15 ) WOMEX
BEA PALYA, SINGER-SONGWRITER
making song of flesh “Alone or with a band – it’s all the same, it always enchants me.” Un-reigned foal, turned into Pegasus. Her achievements are only outnumbered by her plans. See where Bea Palya comes from, where she is now, and where she is heading. Dal+Szerző: Why music? Bea Palya: My first encounter with music was through the radio, which I adored. I was a kid in the ‚70s and ‚80s, and who was playing on the radio? Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston, and, I don’t know, Demjén [Hungarian pop-rock singer], those are the few I remember now. The other musical thread that came into my life just as forcefully around the age of six was Hungarian folk music. I’m from a village called Bag, which used to have a heritage group with world-class training. I was admitted at the age of six, [I learned] singing and dance, and I lived in it. I remember the Székely forgatós, and the Kalotaszegi [dances], and I tried to eavesdrop on the lyrics of what the grown-ups sang during that hobbling dance. I was crazy for these [songs]; I thought they were wonderful. My music teacher noticed, and sent me to a singing competition in second or third grade. I won. Let it be remembered that my preparation began with the teacher giving me a [folk song] collection tape with a Moldovan elderly woman singing the prayer Én felkelék jó reggel hajnalban. But I didn’t have a cassette player, and was too ashamed to admit it. I took the tape home and wondered how I would learn the music. A few days later, I still couldn’t listen to it, so my teacher lent me a cassette player, which had buttons of the size of my fist. D+SZ: Does music run in your family? BP: To tell you the truth, both of my grandpas played music, but neither did it for a living. Whenever he wasn’t playing the double bass, one of them, a man of Gypsy origin, pushed a cart in the fields, fed the horses, or helped with the cow that was giving birth. He played music, and went when duty called. My other grandpa was an art lover. He was member of the village theatre group, and he played the zither and the mandolin, but I didn’t know him. There is a love of music in me from both of my parents, that’s for sure, and they had a desire to integrate more music into my life. Neither of them, however, counted on it becoming my profession. For a long time, the conflict of my
life was, “OK, you’re singing, but when will you have a proper job?” Accepting this as a career was terrifying for them. Then things changed slowly, gradually; and of course, “We saw you on telly!” helped. D+SZ: When did it become crystal clear that you wanted to sing? BP: It was apparent quite early on that I am most happy when I express myself through song and dance. I studied at the Apáczai Secondary School, along with kids of diplomats, who knew three languages by the time they reached 8th grade, because they had lived here and there; and then there was me, from the countryside, with dancing and singing as my extra-curricular activities. I was very lucky that I could join a dance group, Bartók, where it was a privilege that I knew these [dances], and knew them well. The fact that others also appreciated this gave me roots. The Bag traditions, like the Muharay Elemér Folk Ensemble, had a really good letter of credence at the time, and I loved that I could build on it. It was later that I leaned more towards music than dance. I have always loved singing, and after a while on my path to spiritual transformation, I began to feel that I had an increasing need to express my own content, instead of rehearsing any kind of choreography for the 5th time in a row in a huge community [of dancers]. Then came the bands; I had one in Bag, then I had one here in Pest, called Zurgó, in ‚94. I was just a secondary school student then, and I was singing everything solo. My soul was guiding me more and more into this direction, but the possibility of a making a career out of it arose probably around university. D+SZ: Did you immediately know what kind of music you wanted to play? BP: A cappella has been a determining thing for me. There is a woman or man singing on a recorded track, and as it comes across to me, I feel whole. There is nothing ambiguous about music. There is only the song, which comes right through to me. 41