Hungary has produced a multitude of famous musicians. Franz Liszt, Béla Bartók, Zoltán Kodály and Franz Léhar are among the great immortals of music. Soprano Etelka Gerster thrilled music lovers on both sides of the Atlantic Ocean in the latter half of the 19th century as did the incomparable Edouard Reményi, dubbed the King of Violinists by no less than Victor Hugo. Among the more recent celebrated musicians George Szell and Eugene Ormandy have been honored on American postage stamps. Miklós Rózsa scored a number of Hollywood epics; Ben-Hur, Double Indemnity, King of Kings, and The Lost Weekend to name but a few. Margaret Campbell's authoritative book The Great Violinists includes several Hungarians, among them Joseph Joachim, Leopold Auer, Jenő Hubay, and Josef Szigeti.

A variety of reasons prompted Hungarians musicians to venture abroad temporarily or permanently. Better financial and artistic opportunities, wars, revolutions, and oppressive regimes were among the principal factors. Even today with all the marvelous communication technologies available, musicians travel far and wide to give live performances to appreciative audiences. With music there are no linguistic barriers; it is truly an international language.

Most Hungarian musicians seeking opportunities abroad tended to congregate in western Europe and the United States. However, other parts of the world, including Canada, attracted talented Hungarian performers. As a matter of fact, one of the early prominent Hungarians to settle in Toronto was the celebrated violinist Géza de Kresz, who arrived in the aftermath of World War I. Today he is best remembered as the first violin in the famed Hart House String Quartet. Géza has been followed by many other notable figures, among them Tibor Polgar.

Tibor was born in Budapest on March 11, 1907, the son of a journalist. As a youth he received an excellent musical education; one of his teachers was Zoltán Kodály. Upon the establishment of the Hungarian Radio in 1925, he became associated with it for many years in increasingly important capacities. In addition to being involved in various types of music played on the radio, Tibor scored for theatrical productions, commercials and the cinema.

My father became a close friend of Tibor during the 1930s while working in the motion picture industry with his uncle, the distinguished writer Lajos Zilahy. Tibor scored several of the movies produced by Pegazus, Zilahy's company. The most famous of these was Halálos tavasz [Deadly Spring], adapted by Zilahy from his own best-selling novel of the same name. The film, starring Pál Jávor and Katalin Karády, was released in 1939. It enjoyed phenomenal success at home and abroad and is regarded as one of the true classics of the Hungarian cinema. The film solidified Jávor's reputation as Hungary's leading male star and it propelled Karády to a legendary status. Tibor's musical score and haunting melodies contributed significantly to the film's appeal and lasting popularity.

In July of 1947 Tibor married Ilona Nagykovácsi, a singer and actress. A popular entertainer, she sang on stage, in cabarets and on the radio. Compared to her success as a singer, her career as an actress was far more modest. She appeared in several films and had the starring role in Fény és Árnyék [Light and Shadow], released in 1943.

For his wide range of musical contributions Tibor was awarded the prestigious Erkel prize - named after Ferenc Erkel, the founder of Hungarian national opera - in 1952 and 1953. Even though Tibor was respected and honored for his musical contributions, life under the Communist regime of post-World War II was far from pleasant not only for artists but the general population as well. The Stalinist stooges, proclaiming themselves as the only true guardians of culture, banned Halálos tavasz along with Tibor's acclaimed music. Apologists for the perverted ideology condemned the book as well as the film as the embodiment of decadent bourgeoise lifestyle without an iota of reedeming social realism (a euphimism for Communist rubbish).

Leaving Hungary in 1961, Tibor and his wife resided in West Germany before coming to Canada in 1964. He became a naturalized Canadian citizen five years later.

Comparisons are inevitable between people pursuing the same or similar careers but in different locations or at different times. Perhaps the most familiar literary example of this genre is Plutarch's Parallel Lives. Comparing Géza's story with that of Tibor offers an illuminating perspective on the
conditions facing newcomers and the adjustments they had to make. While Géza and Tibor had several factors in common there were also some noticeably different circumstances affecting their lives and careers.

Both Tibor and Géza studied under renowned teachers; Géza was a pupil of Jenő Hubay and the great Belgian Eugen Ysaye. Both of them came to Canada after successful careers in Europe. Both were accompanied by their talented wives; Géza's spouse, Norah Drewett, was an accomplished pianist.

