Dear guests, honourable Mr. Mayor, dear Iván,

Today, we welcome a genuine citizen of the world. An artist who, by his own account, has never spent more than three months in the same city at any point in his career, that is, in his adult life.

Iván Fischer is at home not only in the 12th district of Budapest. He is at home in Berlin, in Lucca, in Carnegie Hall in New York City, in the Musikverein in Vienna. He is at home on the stage of Amsterdam’s Concertgebouw and in the 440-year-old Teatro Olimpico in Vicenza.

For Iván, the concert stage is a familiar space where he can truly be himself. And where he is never alone, for we are there with him, the musicians he invited to join him as creative partners on the journey which has been given the name the Budapest Festival Orchestra. And now I speak to you, as a member of the orchestra’s first violin section, with, exceptionally, papers in my hands instead of an instrument and sheet music.

Please do not expect a traditional laudation from me, as that task would lie well beyond the daily work of a violinist. But as members of the Festival Orchestra, we have gotten used to being confronted with ever new and seemingly impossible challenges set for us by Iván’s restless, creative spirit. Whether it’s singing a choral work on the world-famous stage of La Scala in Milan or having the gentleladies of the orchestra march while playing Monteverdi before audiences in the Palace of Arts in Budapest. Compared to that, I suppose holding a speech is not a terribly demanding task:)

I most certainly do not speak today solely on my own behalf. I have every faith that my colleagues, the musicians of the Festival Orchestra, feel that my words are theirs as well. That my thoughts are our shared thoughts. Of course, this occasion is not about the BFO, but about Iván; yet Iván is inseparable from us, and we from him.

I am often asked what the secret of the Festival Orchestra is. My first answer is always: Iván Fischer. But today another question arises: what is Iván Fischer’s secret? What does it take for someone to create a Hungarian orchestra and lift it into the ranks of the ten best ensembles in the world? To travel the globe and attract around him an audience of devoted fans who come on tour with us again and again, because they have been swept away by the wonder of live music? What does it take to build, here in Hungary, a team of musicians on whom he can rely as his committed partners? Wherefrom the creative vision that ensures that every concert we hold is unique?

I’m not sure that I could offer the exact answer. What I do know is that Iván is a genius who sees the world in an utterly unique way. He thinks on a different level than so many of us, and his sparkling brilliance keeps both his own spirit and those around him in a state of constant renewal.

Working with him is incredibly exciting. Whatever he dreams up, he never carves it in stone. He adapts it, rather, to the moment. A string of innovations is linked to his name, innovations which, we know, have set trends and shown new paths for classical performers the world over.

At midnight, he has the audience take a seat on beanbags among the musicians; he occasionally reshapes the long-standing Cocoa Concerts to suit children with autism; he organizes day-long marathons devoted to the oeuvre of a single composer. He persuades the orchestra to appear as a choir; he spontaneously answers questions from the audience at the end of the concert. He can fill the nearby Congress Centre even with a surprise program, or he entrusts the evening’s program entirely to the audience. Such things demand courage. And Iván’s innovative ideas are always a success. As if he were able to see the path ahead, showing him where to go.

And he does not think exclusively of concert-hall audiences. Through the Community Weeks series, music is brought to those in difficult circumstances. We visit disadvantaged children, hospitals, nursing homes, and we bring life into the abandoned walls of old synagogues. We travel to the farthest corners of the country, and, if needed, even farther. For the musicians of the Festival Orchestra, this is a true form of service, and we do it with all our hearts, from Shanghai to Vicenza.

It is hardly the applause or the cheers that matter to Iván. Ever since I first met him, I have always seen in him a burning sense of mission, and he calls on us, his musicians, to join him in this mission: to speak to people through music, to touch their souls. To grant the listener the freedom to interpret what they hear for themselves. Because in truth, we can never know what each person experiences or understands while listening to our music.

Music is a medium, the musician is a medium, and the conductor is a medium as well. Together, we create the miracle on stage (today, we number precisely 113), in a flow of energy moving back and forth, perfectly attuned to one another. In concerts you can often feel, from the very first note, that something extraordinary is about to happen. Brahms: Symphony No. 1 at London’s Royal Albert Hall. Do you remember, dear colleagues? How the energy was concentrated in Iván’s every gesture, how the orchestra breathed with him… To this day, I get goosebumps recalling that concert. And we have had many such moments.

Flow and catharsis. We enter an almost otherworldly state of the soul, and yes, for that to happen, it must first arise in the one who leads us. This is what Iván means to us.

He is in the music with every fibre of his being, and such a compelling force radiates from him that it becomes impossible to play in any way other than the way he shows. His face follows every musical event, his very gaze is transformed. I don’t think he even knows this. I think it is purely instinctive for him. We experienced this again in the recent performances of Don Giovanni.

Tremulous drama, colours, impulses, characters conjured with a single gesture… Iván is a master of Mozart’s music.

