The project supported by
What does music mean today – and what does Kodály mean today?
How do solmization, choral singing, and Zoltán Kodály’s pedagogical concept connect to young people today?
These are the questions we set out to explore in the Kodály Z Gen project.
The aim of the project
Launched with the support of the Hungarikum grant and organized by our foundation, the Kodály Z Gen project aims to demonstrate that:
- Kodály’s pedagogical concept remains a living and functional body of knowledge today.
- Its impact extends beyond music education, contributing significantly to attention development, self-confidence, logical thinking, memory, and community experience.
- Solfa, folk songs, and choral singing are not museum relics, but tools that continue to work for today’s young generation – and more than that, tools they can genuinely connect with, using them for self-expression, learning, and understanding.
If you could give advice to your 4th-grade self, what would you say about why solmization is worth learning?
“Because it makes it much easier to learn how to sing in tune and remember melodies faster.”
“It makes singing and understanding music incredibly easier – not just in choir, but even when it comes to popular songs.”
“It’s really useful, and you improve more than you’d expect!”
“Later on, it becomes much easier to learn pieces accurately and progress quickly, while building a solid foundation for yourself.”
“Solfa is an amazing thing – it helps you learn melodies and songs faster, more easily, and more accurately. It also improves your concentration.”
“You’ll be able to learn more difficult pieces more easily, smoothly, and quickly – and not everyone can say they can read music and use solfa!”
“Because later on everything will be a thousand times easier in almost any area, you’ll think more logically, and if you choose a musical career, it can give you a huge advantage.”
“You’ll understand and learn choral pieces much more easily, and you’ll develop a great ear – you’ll immediately hear when you or others make a mistake!”
“It develops the way I think and my logic. I can use this knowledge in other areas too.”
“It’s important to learn the basics early so we can use them effectively later.”
“If I could give advice to my 4th-grade self, I’d say it’s worth learning solmization because it helps develop your musical ear and memory, and it makes it easier to recognize music and sing melodies accurately. It also helps you understand music better and improves your ability to play instruments or sing. If you start now, it will be much easier to learn music in the future!”
“You can learn melodies more easily – and actually enjoy it at the same time.”
“Fast learning, and honestly… it’s just fun :)”
What has solfa given you? Tell us in a few sentences!
How did it start? I have no idea
I usually say that I could sing solfa before I could read or write. People laugh when I say that, but honestly, that’s how it feels.
Solfa has always been there with me, like riding a bike or knowing which one is my left hand. And recently, it turned out to be especially useful.
Not long ago, before an international festival, we received a new piece at the very last minute. Our conductor just said: “This will work – we just have to learn it quickly.”
One week. That’s all we had. You could see the panic in some people’s eyes. But I just sat down and went through my part with solfa. The same way I learned it as a child. I memorized the recurring motifs, the unusual intervals. And while others were still searching for the notes, I almost knew it by heart.
This doesn’t mean I’m better than them. It just means that what I absorbed as a child, I could now rely on.
What once felt like a game in primary school, what we put so much energy into in children’s choir – it pays off now.
The concert went well, everyone found their way in the end. But still, I had this feeling inside me: as if I had used a hidden superpower. And it feels good to know that this knowledge is always with me.
Solfa has always been there with me, like riding a bike or knowing which one is my left hand. And recently, it turned out to be especially useful.
Not long ago, before an international festival, we received a new piece at the very last minute. Our conductor just said: “This will work – we just have to learn it quickly.”
One week. That’s all we had. You could see the panic in some people’s eyes. But I just sat down and went through my part with solfa. The same way I learned it as a child. I memorized the recurring motifs, the unusual intervals. And while others were still searching for the notes, I almost knew it by heart.
This doesn’t mean I’m better than them. It just means that what I absorbed as a child, I could now rely on.
What once felt like a game in primary school, what we put so much energy into in children’s choir – it pays off now.
The concert went well, everyone found their way in the end. But still, I had this feeling inside me: as if I had used a hidden superpower. And it feels good to know that this knowledge is always with me.