Géza was 41 years old when he came to Canada while Tibor was 57 when he arrived. In Géza's time there was a strong official and unofficial discrimination against newcomers. Diversity, multi-culturalism and sensitivity training weren't the sacred cows they are today. While prejudice and discrimination in various guises still abound, they are officially frowned upon and such actions are sometimes even labelled as hate crimes. In the 1920s Toronto and Canada were just beginning to develop a cultural identity; nowadays Toronto is acknowledged as one of the great original cultural hubs of the world. Gambling, lotteries and casinos were regarded as anathema in the long-gone days of post World War I; today they constitute a bulwark of the national economy.

Upon settling in Toronto, Tibor and Ilona quickly formed congenial relationship with a number of Hungarians in the city. Most notable among these were Stephen Vörösváry, proprietor and publisher of Kanadai Magyarság, the chief Hungarian-language newspaper in Canada, and members of the Remenyi family, associated with Toronto's leading emporium of musical instruments, the Remenyi House of Music Ltd. Joining the University of Toronto's Faculty of Music, Tibor remained on staff until 1975. Housed in the spacious Edward Johnson Building featuring two concert halls - Walter Hall and MacMillan Theatre - the department boasted one of the largest and most respected music programs in the country.

Tibor had no trouble in establishing a cordial rapport with fellow musicians. "Tibor Polgar, a Hungarian-Canadian, wrote wonderfully for band, and gave us several pieces," recalled Stephen Chenette, also a professor at the university's Faculty of Music and conductor of the Concert Band, the Wind Symphony, and the Brass Choir. "His Fanfare of Pride and Joy, for 12 trumpets and band (or orchestra) with its quote O Canada at the end is stirring. I conducted it many times at the University of Toronto . . . "

My acquaintance with Tibor and his wife began in the early 1970s when I was enrolled in graduate studies at the University of Toronto. Our relationship didn't stem from a mutual preoccupation with music because I appreciate music but have no talent for it. It came about because of my parents friendship with Tibor and Ilona.

I was often invited to his public recitals and soirees at his home. The evening gatherings invariably included a number of artists connected with Tibor in various capacities. One of the most frequent guests was George Jonas, a young Hungarian who came to Canada after the 1956 Revolution. Already a succesful journalist and author, George wrote the librettos for Tibor's Canadian operas. More than once we would troop down to the Coffee Mill, not only Toronto's most famous Hungarian establishment but also "the sacred ground for the city's literati." Owned and operated by Martha von Heczey, the Coffee Mill, despite its sparse fare, was the favorite hangout for a multitude of notable locals. An added attraction of the place was a tame cheetah led around on a leash by Martha's husband Laci, a former wrestler, who employed the big cat in his nightclub act. However, the cheetah wore out his welcome when it tangled with someone's pet dog.

Whenever my parents came for a visit to Toronto they invariably spent considerable time with Tibor and Ilona at their house, my apartment, the Coffee Mill, or some other establishment. One such visit byTibor and Ilona at my place stand out especially vividly. On this particular occasion they were accompanied by Penny, their toy poodle. They acquired the cute, lively little dog a short while before. Ilona adored Penny and the two of them were inseparable. After they left we discovered that Penny had a left a calling card under the living room sofa. Apparently the dog couldn't or wouldn't be housetrained.

When advancing years and sundry infirmities prompted Tibor and Ilona to give up their house at 1638 Bathurst Street and move into an apartment at nearby 21 Vaughan Road, they could not take Penny with them. In those days Canadians were saddled with all sorts of unreasonable and archaic rules and regulations, one of which excluded pets from rental units. Ilona was very despondent over this turn of events, and they decided, most reluctantly, to put the tiny critter to sleep.

In the early 1970s, Zilahy, living in the United States since 1947, decided to remake Halálos tavasz in Yugoslavia and Spain where he had accumulated royalties. The new version bore the title Primavera Mortal, a literal translation of the original title into Spanish. The film was directed by Miguel Iglesias, the doyen of Catalan film directors. Cast in the leading roles were Bruce Pecheur, a 30-year old well-known American model and aspiring actor, and Patty Shepard, a 27-year old American model and actress, a resident of Madrid since 1963.

Naturally Zilahy turned to Tibor to score the film. Tibor and Ilona were soon off to Spain. When they returned to Toronto they were loaded with stills from the set and plenty of amusing anecdotes. As far as the film itself was concerned, they were disappointed and pessimistic. Their gloom encompassed a wide array of reasons. The chief weakness, in their opinion, lay with the film's two stars who lacked the charisma and chemistry of Jávor and Karády.

