques featured in these works, as well as to provide a guide to the interpretation of Hungarian and Transylvanian composers’ works, rooted in authentic sources through personal relationships and Hungarian strings traditions.” By this point, you might have realised that the “target audience” of this programme is international, both regarding listeners and instrumentalists. It is a nice gesture from the young artist living in Berlin in the case of a Hungarian production. It shows a strong faith in how quality knows no (country) borders... And it is especially notable considering that it was over a decade ago when János Starker told her: “concerts are played for the audience, recordings are made for ourselves”. She recognised the opportunity in studio recordings to record “experiences and ideas matured for years”, in other words: to record “an interpretation that is thought to be ideal”. This is the duality presented by the album: the self-portrait of the performer (a time-coded snapshot) – and the disclosure it conveys, infinite in time and space, which promotes the performed pieces at the same time. The choice of programme becomes a musical personality trait.
In her commentary, Ildikó Szabó “accounts for” all the threads that enrich the texture of her artistic heritage. She could approach Kodály’s Solo Sonata through such “agents” as László Mező, who edited the very first edition of the composition (and with whom she studied from age 11 at the Academy of Music) and János Starker, in the repertoire of whom this piece had a special place (she had summer masterclasses with him). They both “worked” with Kodály. She was also introduced to György Ligeti’s Solo Sonata by people who knew the composer personally. She worked directly with György Kurtág and Péter Eötvös (Eötvös was present in the studio when she recorded his piece, while the exceptional educational work of Kurtág instructing the performers of his works is well known in musical circles...), so her performance is legitimised by meaningful, “first-hand” instructions. But heritage is most direct in the case of Csaba Szabó’s composition. The four-movement cycle titled Suite for Solo Cello with Cowbells was written for his son, Péter Szabó, for his 16th birthday.
Following the radio recording in Budapest, the piece was premiered in Marosvásárhely (Târgu Mureş) – the composer did not live to see its Hungarian concert premiere. The musical history of the work is continued by its very first studio recording played by the composer’s granddaughter (on the album that also features the first studio recording of György Kurtág’s The Hilary Jig).
These are all facts and data. What is harder to describe, is the heritage value of Ildikó Szabó’s cello playing. The performance of the artist in her late twenties can be considered as “ageless” in several ways.
Historically, it is determined by the modernity of the repertoire – although it would be difficult to guess the actual age. It is mature and has a calm confidence permeated by inner conviction. The audience gets the compositions with the feeling that the sound is equivalent of the work. (This feeling does not mean, however, that a “different” interpretation, heard at another time, played by another artist, or maybe performed at another time by the same artist could not be also experienced as convincing and authentic.) Thanks to the impressive perfection it delivers, even first-time listeners can “feel safe”, i.e. they are able to navigate through the he whole work as it unfolds in time. Movements (by Eötvös and Csaba Szabó) in which the instrumentalist is also required to sing are especially sensational. It is not the oddity of the task that is striking, rather the harmony in which the vox humana and the cello sound is unified.
In this regard, its musical heritage is clearly homogenous: we can sense that every piece is a fundamental part of Ildikó Szabó’s musical vocabulary. Her cello playing radiates an understanding love, making the empathic listener take pleasure and delight in all the pieces. It must be noted though that the interpretation of the Kodály Solo Sonata is especially remarkable. We know it from the primary source that she first started studying the work at age 15 (which also shows the exceptional talent she revealed at such a young age) – and undoubtedly, she actively continued to study this giant of the solo cello repertoire ever since. So much so that she reached the level where she can channel Kodály’s masterpiece through her instrument with unobstructed directness.
On the album cover, Ildikó Szabó’s face is partly hidden by her instrument – the cello’s scroll is placed in front of her eye. The undoubtedly eye-catching idea might at first seem revolting (why hide her photogenic face?), but one can quickly learn to like it. And maybe unintentionally, but it helps touch on a comment that only few artists can live up to. András Pernye set the bar high for writers on music/musicians with his ever so valuable guidance: the subject has to be described in a way that does not allow “the name to be switched”, i.e. so that what is written should not describe anyone or anything else. With that in mind, I attempt to describe Ildikó Szabó as a cellist who uses her instrument as an extra sense: an extra channel to receive and give impulses. Tirelessly.
Katalin Fittler
Source: Gramofon