Swingin' Kecskemét

Spring festivals are celebrated throughout Hungary during the second half of March, most notably in Budapest, whose Spring Festival is the largest annual cultural event in Hungary . I attended a number of Spring Festival concerts in Budapest, but my original impetus for coming to Hungary was to attend the Bohém Ragime & Jazz Festival in Kecskemét. I’d first run across mention of this festival on this website. As a longtime fan of ragtime music, the more I researched the festival, the more intrigued I became.

The Bohém Festival demonstrates how an originally American form of music has spread around the globe. I soon realized that ragtime and Dixieland can’t be said to be "American" anymore – this music belongs to the world.

Even more striking was the range of musical talent the festival showcased. Musicians from places as diverse as Serbia, Canada, the Netherlands, and Norway, as well as an impressive contingent of homegrown Hungarian jazz musicians captured the carefree, generous spirit of traditional jazz. Well-known musicians such as Mimi Blais and Morten Gunnar Larsen were on the program, but so were lesser-known musicians that I would probably never have gotten the chance to hear otherwise.


The Belgrade Dixieland Orchestra
While the Bohém Festival has grown considerably since it first started, and now in fact encompasses performances in 17 cities over nine days, the core festival in Kecskemét retains a charmingly intimate feel. Strolling around town and lounging in the lobby of my hotel, I met performers I’d heard at the festival, not to mention that over the course of two days I struck up conversations with any number of festival attendees. Delightfully unexpected things happened, such as when the man sitting next to me at the "piano show" turned out to be the first performer on the program. And everyone I met seemed to be having a good time, musicians and audience members alike.

Apart from the Bohém Festival, Kecskemét is a lovely place to visit in and of itself. The center of town – comprising several lovely squares -- is a pedestrian zone. Cultural events and festivals are held in this spacious central area, which is graced by tall church spires and remarkable buildings such as the exquisite Town Hall and the Cifrapalota ("ornamental palace"), which is lavishly adorned with floral motifs.

Quick Tips:

Most of Kecskemét’s major sights can be reached on foot from the pedestrian center. By staying near this area, you’ll be right where the action is. Several of the town’s better hotels are located here, as well as the tourist information center (Tourinform), which is located at Kossuth tér 1. Note, however, that this office is closed on weekends except during the summer. The staff at Tourinform and several travel agencies located nearby can help can arrange excursions in the surrounding countryside, famed for its horse shows, wineries, and top-notch restaurants. Tourinform is a good place to get oriented by picking up a free town map/pamphlet, and the staff can also make suggestions for interesting things to do locally.

Complete travel packages are available for attendees of the Bohém Festival, including airfare, hotel accommodations, and ground transportation as well as various excursions in Hungary. These packages can be individualized to suit budget and taste but are especially geared toward to jazz enthusiasts. While I didn’t use any of the festival’s affiliated travel services, it was a simple matter to reserve tickets by e-mail for several jazz concerts. My tickets were held for me at the festival venue until I picked them up. Once in Kecskemét, I found the local organizers and festival volunteers to be quite helpful, particularly the festival director Tamás Ittzés, who does double duty as the bandleader of the Bohém Ragtime & Jazz Band.

You’ll find hotels and restaurants more affordable in Kecskemét than in Budapest, which is already a relative bargain by European standards. I had one of my best meals in Hungary in Kecskemét, but at a more modest price than comparable meals in Budapest. In fact, the one regret I have about my trip to Hungary was that I spent but two days in this lovely town. Kecskemét (population approx. 110,000) may be much smaller than Budapest, but its charms are certainly in greater proportion to its size. The local people are also less accustomed to (and thus more curious about) foreign visitors.


Kecskemét Town Hall
When communicating with non-English-speaking people in town, a few Hungarian phrases come in very handy, as evidence of good will if nothing else. Beyond that, speaking a little German is quite useful, as it’s the second most-widely spoken tongue in Hungary.

Best Way To Get Around:

Kecskemét is approximately 100 kilometers southeast of Budapest. Numerous trains depart daily from Budapest’s Nyugati Station to Kecskemét, most terminating at Szeged further on down the line. Check the MAV (Hungarian Railway) online timetable for exact departure times and fare. The journey to Kecskemét takes a little over an hour to over two hours, depending on the number of stops en route.