When I realize: I can do this
At one rehearsal, we started working on a piece where my part was really difficult. Just looking at the score, I felt like I wouldn’t be able to do it. And on top of that, we had to sing it individually – since we were taking it to a competition, there was no way around it.
At home, I spent days humming and singing it with solfa. My family practically learned it by heart too. I recorded it at rehearsal, rewound it again and again, tried to sing along. But there was always one part that stopped me. Always the same place. At least the rest of it started to become stable. There were moments when I got angry. I wanted to give up, throw the score away.
But somehow I knew that if I kept trying, it would eventually come together. And then one day… it finally worked. And again. And then almost every time.
That’s when I understood something that has stayed with me ever since: music is not just about talent.
It’s about how many times you are willing to try again. Every attempt brings you one step closer. For some, it comes easier. Others need more time. But with patience and effort, it really is possible. And when it finally works, the feeling is something nothing else can replace.
That’s when you realize: you can do it.
Concert-ready with hand signs
On choir tours, I was always amazed by how hand signs worked. If the participants knew the solfa system, it didn’t matter where they came from – one gesture was enough for them to know what to sing, even in multiple parts. No sheet music needed.
We did this all the time: in rehearsals, camps, international workshops. It felt like a secret language that anyone could understand who had “grown up Kodály-style.” But I never thought I would need it at a wedding.
A relative asked me and a few friends to sing at her wedding. We prepared a program. Then at the last moment, she made a request: she wanted another piece – one we hadn’t prepared. I knew it. The others didn’t. And of course, we had no sheet music. We quickly stepped aside, and I started teaching them the parts using hand signs. We used solfa, hummed, added the text, rehearsed it a few times – and within minutes, we were singing it together. It was incredible how quickly it came together.
The audience had no idea about the improvisation. They just heard a beautiful performance.
And in that moment, it became clear to me: hand signs don’t just help you learn, they give you confidence. You can solve anything if you trust yourself.
We did this all the time: in rehearsals, camps, international workshops. It felt like a secret language that anyone could understand who had “grown up Kodály-style.” But I never thought I would need it at a wedding.
A relative asked me and a few friends to sing at her wedding. We prepared a program. Then at the last moment, she made a request: she wanted another piece – one we hadn’t prepared. I knew it. The others didn’t. And of course, we had no sheet music. We quickly stepped aside, and I started teaching them the parts using hand signs. We used solfa, hummed, added the text, rehearsed it a few times – and within minutes, we were singing it together. It was incredible how quickly it came together.
The audience had no idea about the improvisation. They just heard a beautiful performance.
And in that moment, it became clear to me: hand signs don’t just help you learn, they give you confidence. You can solve anything if you trust yourself.
Encoded in solfa
In our family, solfa wasn’t just about music. My sibling and I turned it into a secret language. We assigned meanings to the notes: words, feelings, requests, hidden messages. It became a kind of musical code.
To others, it just sounded like random humming. But in reality, we were having full conversations – just in melodies.
Some patterns became fixed expressions, others were improvisations only we understood.
For example, if someone sang a little “do–mi–so”, it already meant: “bring something to eat.” If there was a long “mi–fa–mi”, it usually meant trouble. We could even add nuance through tone and expression.
Later, we even “chatted” with the use of solfa. A few letters were enough, and we knew exactly what the other meant. Sometimes we felt like little composers. That’s how our own secret language – our own music – came to life.
Even today, we sometimes send each other little musical codes. Not many people would understand them, but for us, they’re completely clear.
We grew up encoded in solfa and it remains a shared language that always connects us.
To others, it just sounded like random humming. But in reality, we were having full conversations – just in melodies.
Some patterns became fixed expressions, others were improvisations only we understood.
For example, if someone sang a little “do–mi–so”, it already meant: “bring something to eat.” If there was a long “mi–fa–mi”, it usually meant trouble. We could even add nuance through tone and expression.
Later, we even “chatted” with the use of solfa. A few letters were enough, and we knew exactly what the other meant. Sometimes we felt like little composers. That’s how our own secret language – our own music – came to life.
Even today, we sometimes send each other little musical codes. Not many people would understand them, but for us, they’re completely clear.
We grew up encoded in solfa and it remains a shared language that always connects us.
