Ernst von Dohnányi: A Song of Life

One: 1894-1897

The year was 1894. A train advanced, puffing and fuming, toward Budapest. It contained no comfortable Pullman cars and no luxurious dining cars. Those who could not afford comfortable coaches had to travel on these slow passenger trains, which stopped at every obscure village while the travelers patiently awaited their destinations. In a corner, at a window, sat the seventeen-year-old Ernst von Dohnányi. He was a fair-haired youth of medium height, and his figure was well proportioned : slim with broad shoulders. His complexion was light, and his features were well formed, almost delicate. His blue eyes had a frank and cheerful expression; when his lips smiled, his eyes smiled too. Those lips, however, showed determination. It is no wonder that many girls approached him with admiration and devotion. In return, he was interested in them; he was interested in everything that was beautiful. Someone once asked Dohn ányi if he had been in love when he wrote one of his early compositions. He answered with his customary smile, “I was, and I always am, in love.” With these words he did not mean an attraction for women only. He meant his love for art, nature, beauty, and all of humanity. While looking out the window and observing the beauties of autumn— forests covered with gold and red leaves, fields of ripening grapes, and flowers in cottage gardens—a faraway look came into Dohnányi’s eyes. He enjoyed nature, every bit of it, but at the same time his mind wandered to music. He was creating melodies; tunes were awakening in his soul. Most of his compositions did not come to life at the writing table, but sprang from his mind and heart while he was walking in the streets, listening halfattentively to the chatting of noisy company, or even sitting in a train, as he was now, apparently lost in observing the view. “I am never bored,” he used to say. “I have my thoughts to keep me company.” Melodies and ideas developed in his mind, and he wrote them down only when they took a definite shape. Perhaps that was why he was usually silent even in the midst of a crowd. “Schumann was even less talkative,” he would say when people reproached him for his silence. “He expressed himself through music.” ONE 1894–1897  The train arrived in Budapest, and the boy was greeted by his uncle, Erno= Szlabey.1 Although Dohnányi had been in the capital several times as a child, he was still fascinated by the vibrations and traffic of this constantly growing city. The thought of staying here and studying at the National Hungarian Royal Academy of Music was an exciting one. Dohnányi’s uncle accompanied him to the room that had been rented for him on Hunyadi Square, one block from the music school. The place was simple, and the furniture was shabby, tasteless, and dull; his family could not afford a luxurious apartment. After his cozy home in Pozsony, Dohnányi felt disappointed. Then he resigned himself to it, just as later on in his life he would adapt himself to many painful situations without complaint . His philosophy was: “If I can alter a situation, I will. If I cannot, I must accept it and not grieve over it.” Dohnányi’s first task was to enroll in the University to study the Hungarian and German languages as well as literature. This was not Dohnányi’s desire; his only interest was in music. Nevertheless, he obeyed the wishes of his father, who wanted him to earn a diploma in a more secure profession. Six months later, however, Professor Dohnányi would realize the full extent of his son’s talent and permit him to drop his academic studies. The process of matriculation consumed a great deal of Dohnányi’s time. In addition , he met old friends from Pozsony, including a young man named Julius Zachár, who was only one year older than Dohnányi and had been his playmate during the summers in Breznóbánya. Zachár was already a student at the University, studying law.2 He tried to persuade Dohnányi to join a fraternity to which he belonged. It was several days before Dohnányi presented himself at the Academy of Music. Because of this negligence, he was not informed of the date of the piano examination for admission, and he consequently missed it. Professor Thomán, who had...