I took an Intercity train – plusher and more expensive -- on my outbound trip, but it inexplicably stopped en route and sat on the tracks for well over twenty minutes, making it a more time-consuming trip than my return by regular train. Deciphering the whereabouts of my reserved seat on the Intercity train proved baffling until a helpful fellow passenger directed me to the correct car and seat. Thus, I learned that the cryptic "023 kocsi" on my ticket indicated railway coach number 23 and that "hely: 35" referred to seat number 35 in that car.

On my return to Budapest, I had an unreserved second-class seat on a commuter train. I ended up sharing a nonsmoking compartment with a sociable English-speaking Hungarian woman whose American boyfriend played for a Hungarian basketball team.

Although the center of Kecskemét is only ten minutes’ walk from the train station, with luggage I found it more convenient to hail a taxi outside the station for the short trip to my hotel. The fare was approximately 800 HUF. When the taxi driver got out of the cab after I paid him and vigorously shook my hand, I suspected that the metered fare (to which I added a generous tip) had probably been for a slightly out-of-the-way route. This was borne out when I paid 600 HUF for the return trip to the station in a cab summoned by the desk clerk. Either way, it was only a matter of an extra dollar or so, with the higher fare being about US.65 at current exchange rates.

Hotel Aranyhomok was the base for the Bohém Ragtime & Jazz Festival for musicians and out-of-town audience members alike. In addition to being quite a nice hotel, the location couldn’t have been more convenient, just off Kecskemét’s main square and only a few blocks from the festival venue.

While booking a single room online, I noticed there were two room types, one modestly priced at around 34 euros and the other nearly double that price. As I was staying only one night and would be spending little time in my room, I opted for the budget room, which I found spartan-looking but clean and pleasant overall. Frankly, I prefer simplicity to some of the attempts at luxury décor I’ve seen in various hotels. My small fifth-floor room had a view of the town, while the larger and pricier rooms overlooked the picturesque town square.

The bathroom was a marvel of compactness, meaning it was tiny. In Hungary, however, I found large baths only at a Hilton. I have no real grudge against small bathrooms other than the fact that there is rarely anywhere to set toiletries, a thing that vexes me as it would be such a simple matter to install a small shelf or two. There was a peculiar plumbing arrangement I never fully mastered, with some sort of valve switching water from the faucet to the shower. However, in all fairness, I’m a well-known plumbing idiot, having recently found the workings of my own parents' guest bathroom baffling even after they were carefully explained to me.

The Aranyhomok is classed as one of Hungary's many "wellness" hotels by virtue of its fairly new spa facilities located in the basement. They include a modest-sized pool, Jacuzzi, aromatic steam bath, sauna, massage therapy room, and solarium. Soon after checking in, I ventured down to the basement, where I found a Hungarian family splashing happily in the pool. The attendant didn’t speak English, but through gestures and a few Hungarian words, I let him know that I wanted a key to a locker and a towel. (Later I read in the guest information card that the normal procedure is to get a terry robe from front desk.) I made use of the steam-room, which smelled pleasantly of chamomile, and the large Jacuzzi. Refreshed, I was ready to go out and explore the town.

Breakfast was included with the room, a decent Continental spread that included eggs and sausages. There was that bane of coffee lovers worldwide, however – a machine that dispensed Nescáfe sludge in lieu of the genuine article. I made do with a cup of tea, chatting over breakfast with the bassist from the Belgrade Dixieland Orchestra.

The staff were quite obliging and efficient. They stored my luggage for me, looked up train times to Budapest, and quickly summoned a taxi later on when I was in a rush to catch my train. All in all, I found Hotel Aranyhomok a pleasant and convenient place to stay.

They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and from what I’ve observed there’s some truth to this. And a woman’s heart? Are diamonds a girl’s best friend? Is the way paved with roses?

If the truth be told, my heart is up for grabs to the man – any man – who takes my coat with a flourish, bids me to sit wherever I please, pulls out a chair at the table, and then solicitously asks what he can bring me. This makes me a complete pushover for just about any waiter in Hungary, but especially the attentive young men at Túróczy Restaurant & Coffeehouse.