Ilona often mused about the film and never failed to recount the tragic demise of Bruce Pacheur. A graduate of Harvard University, Bruce worked as an actor as well as a model. He and his wife Lucy made their home in New York City's Greenwich Village. Because crime, especially by desperate drug addicts, was rampant in the city during the 1970s, they had several locks on their door, well-secured windows and Bruce owned a handgun. Despite all the precautions, they were confronted by a knife-wielding drug addict with a long criminal history during the night of August 16, 1973. Taken by surprise, Bruce had no opportunity to grab his gun. The intruder tied them up and began ransacking the apartment. Somehow Bruce extricated himself and secured his gun but as he shot the burglar the criminal managed to plunge his knife into Bruce. Both of them died on the spot. A horrified Lucy witnessed the entire struggle.

Bruce's untimely demise was reported in newspapers from coast to coast; among them the New York Times, The Washington Post, Boston Globe, Chicago Tribune and the Los Angeles Times. In addition to the gruesome details of the fatal encounter, the articles gave a brief summary of his career. The Boston Globe, August 17, 1973, was one of the few papers that mentioned his role in Primavera Mortal. Most of the articles cited Trash, a 1970 Andy Warhol production, in which Bruce was credited with a small part. Ironically, this film dealt with a Greenwich Village heroin addict and was described by one reviewer as "a vivid time capsule of the era." Incidentally, Bruce's tragic death served as the inspiration for The Intruder, a 1979 canvas by Sidney Tillim, an eminent art critic and an accomplished, albeit less influential, painter.

Patty Shepard enjoyed a long career, starring in more than fifty Spanish and Italian movies. She retired in 1988 and when she died in 2013 she was identified as an "American star of the Spanish silver screen."

There is one more footnote to Primavera Mortal. Zilahy died on December 1, 1974 and then major political events shook Spain and Yugoslavia with the passing of Franco and Tito. Tibor and Ilona steadfastly maintained that the finished film became lost in all the turmoil. If the film had been lost, it has certainly been rediscovered. It can be readily seen on the Internet.

Whenever Tibor's diverse Canadian musical career and achievements are discussed the list is usually headed by two operas he composed, The European Lover and The Glove.

The European Lover originated with Jan Rubes, a renowned singer, actor and director. Himself an immigrant from Europe, he commissioned George Jonas to write a contemporary light opera. George, conferring with Tibor, crafted an urbane and sophisticated tale in which an unnamed European lover attempts to seduce a beautiful North American woman. "Polgar was a traditional composer, and he came up with attractive if ordinary music," wrote Ezra Schabas, Rubes' biographer.

Rubes was not entirely satisfied with the end product and instructed Tibor and George to revise it in order to make it more entertaining. They did as they were told.

Rubes did not regard The European Lover an opera in the traditional sense but an operatical, i.e. a cross between an opera and a musical. As for the theme, he summarized it as "satiric adult entertainment which expresses a philosophy about the domineering North American female who emasculates her man." In an interview with the Daily Toronto Star, which appeared in the paper's March 5, 1966 edition, Rubes described the music as "light" and "very much Polgar." He added: "Tibor's marvellous. A fine pianist and an interesting composer. He finished this operatical in five weeks."

A workshop performance of the piece was held at York University on the evening of March 4, 1966.
The beautiful and sophisticated North American woman was portrayed by the beautiful and sophisticated Ilona Kombrink. The St. Louis born soprano, a veteran of numerous operas and concerts, is also remembered nowadays as a celebrated professor of voice for many years at the University of Wisconsin - Madison. The leading male role was sung by Rubes himself.

John Kraglund, the Globe and Mail's music critic, wasn't the least impressed, writing: "It might have made a very funny if not musically original ten-minute skit." Another critic, Kenneth Winters, expressed similar sentiments: "Its hand-to-mouth progress up and down the chromatic scale [...] made it sound like New York dinner music at a classy restaurant in Old Budapest." Staff writer Douglas Hughes of the Toronto Daily Star severely castigated the entire proceedings of the evening, including The European Lover. "Mr. Polgar's music turned out to be pretty dull [...] evaluation of George Jonas' English libretto was impossible."

Following more cuts and additions, Rubes took the opera on a two month tour of some twenty small communities in Western Canada. The response of the Canuck rustics was mixed and ambivalent.

