Berlioz’s Adaptation of the Rákóczi March

According to protocol, the various categories of the Nobel Prize are presented one after the other, with a brief musical intermission in between. Right after Szent-Györgyi received his award and returned to his seat, the orchestra – hidden from view – began playing the Rákóczi March with its rapid, jubilant, resounding trills.

The piece was, in fact, Hector Berlioz’s 1846 adaptation of the Rákóczi March, which premiered in Budapest that same year to such success that the composer decided to include it in La Damnation de Faust (The Damnation of Faust), the opera he was working on at the time, titling the adaptation Marche hongroise (Hungarian March).

On December 11, 1937, the daily Pesti Napló wrote:
“No national anthems are played here, for this is not a celebration of rival nations but of the international scientific brotherhood that Albert Szent-Györgyi both spoke of and exemplified in his life and work. Instead, the orchestra performs a song that belongs to the people whose son is being honored for his contributions to the world. They play the resonant, booming, and snappy tune of Prince Rákóczi’s Kuruc rebels and Captain Tamás Esze’s freedom-fighting foot soldiers, as arranged by Berlioz, a great son of the French nation, Rákóczi’s ally.”

One might wonder how the Rákóczi March fits in with the theme of Faust – something Berlioz himself addresses in his memoirs. In fact, the march serves as the finale of the first part of the piece. This is fitting, as, at the beginning of the plot, Berlioz places his hero, Faust, in Hungary, where he wanders dreamily through the rural plains. Suddenly, a troop of hussars appears on the horizon. It is their gallop that the Hungarian march symbolizes.

When a journalist from the theatrical weekly Délibáb asked Szent-Györgyi’s wife about her most memorable moment in Sweden, she responded: “It was, of course, the presentation of the Nobel Prize – a moment more beautiful than any I have ever experienced. During those moments, what impressed me most was the demeanor of the King of Sweden, because, when the music began to play, he started beating the rhythm with forceful hand gestures” (Délibáb, January 23, 1938).

Who suggested the inclusion of the Rákóczi March in the program is unknown. One might assume that it was Szent-Györgyi himself, but all he said was this: “No one gets to hear their national anthem played in their honor; instead, a special tune is played for each person – one that brings their homeland to mind. Indeed, it was a thoughtful gesture to play the Rákóczi March when it was the Hungarian laureate’s turn to receive the prize” (as quoted in Délmagyarország, a local daily newspaper in Southern Hungary, on January 22, 1938). Incidentally, the idea may have originated with the internationally renowned Belgian conductor Désiré Defauw, who, at a concert by the Szeged Philharmonic Orchestra in November, conducted the Rákóczi March in honor of Szent-Györgyi.