Stepping into the quiet, dark-wood-paneled main dining room, I’m greeted by a phalanx of waiters, white linen towels draped neatly across forearms. I choose a table overlooking the square and ask for tea. By the time I’ve made my selection from the menu (printed in Hungarian, German, and English), the table has been set with a crisp white tablecloth, linen napkin, and polished silverware. A vanilla-scented tea is brewing in a pot set on a crystal warming stand, and I’m settling nicely into the Old World charm of the place.

I have the greatest respect for what Eastern Europeans can do with a dollop of sour cream, a cucumber, and a bit of dill, so I start with a cucumber salad that exceeds my expectations. Thin slices of cucumber have been soaked in a light (and not bitter) vinegar, then heaped with a thick, herb sour cream sprinkled with paprika. The presentation is beautiful, with garnishes of Italian parsley and lettuce, the salad on a thin china plate set atop larger one. I try not to eat in unseemly haste.


For my main course, in deference to the notion (if not the actuality) of a simple lunch, I choose something from a page entitled, "Light Selections" or words to that effect. I can’t say I’m dreadfully disappointed when my "light lunch" - slices of grilled eggplant and zucchini - arrives swimming in a sumptuous white cheese sauce. I refrain from scooping up the remnants of the sauce with my bread (but just barely).

I lose all sense of restraint at this point, however, and when the waiter materializes moments after I have finished the "light selection," and asks, "Anything else?" I don’t hesitate. I’d seen an intriguing dessert on the menu, which proves to be a distant cousin of baked Alaska – a light sponge cake filled with vanilla ice cream/raspberry sorbet, encased in chocolate, set atop of pool of hazelnut-chocolate sauce, then drizzled artfully with raspberry sauce.

Afterward, I pay what seems like a very modest sum for such a queenly feast, even factoring in a generous tip. I arise with a satisfied sigh. My coat reappears. The waiter smiles and bows slightly from his slim waist as I depart.

Now, I ask you, why can’t I have lunch here every day?

The Kesckemét Spring Festival (Kecskeméti Tavaszi Fesztivál) is one of the many spring festivals that blossom throughout Hungary during March. Two weeks of events, including concerts of choral music, orchestras, chamber ensembles, folk music, and jazz vie with theater performances, puppet shows, and arts and crafts exhibits for the visitor’s attention. In addition, booths are set up in Kecskemét’s main square selling local crafts and foods.

Most of my brief stay in Kecskemét was spent attending the 15th Bohém Ragtime & Jazz Festival, but before and after concerts on Friday and Saturday, I strolled through the town square, enjoying the lively festival scene. Townsfolk had turned out in droves in this broad central area, and were buying balloons for their children, admiring hand-embroidered linens and other handicrafts, and listening to the exhortations of politicians running in the upcoming election.

I noticed a booth selling "American" hot dogs, the booth’s awning displaying both the American and Confederate flags. Equally perplexing, the stand’s sign featured a hot dog neatly garnished with slices of cucumber, surely a very Hungarian idea of a classic American food. Thinking of American interpretations of goulash, however. I reflected that surely the Hungarians had come closer to the mark with hot dogs than Americans had with the Hungarian staple.

Kecskemét’s legacy as a major market town might explain why five local chefs undertook the Herculean task of constructing the world’s largest "vegetable statue" – six meters tall, six meters wide, and three meters deep. In a marathon build that lasted three days and three nights, the five chefs -- Károly Varga, Krisztián Kesckeméti, Sándor Kovács, László Szabó, and Láslzo Farago -- painstakingly handcarved the vegetables used in assembling the statue. The resulting 3,260-kilogram edifice set a new Guinness World Record.


A new world record is set.
After being placed on display next to the Town Hall, the colorful statue attracted throngs of spectators, who stood marveling at the complex arrangement symbolizing three elements: land, sea, and sky. Sure enough, the sculpture included many sea creatures such as lobsters and fish carved from eggplants, radishes, carrots, rutabagas, cabbages, squash, and other vegetables; with terrestrial elements represented by vegetable trees, flowers, and animals; and airborne creatures such as birds and butterflies also in abundance. It truly was an astonishing sight.