1966 was a most memorable year for another reason. On July 5th, Zoltán Kodály came to Toronto as guest of the Royal Conservatory of Music Summer School. The 83-year old legend was accompanied by his wife Sarolta. "She is 27 and exceptionally beautiful, " quipped the Globe and Mail. Kodaly gave a series of lectures at McMillan Theatre. Upon conferring an honorary degree of Doctor of Music upon him, Claude Bissell, president of the university, called him "one of the great artists of this century." The CBC (Canadian Broadcasting Corporation) paid a tribute to Kodály with a special program devoted to his music, featuring cellist János Starker and violonist Loránd Fenyves. Naturally Tibor had a warm reunion with his one-time teacher. Kodály visited Tibor and Ilona at their home and they had a long, animated chat about music and many other topics.

The creation of The Glove was less turbulent and far more successful. With the libretto again provided by George, Tibor composed a lively and entertaining music. A newspaper ad announcing the presentation of the opera on TV summarized the plot as follows: "A one-act comic opera by Tibor Polgar, about the self-centered princess who demands that her knight prove his love by rescuing her glove from a lion's cage."

The Globe and Mail deemed it to be a satisfying musical and theatrical creation, declaring that "there
is a good chance it will gain a wide reputation as one of the most entertaining bits of nonsense to appear in the field of opera in many seasons." The first performance of the work in the Toronto area took place at Downsview Secondary School in 1975. The some 500 students found it very much to their liking as demonstrated by their continuous and enthusiastic applause. The Glove made its TV debut at 9:30 PM on October 31, 1975, when it was aired by the CBC with well-known opera star Riki Turofsky as the self-centered princess. Besides her, the original cast featured actors Andrea Martin and Martin Short, now icons of Canadian comedy.

The Glove was revived in the fall of 1975 for another tour, visiting various boroughs in Metropolitan Toronto as well as such communities in the province as Guelph, Bracebridge, Huntsville, and Sudbury.
"The Glove, . . . " commented Canadian Composer in its May 1976 issue, "is one of the most popular, most frequently performed and most appreciated Canadian opera ever written." By 1980 it had received over one hundred performances. Tibor described the music of the piece as "modern but not atonal, with the traditional forms of arias, duets, and ensembles being maintained."

As a gifted and versatile musician, Tibor was at ease with all musical instruments. However, he was always ready to admit a special fondness for the harp. "Since my youth the harp has always been my favorite instrument," said Tibor on one occasion. One of his prize pupils of the harp in Canada was Susana Remeny. Tibor wrote a number of compositions especially for her, including Variations on a Hungarian Folk Song, Harp Solo with String Orchestra and Kettle Drum. When Susana attended and performed at the meeting of the American Harp Society in Bloomington, IN, in July 1971, Tibor flew there from Toronto to conduct her.

Susana was by no means the only harpist for whom Tibor composed music. His Concerto Romantico, a work for harp and orchestra, was commissioned by Erica Goodman, one of Canada's most skilful and versatile musicians and daughter of noted violinist Hyman Goodman. It received its premiere at a concert in May 1986 at Laurentian University in Sudbury. Commenting on the work, Tibor said: "I wanted to make this piece not only for an outstanding Canadian artist, but for her audience as well. Throughout the piece I shamelessly and unpretentiously use what in much of today's music is a long forgotten, or much neglected element - melody."

Tibor participated in a wide variety of musical venues. At the annual benefit concert sponsored by the Andor Gerő Association of Canada held in October of 1972 at the University of Toronto's Edward Johnson Building, he appeared with violinist Leonard Fengues and cellist Vladimir Orloff. "Polgar provided both artists with solid accompaniment in their solo performances," wrote the Globe and Mail on the 23rd of the month.

Tibor was among the performers participating in the show by the Hungarian Art Theatre of Toronto during the city's Multi-Cultural Theatre Festival in November 1978. The venue revolved around Franz Lehár's beloved and enduring operette The Land of Smiles. The Globe and Mail's reporter covering the event lamented that European immigrants constituted the bulk of the audience; native Canadians accounted for only a handful of the spectators.

Tibor's transcriptions of Handel's Largo along with the works of several other composers were played by the Remeny Trio - Susanna Remeny, harp; Karin Schindler, flute; and János Tessenyi, bass-baritone - in November 1979 during the Noon-Hour Concert Series at Toronto's Royal Conservatory.

