On the cover of Muzsikas’ new album, “Morning Star” (Hannibal), the Hungarian string band stands with their instruments while a dancing couple whirls into the picture frame. It is a reminder that even though the quintet is dedicated to preserving the centuries-old folk music of its native country, there is nothing austere or particularly dated about the band’s mission. Muzsikas is, first and foremost, a heck of a dance band.
“When we first started playing this music in the cities 20 years ago, we played in clubs,” recalls bassist Daniel Hamar. “This was music that had been played in villages so isolated that not even tourists had visited them, so it was a new experience for everybody. At first, only a few people knew the traditional dances, and the others would stand around them in a circle and watch and learn as we played. But soon everyone came to dance. This is not music meant to be played at concerts; it’s music that is part of a community.”
From those humble beginnings, Muzsikas (pronounced MOO-Zhee-kahsh) has emerged from the vast “world-music” ghetto to international prominance. Its records have been released steadily in the West since the mid-’80s, and vocalist Marta Sebestyen has emerged as star in her own right; her voice was prominently featured on the soundtrack to the Academy Award-winning movie “The English Patient” and on albums by Peter Gabriel and the French electronic group Deep Forest.
Sebestyen, who sings in seven languages, forges connections between cultures on her solo records, dabbling in Irish ballads and Indian ragas, and blending traditional instruments with electronic textures. But with Muszikas, she and the band explore the sounds of their native culture with a single-minded devotion to period instruments and traditional repertoire.
“We tried to update the sound with more modern instruments, but it was a horrible thing — to this music you can’t add anything, only take away,” Hamar says. The bassist was a college-educated, classically trained musician when he first stumbled upon the folk music of his country.
“My first impression was that it was horrible, out of tune and that the harmonies did not fit the melodies,” he says. “But once I had to transcribe a bass part from a tape of one of these folk songs, and the more I listened to it the more I fell in love with the music. I remember as a boy hearing the Beatles for the first time — this was the same kind of breath of fresh air. This music felt honest; it came from the heart and I was determined to find out more .”
Even though he was investigating his native music, Hamar needed a passport for his journey. Many of Hungary’s folk traditions survived in the villages of Transylvania, which had been annexed by Romania after World War I.
“The music became one of the only ways for these people to preserve their culture, especially under the Communist regime,” says Hamar, whose comments amplify the political significance of Muzsikas staples such as “Rabnota” (The Prisoner’s Song). “Music was shared by the entire community and used for every occasion — births, birthdays, feast days, weddings, funerals. It was a part of everyday life.” Musicians are so valued in these communities, Hamar says, that they are excused from the daily agrarian work cycle to concentrate on their craft.
Muszikas formed when Hamar and a few likeminded musicians got together to play for fun on weekends. “At first we were playing this music for a few hundred people in Budapest who were curious about it,” he says. “Now we have fans in Los Angeles and San Francisco and Chicago coming to see our shows. There is a feeling with this music that is beyond language.”
Hamar says he and the band are still working to develop the proper technique and improvisational feel that the music requires. “We strived for perfection in making the records, and we would record very patiently in multi-track studios, but found that was not enough,” he says. “So for this latest record (“Morning Star”) we went back to recording it as the people in the villages played it, together as a group. The musicians in the village would play a melody different every time; `we play it as it comes,’ they would say.”
On songs such as “Round Dance of Gyimes,” the rapid-fire footwork of a traditional dancer is heard alongside the insistent drone of Hamar’s hit-gardon, an instrument exclusive to the Transylvanian mountain villagers that is a cross between a drum and cello. As the tempo becomes increasingly urgent, a fiddle and Sebastyen’s voice weave a trance-like melody.
“In the mountains, the climate is bad and the people have to work very hard, and this music becomes a way of releasing tension — it works the people into a trance, and they are taken to a state of catharsis by the musicians,” Hamar says.
It is no wonder, having experienced the power of this music first-hand in the villages, that Hamar and Muzsikas are driven to perform it.
“I feel we have inherited this music from our ancestors and we are not allowed to throw it away,” he says. “It’s our duty to give to the next generation.”
Muzsikas has set about this daunting task in the most enticing manner impossible. Rather than treating the music as a museum piece, they take joy in its immediacy.
“There is deep feeling in this music,” Hamar says. “In the village, the musicians aren’t stars. They are servants of the community. In a sense, everybody plays the music; the musicians just happen to be holding the instruments. We try to make that kind of atmosphere on the stage.”
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the facts
Muzsikas
7 and 10 p.m. Friday
Old Town School of Folk Music
909 W. Armitage Ave.
$19
773-525-7793