Not far from the record-breaking vegetable statue, children played on a marble statue that doubled as a slide, while their parents looked indulgently on, chatting amicably with their neighbors. Bicyclists wove slowly around the perimeter of the crowd, leashed dogs greeted other leashed dogs with the sniffing ritual peculiar to canine species, and stolid workmen sat at wooden tables, munching on sausages and drinking beer. I sampled a delicious sort of pancake made entirely (I think) of vegetables and strolled around the area admiring the town’s architectural treasures, whiling away the time between jazz concerts in an aimless and entirely pleasurable fashion.

"Ragtime dead? Hell, it ain't even sick!" - Bob Darch

The Bohém Ragtime & Jazz Festival is the largest jazz festival in Hungary. It has been going strong since 1992 under the direction of Tamás Ittzés, who just happens to also be an accomplished classical violinist, composer, pianist, jazz bandleader, recording artist, and high school music teacher. Actually, thinking about all the things that Tamás does makes me slightly dizzy.

When I e-mailed for tickets to the festival, I got a prompt reply from Tamás, which was reassuring as initially I wasn’t quite sure if my plan to travel to Hungary to attend a jazz festival was inspired whim or mere folly. Upon my arrival in Kecskemét, I went as instructed to pick up tickets at the concert venue, and sure enough there was Tamás, surrounded by of a flurry of festival activity. He was talking to several people simultaneously, but when I caught his eye and identified myself, he bounded forward and off we went off in search of "Monica," who was in charge of tickets. Tamás spoke rapid-fire and idiomatic English, and I was impressed to learn he was completely self-taught. Tickets in hand, I was set for the evening and the next day’s performances.

That evening, the lobby of the Erdei Ferenc Cultural Center was a festive scene, with the Smiling Ragtime Band providing background music as the audience filtered in and casually mingled. The concert hall doors opened at 6:30, and I found my seat—smack in the center in the sixth row back. Perfect.

The opening group was the eight-member Belgrade Dixieland Orchestra, the only Dixieland band in Serbia & Montenegro—in fact, as far as they know they’re the only Dixieland band in the Balkans, period. Thankfully, bandleader Vladimir Rackovic spoke English, the lingua franca of the jazz world, and introduced the numbers, including such perennials as "The Tiger Rag" and "Yes Sir, That’s My Baby." A few songs into the set, a striking dark-haired woman, vocalist, Bobana Djordjevic, came on stage. She used smoldering vocals and a feather boa to full effect during such numbers as "St. James’ Infirmary," and "Basin Street Blues," which were both dedicated to the people of New Orleans.



The Belgrade Dixieland Orchestra
The set’s highlights included clarinetist Ivan Svager’s solo in "Wildcat Blues" and trombonist Ljubomir Matijaca on "St. Louis Blues." The band even performed a traditional Serbian folksong to a Dixieland tempo. After each number, the audience showed its appreciation in the characteristic Hungarian manner, at first clapping individually and randomly, but then, at an uncannily consensual moment, the random clapping would coalesce in a unified rhythm, increasing in tempo and volume in proportion to the audience’s enthusiasm.

Next on stage was the Aulos Saxophone Quartet, four classical clarinetists trained at the famed Liszt Academy in Budapest whose love of ragtime had brought them together. I hadn’t ever heard ragtime performed by a saxophone quartet, but actually the layered sound of the soprano, alto, tenor, and bass saxes provided an interesting tonal color that was quite appealing. The quartet performed lesser-known pieces by James Scott, Tom Turpin, and Joseph Lamb in transcriptions done by Zoltán Szűcs.

Outside the crush bar during intermission, I collared Ivan Maksimovic, the English-speaking bassist from the Belgrade Dixieland Orchestra. It turned out he’d studied at the Berklee College of Music in Boston, which I foolishly confused with Berkeley on the left coast until he set me straight.

The final performers of the evening, Andor’s Jazz Band, hailed from the Netherlands. At least, that is most of them did. The following day in the hotel lobby, I met the band’s trumpeter, who turned out to be from Delaware, not too far from my hometown in Maryland. When I asked him how he came to be playing in a Dutch jazz band, he regaled me with a saga that started when he graduated from music school in the States and landed his first professional job as a bugler at Churchill Downs. Before each race, including, of course, the Kentucky Derby, out he’d step to perform the ra-ra-ta-ta-ta strains of the "First Call."