When Mr. And Mrs. Stephen Vörösváry marked their 40th wedding anniversary, Tibor was among the glittering array of guests. He delighted the assemblage with his Happy Arrangements, a piece which whimsically combined the Mendelsohn and Wagner Wedding Marches.

To celebrate Zoltan Kodaly's 100th birthday, a lavish musical tribute was held at Toronto's Town Hall in November 1982. The program opened with Tibor's rendition of a stirring piano composition in homage to the great man. "Kodaly's name is a household word wherever there are young people who have been educated in schools with a progressive attitude to choral music," wrote John Kraglund in the November 15, 1982 edition of the Globe and Mail.

Four years later Hungary and the rest of the world celebrated the centenary of Liszt's death. It was marked by countless tributes and live performances, biographical treatises, scholarly discourses, special documentaries, and new musical recordings. "If he were alive today, Liszt would be a media personality - a combination of Leonard Bernstein, Vladimir Horowitz and Arnold Schwarzenegger: composer, musical philosopher, virtuoso performer and matinee idol, " declared the Washington Post, June 22, 1986.

American premieres of Canadian compositions were featured by the University of Toronto's Wind Symphony, conducted by Stephen Chenette, at the National Conference of the College Band Directors National Association in Illinois during February 1987. Tibor was one of the Canadian composers whose work was introduced to the American audience.

Tibor's music was understood, appreciated and admired by the vast majority of serious and knowledgeable music afficianados. However, there were some who branded his music as out-dated and lagging behind the times. "I would rather bear the accusation of being old-fashioned than of being insincere," Tibor declared in an interview. "If you don't express your real feelings, you are lying, [...] My music mirrors my feelings." As for electronics, he said: "I would never use electronics. Electronics have nothing to do with what is in my heart."

World War II and the 1956 Revolution brought a large number of talented Hungarians to Toronto. Among them was Stephen Vizinczey, later an internationally acclaimed author on a broad range of subjects and a resident of Great Britain. His novel In Praise of Older Women was self-published in 1965. According to some accounts, much of the writing occurred in the Coffee Mill. The book quickly became a best-seller; according to recent statements it has been translated into 22 languages and worlwide sales have exceeded two million copies. Described by some as an inverted Lolita, its theme revolves around the amorous and erotic adventures of a young Hungarian with a succession of older members of the opposite sex during the years following World War II.

Like Lolita and Portnoy's Complaint, In Praise of Older Women received mixed reviews. There were critics who implied that the book was based on the author's experiences as a youthful libertine. Vizinczey took great pains to refute that the novel was in any way autobiographical. "I have spent my life hovering over sentences - not women," he stated emphatically during a libel suit in British high court.

Critical opinion has been overwhelmingly favorable from the beginning and nowadays the book is regarded as a true erotic classic. "This is an enchanting book," wrote A. Farrell Borenstein in the May 1966 edition of the North American Review. "Not for the sillies." The New Statesman, August 12, 1966, echoed his verdict: "Vizinczey has a nice cool, complacent touch [...]" while Library Journal deemed it "delightfully charming, richly ironic [...] a fresh breeze." "A pleasure [...] Vizinczey writes of women beautifully, with sympathy, fact and delight, and he writes about sex with more lucidity and grace than most writers ever acquire," commented Larry McMurtry in the Houston Post.

When the novel was reprinted in 1986 the St. Petersburg Times of Florida commented that it was a "gracefully written story of a young man growing up among older women." In compiling the 100 most important Canadian books ever written, Literary Review of Canada accorded the 40th spot to In Praise of Older Women, noting that "Canadian writing about sex was never the same again."

Robert Lantos, a Hungarian emigre and film producer living in Montreal, saw the cinematic potential of In Praise of Older Women. Shooting of the film, faithfully adhering to the novel, commenced under the direction of George Kaczender with Miklós Lente doing the cinematography.Tibor composed the accompanying music and also made a cameo appearance as - what else? - a piano player. Cast in the leading roles were American thespians Tom Berenger and Karen Black. Incidentally, Tibor's wife llona also participated in the making of the movie. A scene depicting a Budapest nightclub in 1951 aired a song composed by Tibor and popularized by Ilona. Remarkably, she still had the original gown
she wore when she made the song famous and was thus able to provide it for the film.

