Acknowledgements
This book is a testimony to a life-long love for music and opera, and an ongoing preoccupation with understanding nationalism. I grew up in multicultural miraculous Transylvania, where three historical nationalities – Romanians, Hungarians and Germans – shared the public sphere with each other, mostly peacefully, but occasionally riven with nationalistic tensions orchestrated by various political actors. In the years after the collapse of communism, political discourse, which was previously a patriotic rhetoric based on distinctions between class and ideology, was replaced by an identity politics seeking to turn the various ethnic groups against one another. This shift meant that people in their daily lives were constantly reminded of their nationality. Nationalism became both a public and a personal issue. As cultural identity became a political instrument, the similarities between the practices and rhetoric of nineteenth-century nation-building and the resurgence of nationalism became fascinating from a scholarly point of view. Just as in the days of Romantic nationalism, the performances of certain operas and theater plays, the significance of particular statues and monuments, and the emotional symbolism of specific literary documents began to matter and to mobilize people along the lines of their ethnic affiliations. History was repeating itself, sometimes as tragedy and sometimes as farce.
My love for opera and music was no doubt also shaped by the fact that I happened to grow up next door to an opera house to which, thanks to my grandmother, I enjoyed unlimited access. Music and singing filled my early days, for which I am eternally grateful to my grandparents and to my wonderful music teacher, Katalin Halmos. “Kati néni,” as everyone called her, made me aware that musical pieces were not simply notes regulated by certain rules, but culturally embedded works of art that were intertwined with the social, religious, and political realities of their time: she taught me that music is a social and cultural practice, and not just the aesthetic manifestation of a composer’s talent and subjective inspiration. Her classes on Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte were magical indeed.
The idea to study opera and nationhood together first occurred to me almost a decade ago and took the form of a PhD project. The interdisciplinary link between politics and the cultural history of the opera crystalized in a series of long conversations with the late John Neubauer, to whom this book is dedicated. I first met John – or János, as his family and friends called him – in 2002 during an Erasmus exchange semester in Amsterdam. He encouraged me to apply for a PhD position on the subject of national operas and nation-building, as he believed that such a study could make an important contribution to the understanding of national movements in Central Europe. The proposal was accepted, and I spent probably the best four years in my life reading, thinking, and writing about this fascinating topic. Meanwhile János became not only a mentor but also a close friend and a surrogate father. Besides being an exceptionally dedicated and inspiring supervisor, he was also an amazingly caring human being who made sure that I would not feel isolated or lonely in a life spent working in the seclusion of books. I am eternally grateful to János for generously offering me his time and friendship, for his relentless encouragement, inspiration, and constructive criticism. Similarly, I am deeply indebted to his wife, Ursula Neubauer, who accepted me as a family member, cooked me delicious dinners, invited me to join them for concerts and operas, and gave emotional support throughout the writing process. János was the guiding light of this project, and his memory and inspiration will be cherished forever. He set a high standard for scholarly integrity that I wish to respect and emulate for the rest of my life.
The other “doctor father” for this project – to use the German term for PhD supervisor – was Professor Joep Leerssen, whom I met only after I had started my PhD, but who was generous enough to accept my project for supervision without having met me personally. Our cooperation proved fruitful and we seemed to hit it off from the first moment. With his witty attitude, sharp observations, and brilliant insights, Joep made sure that I stayed on the right track and would finish my PhD on time. He monitored my work from a distance, and let me explore and work independently, but nonetheless he was there when I needed help and knew when to plan the supervision meetings, which were always stimulating and fun. Thanks to Joep’s efforts and persistent support, I finished my PhD within the official time of four years. It is also thanks to Joep’s encouragement – not to say nagging – that years after defending my dissertation, I returned to the topic of opera and nationalism and wrote this book. Though one of the most active and busy academics I have ever met, Joep took time to discuss my research with me and continued his mentoring role also during my postdoc period. His friendship is much appreciated and highly valued.
Once my PhD was in hand, the project was sidelined for several years devoted to intensive teaching and job juggling among three universities to make ends meet. Not until the dust settled, and I was fortunate enough to be granted tenure, could I focus once again on my own research. Gladly and yet anxiously I dug out the old folders and started rethinking the topic and revising the text. While reviewing the old manuscript, I realized that there was such a great distance between the person who wrote the dissertation and the one who was re-reading it that revision was no longer really an option. To do justice to almost a decade of thinking about the subject, I decided to start again from scratch, and to shape the raw material of my dissertation into a new book. Parts of this book have been given as conference talks, and some material has appeared in a different form in some of my published articles.
In this new phase, I was working on the manuscript in the teaching-free gaps. This piecemeal approach was sometimes painfully slow, but thanks to the warm encouragement of family and friends, eventually I did complete the book.
I owe special thanks to my parents for all their moral support during this busy period. My gratitude also goes out to my old friend Árpád, whose loving support and selfless help through precarious years kept my spirits up. Helga’s true friendship and brilliant insights on politics and Hungarian history also helped to overcome many difficulties, and her flat in Brussels provided much-needed refuge from the overwhelming pressures. My inseparable chums Géza and Józsi could always be counted on for comic relief and sympathy over a pint of beer.
I am also deeply grateful to the staff of The Hungarian Theater Museum and Institute and to Ildikó Sirató, the Director of the Department of Theater Studies of the National Széchényi Library for their generous assistance with primary materials. All images reproduced in this volume are from the Collection of Theater History at the Hungarian National Széchényi Library, Budapest. Likewise, I am very thankful for all the help offered by Ákos Farkas, the knowledgeable librarian at the Musical Collection of the Metropolitan Ervin Szabó Library, who answered all my questions with a patience and professionalism that I have rarely encountered. This intense period of writing was alleviated by visits to Omorovicza in Budapest, which became a haven of rest and reinvigoration. These outings left me relaxed and energized, and the scent of their Queen of Hungary mist enveloped my senses long after each trip. Their location near the opera house and the amazing hospitality of their staff made each occasion feel like a celebration of beauty, tradition, and art.
Last but not least, I am immensely grateful to my husband, Gene, whose patience, support, and generous help was essential to the completion of this book. He re-read this text many times, checking each chapter for consistency of style and coherence. His sharp eye for typos and ungrammaticalities, and his unparalleled editorial precision significantly improved the manuscript. Gene’s love and wisdom made me persevere to finish the book, and his invaluable affection, care, and companionship have kept me going ever since and make every moment of our lives an unforgettable adventure.