There’s no two ways about it. You meet some interesting people when you travel.


But back to the festival. Loquacious bandleader Andor Lukács introduced each number in fragments of Hungarian generously interlarded with Russian, English, German, and French phrases. It was, oddly enough, almost understandable, though I had the feeling that the Hungarian audience may not have exactly relished being addressed as "Gospozha ee Gospodin" (Russian for "ladies and gentlemen"). Once the intros ended, however, his band effortlessly swung into compositions by Duke Ellington, Fletcher Henderson, and other bandleaders of the 1920’s and 30’s. Pieces such as "Delta Bound," "Dream a Little Dream of Me," "In a Sentimental Mood," and "The Man I Love" proved crowd pleasers.


It was getting on midnight when the concert ended and I left the Cultural Center to walk the blessedly few short blocks to my hotel. After five hours of jazz, I felt I’d been around the world, both musically and linguistically.

The Bohem Festival’s Saturday program offered a full day of events, with concerts scheduled in the morning, afternoon, and evening at the Erdei Ferenc Cultural Center. Daytime concerts were held in a large conference/display area rather than the concert hall, providing an even more intimate venue, especially for those (such as me) who came in early and secured seats in the front. Jazz photos by Péter Siklós were on display on the walls, making a fitting backdrop for the performers. Festival director Tamás Ittzés served as emcee (as he had the previous evening), introducing each each band or musician in Hungarian and then briefly in English.

The Freeman Jazz Band got things rolling for the morning session.. This Budapest-based group plays music firmly rooted in the 20’s and 30’s, with numbers such as "Ain’t Misbehavin’," "On the Sunny Side of the Street," and "All of Me." Pál Gáspár’s engaging (and occasionally scat-style) vocals and the easy interaction between the band members drew the audience into this Budapest-based band’s performance.

Next up was the four-member Dixieland orchestra, Papa Jazz, playing not only early jazz standards such as "Alexander’s Ragtime Band, but also featuring their own arrangements of music as diverse as the bossa nova standard "Corcovado" and bebop versions of standards such as "Too Marvelous for Words." And here I just have to interject that there’s something irresistibly appealing about Johnny Mercer lyrics -- "You’re much too much / and just too very very / to ever be / in Webster’s dictionary." Love it.


Papa Jazz - guitarist Attila Sidoo and Antal Szabó on tuba.
After a long lunch break, the afternoon session got under way with a much-anticipated "Piano Show." János Apáti, an active bandleader and frequent member of various jazz All Star groups in Hungary was first up. Highlights of his set included a medley of George Gershwin tunes and another rendition of Fats Waller’s signature tune, "Ain’t Misbehavin’." Iván Nagy, who cites Canadian pianist John Arpin as one of his major inspirations, was next to perform. His boogie-woogie infused "Lady Be Good" was what I enjoyed most in his set, reminding me a bit of Vince Guaraldi (of "Linus and Lucy" fame).

The musician whose name I had been most excited to see on the festival program was the final performer, Morten Gunnar Larsen. This Norwegian pianist is widely regarded as one of the world’s best interpreters of classic ragtime and stride piano. Whenever I hear him on Internet radio stations such as Elite Syncopations and Rocky Mountain Ragtime, I stop whatever I’m doing and just listen.

While Larsen’s recordings are impressive, his live performances are mesmerizing, combining amazing technical dexterity with a deep understanding of where the music comes from. Some pianists of the "ragtime revival" suffer (in my opinion) from one of two tendencies: either a slavish devotion to the way the music was written, rendering it essentially lifeless, or a tendency to wildly improvise. But Larsen seems to effortlessly combine the sense of history that’s key to ragtime with a strong personal sense of the music, never crossing the all-too-tempting line into the self indulgent.

He began with two classic pieces, James Scott’s "Grace and Beauty," and Scott Joplin’s "Rose Leaf Rag," playing with a clarity that underscored the fact that these composers were essentially working from a classical tradition. In his comments prefacing his next selection, I was surprised to learn (though in retrospect it made perfect sense) that Larsen had studied under the great jazz pianist Eubie Blake, whom I’d seen waaaaay back in the 1970’s when Blake was in his eighties or thereabouts. (It was hard to tell, really, as Blake habitually exaggerated his age.) Larsen performed the "Charleston Rag" in a manner suggesting that he could channel Eubie’s spirit at will.