In Praise of Older Women had its world premiere at Toronto's Elgin Theatre on September 14, 1978. The opening night was preceeded by heated battles with Ontario's censor who wanted to make extensive cuts to conform to the province's purported high moral standards. Fortunately the film survived this ordeal and went on to be nominated for ten Canadian film awards.

Film Bulletin, January 1, 1979, found the movie wanting in many respects. According to the reviewer, the Tom Berenger character was nothing more than "an old-fashioned philanderer" and the film itself was simply "a curiously unappealing brand of masculine licentiousness." Also ridiculed was the "author's overheated and over-intellectualized, romanticism about the Nature of Womankind." Since the film kept the names as they appeared in the book, the reviewer fired this parting zinger:
"This unremarkable soft-core thriller is rendered fairly ludicrous by the improbable names of its leading characters." The audience rating of the film given in Screen International, March 3, 1979, read as follows: "Admirers of the novel, and uninhibited heterosexuals (women as well as men) attracted by the erotic content."

Charles Champlin, the respected and influential critic of the Los Angeles Times, had a totally different opinion in the paper's February 21, 1979 edition. Conceding that the movie's "romantic encounters, stopping just short of continuous," he admired and liked it for being a "sexy celebration of love, not a loveless exploitation of sex." Regarding the music, he wrote: "The score by Tibor Polgar is merry and very Hungarian, [...] Polgar's work is light and unquestionably appropriate."

Like most films, In Praise of Older Women was eventually released in DVD. When Vizinczey, now long a resident of Great Britain, got hold of a copy, he received a big jolt. The trailer, narrated by Lantos himself, recounted the resounding success of the movie around the globe over the years. According to subsequent testimony by Vizinczey, Lantos had always told him that the film did poorly at the box office. Using Lantos' own figures, Vizinczey calculated that he was rightfully owed around $258,000 and initiated a lawsuit. The case was reported in several Canadian newspapers in the early months of 2007. Media coverage of the case was rather surprising because dubious incidents and allegations involving many millions of dollars in the private and public sectors are usually accorded nothing more than a passing notice.

Both Tibor and Ilona were rather theatrical in dress, speech and mannerism. These traits came natural to them and did not detract the least from their personality and appeal; as a matter of fact, these characteristics simply buttressed the general public's conviction that artsy people are different from ordinary folks. Their theatrical demeanor was in some respects an occupational hazard. Beneath their public persona Tibor and Ilona were admirable people in every way. I have only pleasant memories of them.

Unlike Tibor, Ilona did not carve out a musical career in Canada. This is understandable for her singing days were long over although she made a few appearances at Hungarian events. She was fond of playing her old recordings privately for friends. When playing them at home, she usually became emotional and left the room to cry. Ilona was frequently at Tibor's side at formal events and also helped him with the music lessons he gave to young children. For a while she dabbled in the design of hats for ladies. Her first showing was at Toronto's exclusive Granite Club in February 1968. Among her first customers was Mrs. Claude Bissell, wife of the aforementioned president of the University of Toronto.

In 1982 Ilona, with Tibor's able assistance, completed her copiously illustrated memoirs which were published by Weller Publishing Co., the enterprise owned by Stephen Vörösváry. The title of the book was the same as the name of her signature movie, Fény és Árnyék [Light and Shadow]. She gave an autographed copy to my father at Christmas of that year; the book is now in my possession. The book tends to ramble a great deal and its coverage of people and events is rather uneven. However, it contains a plethora of relevant information and interesting odd-and-ends found nowhere else. Among the many photos included are pictures of Tibor and Ilona with Zilahy in New York City, and the two of them with Kodály and Karády in their Toronto home.

Screening of old Hungarian movies was and still is a popular activity. Among these classics often shown was Ilona's Fény és Árnyék. Flyers announcing the film usually carried a notice that its star was now a resident of Toronto. The film was often screened at the Hungarian Cultural enter and at various Hungarian venues. When it was shown at Forest Hill Collegiate Tibor and Ilona sent me a personalized invitation (which I still have). I was unable to attend but I did go when the movie was shown at the Hungarian Cultural Centre in May of 1987. The modestly-numbered audience was overwhelmingly on the elderly side. Seconds before the projector was turned on, Tibor and Ilona swept into the hall, acknowledged the assemblage with a curt nod, and tooks the seats of honor.