It’s never too late to start
There are steps that seem impossible at first. Like joining a choir without knowing solfa, where everyone else grew up with it. Everything is new: the community, the learning method, the pace. And you’re just trying to keep up. That’s the real challenge.
There’s no crash course learning solfa – only a pencil, endless notes, practicing at home on the piano, and listening to recordings over and over again. While others already know their parts by the second rehearsal, you’re still figuring out what syllable goes with the starting note.
But every small step counts. You start recognizing where the melody begins. You pause the recording less often. And one day you realize: you’re no longer holding anyone back. You don’t have to keep asking the person next to you, “what was this note again?”
At concerts, luckily, you don’t have to use solfa – that’s where the shared success comes. But the real test is every single rehearsal. Because your section hears everything. And so does the conductor. And when someone in your part smiles at you after a piece, you know: it was worth it.
I’ll probably never catch up with those who’ve been learning this since childhood. But I’m getting closer. And more importantly: I no longer feel like an outsider, but like someone who truly contributes to the choir’s success.
There’s no crash course learning solfa – only a pencil, endless notes, practicing at home on the piano, and listening to recordings over and over again. While others already know their parts by the second rehearsal, you’re still figuring out what syllable goes with the starting note.
But every small step counts. You start recognizing where the melody begins. You pause the recording less often. And one day you realize: you’re no longer holding anyone back. You don’t have to keep asking the person next to you, “what was this note again?”
At concerts, luckily, you don’t have to use solfa – that’s where the shared success comes. But the real test is every single rehearsal. Because your section hears everything. And so does the conductor. And when someone in your part smiles at you after a piece, you know: it was worth it.
I’ll probably never catch up with those who’ve been learning this since childhood. But I’m getting closer. And more importantly: I no longer feel like an outsider, but like someone who truly contributes to the choir’s success.
Starting point
Generation Z learns differently.
Digitally, quickly, visually – while making music together is often missing from their everyday lives.
We ask, we do not assume.
What does solfa mean today? What about singing? Music education?
This is what we wanted to understand from them.
The Kodály concept still has an impact.
It does not only provide musical knowledge, but also supports attention, connection, and self-expression.
This is what Kodály Z Gen set out to explore.
Through honest stories, responses, and videos from a Generation Z perspective.
Beyond music classes and choir, in what areas do you feel your musical knowledge gives you an advantage that you can use in the future (e.g. in work, hobbies, or everyday life)?
“Classical music helps calm me down and focus while studying. I’ll definitely use that in the future.”
“I don’t really use solfa or my musical knowledge elsewhere, but I feel more balanced after singing, and I’m much happier on choir days.”
“Since music sometimes appears in literature, I can occasionally use what I’ve learned in music when answering literature-related questions.”
“When I listen to music, I notice things like minor–major shifts in certain songs. I might not use this in a job, but it still feels cool to recognize it.”
“I want to become a kindergarten teacher, and my mom introduced me to music from a young age. I’d love to pass this experience on to children as well.”
“I only started playing the saxophone a year ago, but when I hear a song, I try to sing it with solfa and then play it and it almost always works.”
“I’m much more creative, and music and singing have a kind of therapeutic effect on me.”
“I’ve developed a love for music, there’s not a single day when I don’t listen to something, and I can feel how it recharges me, especially on worse days.”
“It helps improve the quality of my musical taste.”
“It helps when I play the piano, and I feel more cultured in terms of music.”
“At parties it’s great because I can sing a lot of songs (thanks to the memory I developed through solfa), and that helps me make friends and build connections.”
“I think it adds something to a person’s character. Someone who can talk about topics like this seems more intelligent and open-minded.”
“Listening to music is like emotional healing. If you’re stressed, just listen to music!”
“I memorize things faster, and my associative thinking is stronger. I kind of use it as a party trick – since melodies automatically turn into solfa in my head, I can play a lot of things by ear on the piano.”
“This kind of knowledge can be useful in almost any field. I’ve experienced that more than once. It makes me feel more expressive and more complete as a person.”
“I can concentrate and pay attention much more easily, not just to music but to everything else as well.”