But it’s Jelly Roll Morton, if anyone, that Larsen is most closely associated with. His off-Broadway run in "Jelly Roll!" in the 1990’s was critically acclaimed, winning him an Obie award. Larsen performed several pieces by Morton, including a jazz tango and a "stomp" version of the "Maple Leaf Rag." But most interesting, perhaps, was a version of "Tiger Rag," which had (according to Morton) its roots in mannered French quadrilles. As the genteel music began, you could visualize Creole dancers in crinolines and white gloves assembling – but then, unexpectedly, the music veered off into a delightful romp, complete with "tiger" piano growls.


Before another Jelly Roll Morton piece, "The Fingerbreaker," Larsen recounted how Morton, contemptuous of stride pianists who played at break-neck speed, wrote this caricature piece, which starts off fast and gets faster. Larsen played this bravura show-stopper without seeming to break a sweat – though when he stood up to take a bow at the end of the piece, he grinned and shook out his fingers.

Fingerbreaker indeed!


He closed with an arrangement he’d done of some "Norwegian classics" – beginning, I believe, with Sinding’s poetic "Rustle of Spring." However, the piece rapidly turned into a ragtime caper in true Jelly Roll fashion, playfully moving in and out of classical and ragtime modes. I loved this piece, a delightful combination of precision and freedom.

After two terrific programs during the day, it was hard to imagine that the evening’s concert could equal what I’d already heard, but it managed to. Unfortunately, I had to catch the last train back to Budapest that evening, so I missed one of the festival highlights, the Ophelia Ragtime Orchestra, formed by Morten Gunnar Larsen to play orchestrated ragtime and early jazz music. Still, seeing the Bohém Ragtime & Jazz Band was a treat, and they were obviously great favorites in their hometown, playing to a packed and appreciative hall.

Their performance featured two guest artists from Germany, trumpeter Herbert Christ and clarinetist/saxophonist Matthias Seuffert. One of the first numbers was an engaging rendition of "The Honeymoon Rag," followed by catchy big-band rumba which featured several clever "Carmen" quotes. (Unfortunately, the numbers weren’t announced in English, so I didn’t catch all the particulars.) However, I did note "Black Bottom Stomp" by Jelly Roll Morton and "Everybody Loves My Baby" (with many jokes on the side about "my baby loves everybody"). It was a toe-tapping program of infectious, upbeat jazz.

Midway through the program, two men came onstage and presented the bandleader, Tamás Ittzés, with an unusual instrument, a "trumpet violin" - or was it violin trumpet? Whatever it was, I’d never seen anything like it – a narrow, elongated stringed base with a trumpet horn on the business end. The man next to me, whom I’d struck up a conversation with before the concert, obligingly whispered a translation of this bit of the program for me, explaining that the two men were sponsors of the festival and just happened to also be collectors of unusual musical instruments. When played, the instrument sounded like a violin pitched through a Victrola, rather distinctive but not something I’d imagine will displace either the trumpet or violin in jazz line-ups at any point in the future.



Tamás Ittzés (far left) plays the violin trumpet

I was keeping a nervous eye on my watch toward the end of the extended set, mindful that I had a train to catch. (I cursed myself for having prepaid my hotel in Budapest. I’d been convinced I needed to be there early on Sunday, but as it turned out, the plans I’d made for that day never did pan out.) I was seated right in the middle of an long row, and I dreaded having to exit across eighteen people on my way out. It finally boiled down to a matter of "now or never" between numbers, so I arose and mumbled "bocsánat" (excuse me) a good dozen times on my way out.

Then it was a mad dash back to the hotel to retrieve my luggage and call a cab, which arrived in a jiffy and whisked me off to the train station. I arrived with only minutes to spare, but as it turned out the train was late. I could probably have managed to stay for the encore. Still, beyond the missed music, it was with considerable regret that I left Kecskemét, a place I felt peculiarly fond of in a short time. Curse my restless wandering.

"My heart is warm with the friends I make,
And better friends I’ll not be knowing;
Yet there isn’t a train I wouldn’t take,
No matter where it’s going."

~ Edna St. Vincent Milay, "Travel"