Adventures Close to Homehttp://bulldozia.com/adventures/index.php?action=print&id=563
|One of the final touches to the flat before flinging it open to the unsuspecting property-vultures was to replace the floor covering in the kitchen closet. This is what was underneath the old linoleum.|
|These are pages from a newspaper from September 1915, not long after this tenement was built. I don't suppose whoever put them there intended to let them fester until they resembled a Kurt Schwitters collage, and if they did they left them too long to be able to claim to have invented Dada a year before Hugo Ball and Tristan Tzara got together at the Cabaret Voltaire in Zurich.|
Given the date I was expecting details of a military campaign but instead the news is dominated by the recall of Konstantin Dumba, the last Austro-Hungarian ambassador to the United States, following accusations of espionage.
I was not familiar with this episode of the First World War and had to look it up. I couldn't find any link between Dumba and Glasgow, but when I told someone the story at work, I was surprised to learn that before the war the Austro-Hungarian empire was represented here by the famous shipping magnate and art collector William Burrell who held the post of consul until 1906, according to the Dictionary of National Biography.
It seems unlikely the two ever met (Dumba was serving as Minister to Serbia at the time) and Burrell's acquaintance with Central Europe may not have been extensive, if the recollections of an encounter in 1932 are to be believed. This was on the occasion of the first visit to Glasgow by Béla Bartók who was a guest of the Scottish composer Erik Chisholm (himself sometimes compared to Bartók as a modernist who drew extensively on the idioms of his country's folk and traditional music).
Chisholm's wife, Diana, recalled:
When we knew Bartók was coming to Glasgow to stay with us, the first thing, which worried us, was - language difficulty. None of us, of course, could speak one word of Hungarian. Would our famous guest be any better with English? I immediately bought an 'English-cum-Hungarian' dictionary, (by the time I left Scotland I had entertained so many continental composers, musicians, and singers, that I had a very comprehensive collection of 'English-cums'). I pictured myself standing on the station platform anxiously scanning the face of every male, who, in my opinion, looked 'foreign', and gesticulating wildly with the dictionary. However, I was rescued (or thought I was) from this predicament by the Hungarian Consul in Glasgow, Sir William Burrell, who telephoned me the day before Bartók's arrival to say that he also would like to come to the station to receive this distinguished visitor from Hungary.Whether Sir William was still the Consul at that time I have been unable to confirm. I don't know a word of Hungarian either, although I did find something else when I was clearing out the flat. I had not opened my copy of Bartók's 44 Duos for two violins in more than thirty years.
In a fit of insanity I disturbed my violin out of hibernation. The downstairs neighbours must have been grateful the episode was very brief.
1. Erik Chisholm, 'Béla Bartók: The Shy Genius', available for download from the Erik Chisholm website.
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