“I can talk about music more easily with others, and I can share interesting things with people who haven’t studied music. It also improves my concentration (which I really need) and teaches me discipline.”
“During folk dancing, I can align my movements with the musical phrases.”
“It also helps with learning instruments, and music lessons are much more enjoyable when you actually understand what you’re doing.”
“In any field of the arts, it helps you find your way more easily and makes further learning in music much smoother.”
“I pay more attention to details and learn new things more easily.”
How has solfa helped you? Tell us in a few sentences!
Singing has no borders
With our choir, we travel abroad several times a year, and we often meet singers from all over the world. Most of the time, we don’t speak the same language – but singing together still works. You can really see this in rehearsals and concerts, where everyone somehow knows what to do.
Last autumn, a choir from Hong Kong came to stay with us. My whole family was excited: what should we cook, how would we communicate, would they feel comfortable at our place? In the end, English worked just fine. We laughed a lot, and everything went smoothly. We had concerts together, rehearsed, and even went on a few trips. The girls from Hong Kong enjoyed it, and we were happy to help them find their way around.
In just one weekend, we got to know each other quite well, and we stayed in touch even after they went home.
A few months later, we found out that we would be going to Hong Kong. When we met again, it already felt familiar – and this time, they showed us their city. We had several concerts together, rehearsed a lot, talked, explored.
And since then, I know for sure: if you sing, there are no borders.
The distance between people isn’t measured in kilometers, but in openness. And music always opens the door.
The most meaningful moments don’t always happen at competitions or concerts, but when you simply smile at each other.
Last autumn, a choir from Hong Kong came to stay with us. My whole family was excited: what should we cook, how would we communicate, would they feel comfortable at our place? In the end, English worked just fine. We laughed a lot, and everything went smoothly. We had concerts together, rehearsed, and even went on a few trips. The girls from Hong Kong enjoyed it, and we were happy to help them find their way around.
In just one weekend, we got to know each other quite well, and we stayed in touch even after they went home.
A few months later, we found out that we would be going to Hong Kong. When we met again, it already felt familiar – and this time, they showed us their city. We had several concerts together, rehearsed a lot, talked, explored.
And since then, I know for sure: if you sing, there are no borders.
The distance between people isn’t measured in kilometers, but in openness. And music always opens the door.
The most meaningful moments don’t always happen at competitions or concerts, but when you simply smile at each other.
Learning poetry through singing
I’ve always been a good student. Most subjects came easily, and I didn’t need much repetition. But there was one thing I struggled with again and again: memorizing poems. No matter how hard I tried, the words just wouldn’t stick. I understood the meaning. I could analyze it, explain it.
But reciting it word for word? That was a nightmare.
Even an eight-line poem could take me minutes to get through. My teacher would sigh, and my classmates either felt sorry for me or laughed.
Then one day I started thinking: how is it that I can memorize hundreds of choral pieces, with text, even in foreign languages? Why do those work – but poems don’t?
And then I realized: because there is music in them. From that point on, everything changed. I started learning poems by singing them. The melody helped me recall the words. I didn’t suddenly become a poetry champion, but at least I didn’t freeze anymore.
When I had to recite, I just had to switch back from melody to speech. My Hungarian teacher noticed how I was solving the problem. For my final exams, she even allowed me to prepare using musical settings of poems.
It wasn’t just a “shortcut” – it was finding my own way.
But reciting it word for word? That was a nightmare.
Even an eight-line poem could take me minutes to get through. My teacher would sigh, and my classmates either felt sorry for me or laughed.
Then one day I started thinking: how is it that I can memorize hundreds of choral pieces, with text, even in foreign languages? Why do those work – but poems don’t?
And then I realized: because there is music in them. From that point on, everything changed. I started learning poems by singing them. The melody helped me recall the words. I didn’t suddenly become a poetry champion, but at least I didn’t freeze anymore.
When I had to recite, I just had to switch back from melody to speech. My Hungarian teacher noticed how I was solving the problem. For my final exams, she even allowed me to prepare using musical settings of poems.
It wasn’t just a “shortcut” – it was finding my own way.
Does music help with math?