And today we were rehearsing Richard Strauss’s monumental work, The Legend of Joseph. A long and complex piece, which we had to put together in an improbably short time. The concert is tomorrow, and I know everything will go well, because Iván is not only a master of shaping musical processes, he is also a consummate professional in time management.

Bartók… When I was studying at the conservatory, our music history teacher introduced the first piano concerto by saying, “this is the most perfect existing recording of this work in the world: Zoltán Kocsis, Iván Fischer, and the Budapest Festival Orchestra.” That has been the benchmark for me ever since. Yes, Iván, you become the standard. That’s just the way it is. You might as well accept it.

Mahler would deserve a volume of his own. I wouldn’t even be able to decide which example to mention, because the entire Mahler oeuvre lives in Iván’s fingertips: he feels it in his very bones.

He dares to surrender himself to the world that blends the elegance of bygone eras with fatal, extreme, heightened, and unpredictable emotions, with faith in nature and the transcendent. And with music that also draws inspiration from the realities of the world surrounding it.

This is just how Mahler composed, and this is how Iván Fischer composes. For Iván is active as a composer as well. We have performed his opera, his cantata, we know his vocal works, and we dearly love his musical language and artistic vision. Today, we will hear music from his pen, and if I understand correctly, Iván, you will say a few words about the composition.

I see that for Iván, the score alone is no longer enough:) And beyond all this, he is present as a stage director, shaping our opera productions. Even during concerts he will direct, if needed.

A few days ago, in the Teatro Olimpico, he was constantly signalling to the substitute soprano when to move a little to the right on the narrow Renaissance stage, or when to come in a bit faster. Calmly, clearly, encouragingly he gave the cues, while with his other hand he was conducting us, the orchestra, who watched this problem-solving “multitasking” with amazement.

Through his directing work, Iván has created a creative path along which the Festival Orchestra has, over the years, transformed into a kind of interdisciplinary artistic project. In Verdi’s Falstaff, we sang lying down, dressed in costume, with small glowing top hats on our heads, just to mention one example.

I don’t know if there is another symphonic orchestra in the world that could be persuaded to do such things:) And I have no idea what plans Iván has in mind, but we stand ready for them.

Because through his creativity, our creativity is also given space; and I am absolutely convinced that this, in turn, inspires Iván. He gives us trust and room for self-expression, for artistic growth, whether it be folk music, jazz, or playing on period instruments. I am personally grateful to him for the latter, because it allowed me to immerse myself in that rich musical world.

Under Iván’s guidance, the Festival Orchestra exists as a living creative workshop. This is how he leads us toward tomorrow. And the future is here with us: the representatives of the new generation of musicians, the young artists of the European Orchestra Academy, will soon be performing for us. With joy, and with freedom.

For as members of this orchestra, we are able to experience our profession as a true source of joy. Its foundation is a conductor’s, its leader’s attitude, which is grounded in respect, openness, and curiosity toward those who bring the music to life.

Iván often says that he sees the Festival Orchestra as one big family, his musical family. On tour we are together 24/7. Iván travels with us, and indeed we even live in the same hotel.

It is important to him to know about each of his musicians: how we are doing, what we think, how we feel. After concerts, or sometimes even at the airport, you can go up to him with the joys or question marks of your private life.

You know us, Iván, and perhaps we know you, too:)

I also consider it a rather exceptional gift that Iván opens his home to us, the musicians. Thanks to the gatherings following opera premieres or the birthday house concerts, we can find our way around Varázs Street without needing our cell phones:)

We, too, feel at home in the 12th District:)

And where does Iván get the energy for all this? This remains a mystery to me. I have not yet been able to decipher the secret of his stamina (beyond the coffee).

One of his sayings has become a proverb within the orchestra: “Talent is a question of capacity.” Well, by that standard, Iván Fischer is extraordinarily talented, because his capacity seems truly endless:)

He is fully present in each passing moment, and he expects the same from us: to be present in the music with conviction, to believe in the power of our art, and to radiate that toward the audience, concert after concert.

Four days ago, we were still on tour; on Monday, we will be lining up at the airport again. Under Iván’s leadership, we will once more set out on the road, in the service of music. Counting the days until we return home, for some time.

And so my closing thoughts are addressed both to myself and to my fellow musicians. I have brought the simple little refrain of a contemporary song, a kind of modern folk song, that lodged itself in my mind during our last tour.

If one should venture far,

let him not forget his home,

For he may mourn his solitude,

wheresoever he may roam,

If one should venture far,

let him not forget his home,

or the warmth of hearth and heart,

that wait when he returns.

Dear Iván, I hope you understand and feel the meaning of these lines.

This is how I greet you today, here, not far from your home.

With heartfelt congratulations!

This laudation was delivered on 6 November 2025, at the MOM Cultural Centre.