Tibor was a heavy cigarette smoker but he never indulged in recreational drugs for relaxation or inspiration. The time-honored role of pharmaceutical concoctions in musical circles and events, including Canadian ones, needs no elaboration. Drug use in the 1960s and 1970s was attributed mainly to the alienation felt by the nation's youth. Nowadays there is an insatiable craving for drugs by all segments of society and is attributable to a myriad of factors, including ample disposable income, long leisure hours, and the quest for new thrills. Enlightened policies in words and deeds by politicians and other pillars of the community are also important driving forces. Recent studies have indicated that legal pot could give a much needed boost to the Canadian economy, as much as five billion dollars a year and provide countless jobs. Meanwhile, the relentless crusade against the evils and ravages of tobacco continues unabated as does the massive educational campaign to channel youngsters into safe, healthy and socially acceptable recreational habits and practices.

Tibor had a multitude of interests outside music. For example, he was a frequent contributor to Kanadai Magyarság with articles on sundry topics. Tibor was known for his numerous witty remarks. Erstwhile friend and close musical collaborator George Jonas recalled a good many of them in his newspaper columns. According to Tibor, there were two kinds of composers: The ones who had an idea and jotted it down, and the ones who had no idea and jotted it down.

On November 18, 1992, the 85-year old Tibor was honored for his outstanding compositional achievements by the American Harp Society's Toronto chapter. Presenting the award was his one time prize pupil, Susana Remeny-Prentice. Incidentally, Susana's CD entitled Susana Remeny, Virtuoso Harp Solos is dedicated to "the memory of my friend and mentor Prof. Tibor Polgar," and is accompanied by a leaflet summarizing Tibor's long career.

Sometime around this time - I'm not sure of the exact date - Tibor phoned me and I asked if I would pick up a copy of Zilahy's The Dukays on my forthcoming trip to New York City. Naturally I said yes and indeed obtained the book. When I returned, I called him and offered to take it over. During our brief conversation, Tibor sounded subdued and disinterested; all his vitality seemed to have been drained. He said there was no rush to bring the book over and he'd call me. Attributing his demeanor to the artistic temperament as well as to his advanced years, I didn't press the issue. Not long afterwards I was shocked to hear that he died on Agust 27, 1993. I sent Ilona a sympathy card and also phoned her to offer my condolences and help. She was very depressed and complained about her own health problems. She died in June of 1995 under rather tragic circumstances.

Tibor's career in the world of music is succinctly described in a number of Hungarian and English-language reference volumes, including Zenei lexikon [Musical Lexicon], Magyar Hangosfilm Lexikon 1931-1944 [Lexicon of Hungarian Sound Film 1931-1944], Encyclopedia of Music in Canada, and Opera Composers and Their Works. However, all of these provide scant information on his personal life.

Tibor was gone but bot forgotten. A Tibor Polgar Memorial Concert was held in Toronto on October 7, 1994. The July 2002 edition of Fanfare - The Magazine for Serious Record Collectors reviewed recordings of orchestral music, including performances of the Hungarian State Orchestra under the baton of Tibor Polgar. Later that year, in November, the Regina Symphony Orchestra, under music director and conductor Victor Sawa, presented "Hungarian Passion," dubbed as a "once-in-a-lifetime" concert, at the city's Centre of the Arts. The highlights of the program were Bartók's Second Piano Concerto and Liszt's Mazeppa. Also played were four of Tibor's lyrical pieces from his much-acclaimed suite The Puszta.

In a touching gesture the works of Tibor Polgar and George Jonas were celebrated at Toronto's historic Heliconian Hall a few years ago. The place was packed to its full capacity. Famed lawyer Eddie Greenspan served as master of ceremonies. Several prominent artists interpreted and performed the works of Tibor and George. Michael Remeny, brother of the aforementioned Susana and an accomplished amateur musician, played the cello.

At the end of the program, a number of individuals, among them myself, lined up to convey our congratulations and best wishes to George. Sadly, George's health was visibly undermined by various ailments, most conspicuously Parkinson's disease. The dreaded affliction claimed his life on January 10, 2016. All the major Canadian newspapers carried obituaries; the one in the New York Times appeared in the January 20th edition. George was recalled as a brilliant and successful journalist, broadcaster, essayist, librettist, and poet. His writing was desribed as "clever, unafraid and compelling." "A fine, witty man I was glad to count him as a friend," was typical of the many personal tributes.

Tibor, Ilona and George are gone but their literary and musical legacy lives on, at least, for the culturally discerning. There is indeed much truth in that ancient proverb Vita brevis, ars longa (Life is short, art long).