In math class, we were learning about sequences. The teacher wrote an example on the board, but I wasn’t really paying attention – I probably had a song in my head. It was an arithmetic sequence, something increasing step by step… and suddenly I thought: wait, this is like intervals – you can think of it as solfa. And I just kept “singing” it in my head :)
That afternoon, I studied with my friend – she’s also in choir. We tried to memorize the formulas, but she was struggling.
So I told her: “Imagine it like a melody. If you start here and move by the same step each time, you get the next note… I mean, the next number.” She just stared at me at first. Then she laughed and asked: “Are you seriously learning math through solfa?”
But then she tried it. “Do” was the first element, and then she kept adding “a third” – and suddenly it made sense to her. Okay, maybe it was a bit more complicated than that, but still.
She said that before, she had just memorized things – now, for the first time, she actually understood them. And I realized something too: what we learned through solmization as kids – patterns, systems, steps – doesn’t just help in music. It shows up in completely unexpected places.
I didn’t become a math genius. But ever since I look at formulas like a score, things are easier.
Maybe music gave me the key: how to find connections where others only see numbers.
That afternoon, I studied with my friend – she’s also in choir. We tried to memorize the formulas, but she was struggling.
So I told her: “Imagine it like a melody. If you start here and move by the same step each time, you get the next note… I mean, the next number.” She just stared at me at first. Then she laughed and asked: “Are you seriously learning math through solfa?”
But then she tried it. “Do” was the first element, and then she kept adding “a third” – and suddenly it made sense to her. Okay, maybe it was a bit more complicated than that, but still.
She said that before, she had just memorized things – now, for the first time, she actually understood them. And I realized something too: what we learned through solmization as kids – patterns, systems, steps – doesn’t just help in music. It shows up in completely unexpected places.
I didn’t become a math genius. But ever since I look at formulas like a score, things are easier.
Maybe music gave me the key: how to find connections where others only see numbers.
My safe space
It was a few weeks before my final exams. My days were nothing but studying, and I woke up every morning with a tight feeling in my chest. Everyone kept saying: “Don’t do anything else, just study now.” But inside, I felt like I was suffocating.
That afternoon, we had choir rehearsal. Honestly, I didn’t know if I should go – I was exhausted in every way. But something in me said: just go. And during that rehearsal, for ninety minutes, I didn’t have to think about anything else.
I didn’t have to answer questions. I didn’t have to prove anything. It didn’t matter how many points I would get. I just paid attention, sang together with the others – and everything else disappeared. It was a different kind of focus. Not exhausting. Freeing.
The problems didn’t disappear. But somehow, they moved to the background. They didn’t take over my mind.
During rehearsal, it felt like putting brackets around my day – a safe space where I could set everything down for a while.
Music doesn’t always solve your problems. But it gives you space to become yourself again.
And sometimes, that’s the biggest help of all: to breathe, to step out of the constant pressure.
And when you return, everything feels just a little easier.
That afternoon, we had choir rehearsal. Honestly, I didn’t know if I should go – I was exhausted in every way. But something in me said: just go. And during that rehearsal, for ninety minutes, I didn’t have to think about anything else.
I didn’t have to answer questions. I didn’t have to prove anything. It didn’t matter how many points I would get. I just paid attention, sang together with the others – and everything else disappeared. It was a different kind of focus. Not exhausting. Freeing.
The problems didn’t disappear. But somehow, they moved to the background. They didn’t take over my mind.
During rehearsal, it felt like putting brackets around my day – a safe space where I could set everything down for a while.
Music doesn’t always solve your problems. But it gives you space to become yourself again.
And sometimes, that’s the biggest help of all: to breathe, to step out of the constant pressure.
And when you return, everything feels just a little easier.
Learning languages through music
I’ve loved music since I was a child – there’s always something playing in my ears. Many of my favorite songs have always been in English, but at first, I had no idea how to pronounce them properly, let alone sing them.
As a Kodály student, though, I wasn’t afraid of them. If I didn’t understand the lyrics, I just sing the melody it with solfa.
That way, I could at least follow the pitches accurately, even if I didn’t know the words. It became my own little method.
