LEARN TO GO BEYOND YOUR MUST SEE LISZT
When visiting somewhere new, with your ‘must sees’ decided in advance, it is often the lesser known ‘sights’ or the small, understated museums that make the most lasting impression. I can remember how excited I was about visiting the worldfamous Hermitage in St Petersburg, only to be completely overwhelmed by the scale of it, and giving up after seeing only a tiny amount of what was on display.
Last weekend I was in Budapest on a two-night hop. It was my first visit and, yes, I managed to work my way through the major sights on my ‘to see’ list. Parliament building? Tick. Gellert Spa? Tick. St Stephen’s basilica? Tick. Heroes’ Square? Tick. Great Market Hall? Tick. Opera House? Tick.
And so it continued...stunning buildings, great sights, and all contributing to the overall experience.
And then, last Monday morning, with a few hours to spare before having to leave for the airport, I decided to take myself off in search of a small museum dedicated to the composer Franz Liszt. I knew that it was somewhere off Andrassy Avenue, the gracious 19th-century street that runs for over two kilometres from near St Stephen’s basilica right up to Heroes’ Square.
I had some difficulty finding Mr Liszt, I must confess – but I persevered. Eventually, having passed up and down through the city’s main Oktogon junction more than once, I finally located the museum in a side-street.
In the door I went, to be met by the sound of a soprano, somewhere in the building, practising her scales. I was the only visitor and so mine was the solitary coat in the little cloakroom, hung there by the smiling, elderly man in attendance before I then climbed the stairs to the first floor. (The soprano was still at it, while a pianist had by now struck up in another room, both of them contributing greatly to the atmosphere.)
The little ‘museum’ on the first floor is essentially the three rooms that constituted Liszt’s apartment, and the place where he lived during the last few years of his life, from 1881 until his death in 1886. There are manuscripts, some personal photographs, a number of pianos and other items relating to the life and times of the composer.
I particularly liked his study/ bedroom, where you’ll find the desk on which he composed his music, and also his small ‘glass’ piano. There are also family portraits on the walls here. I loved the atmosphere in this intimate little museum, where the spirit of the composer seemed still to inhabit the space.
I know I was lucky to be there on a weekday morning in November, with the place devoid of tourists. And I was also lucky to be there when musicians were practising in other parts of the building, adding to the experience.
So yes, I’ll always remember the majesty of the Hungarian parliament building on the banks of the Danube, and the beauty of St Stephen’s basilica, and the atmosphere as the stallholders set up shop in the Great Market Hall.
But nor will I ever forget the little gem of a museum, just off Andrassy Avenue.