To this day, my family is amazed at what I can sing with solfa. But of course, they don’t understand it :)
As I grew older, it started to bother me that I didn’t know what I was singing. So I began looking up lyrics, translating them online, and paying attention to pronunciation. Little by little, I picked up more and more words and expressions. I ended up building quite a strong vocabulary.
Because solfa made the melody easy, I could focus entirely on the text and pronunciation.
I can honestly say that I learned to speak English through music. Not from textbooks, but from real sentences, emotions, and songs that actually mattered to me.
And when I first traveled abroad, I realized how much it helped. I dared to speak. I could respond naturally – not like in a classroom, but in real life. Music became my key to English. And it still is.
As a Kodály student, though, I wasn’t afraid of them. If I didn’t understand the lyrics, I just sing the melody it with solfa.
That way, I could at least follow the pitches accurately, even if I didn’t know the words. It became my own little method.
To this day, my family is amazed at what I can sing with solfa. But of course, they don’t understand it :)
As I grew older, it started to bother me that I didn’t know what I was singing. So I began looking up lyrics, translating them online, and paying attention to pronunciation. Little by little, I picked up more and more words and expressions. I ended up building quite a strong vocabulary.
Because solfa made the melody easy, I could focus entirely on the text and pronunciation.
I can honestly say that I learned to speak English through music. Not from textbooks, but from real sentences, emotions, and songs that actually mattered to me.
And when I first traveled abroad, I realized how much it helped. I dared to speak. I could respond naturally – not like in a classroom, but in real life. Music became my key to English. And it still is.
What we implemented
- More than 200 young people responded to our questionnaire, sharing what solmization, singing, and choir mean to them.
- 20 participants wrote personal stories about music learning, community, personal growth, and self-awareness.
- Based on these, we created a 15-part video series that is:
- contemporary, sensitive, and honest;
- built on real personal experiences;
- demonstrating that Kodály’s legacy can speak in the language of Generation Z.
What impact has engaging with music had on you?
“It makes me more sensitive toward society and the world as a whole; it opens me up to beauty and aesthetics; I know what to turn to in any life situation (I listen to or make music in every situation or event). I’m thinking especially of its therapeutic effect, which I believe is the most significant, and something more people should be aware of; it definitely develops my way of thinking; and it teaches patience, determination, diligence, perseverance, and cooperation.”
“Even though music learning and choir singing won’t become a full-time career for most of us, it’s still far from pointless. I feel much more cultured and experienced because of the many musical experiences I’ve had. A competition abroad, a big concert, or a Friday rehearsal may not be life-defining events, but they make life more beautiful and more colorful.”
“My musical knowledge helps me concentrate better and be more persistent, because practicing music requires patience and consistency. By developing my musical ear, I can recognize rhythms and pitches more easily, which is useful not only in music but also in everyday life, for example when learning languages or communicating. In addition, my experience in choir helps me work better in a team, which is also an advantage in professional environments.”
“Until fifth grade, I didn’t sing in a choir, couldn’t read music, and didn’t know solmization. But since becoming part of a community and starting music school, I can’t imagine my life without singing and music.”
“Music learning and choral singing help you better understand the relationships between sounds and improve attention and memory. Solmization provides a foundation for understanding musical logic, while singing in a choir strengthens teamwork and mutual awareness. Music is a shared experience that can be used anywhere, anytime.”
“My best experience in choir was probably the first time we sang together in front of a large audience. The feeling that months of practice and shared work finally came together in a beautiful, harmonious performance was simply indescribable. And the moment I saw that the audience enjoyed what we were doing filled me with real pride. I also love the sense of community in the choir, because everyone works toward the same goal, and that really brings the group together.”
What has solfa given you? Tell us in a few sentences!
When he finally heard it
My dad never understood why I went to choir. My mom and grandma always supported me – they came to concerts – but him… nothing.
He didn’t ask, didn’t praise me, wasn’t there. I had more or less accepted that this just wasn’t his world, but secretly it really bothered me.
No matter how much I told him about rehearsals, choir trips, competition results, he would just wave it off.
Then one day – maybe just because he got tired of hearing me talk about it – he said, “Alright, just this once, I’ll come and see what this is.”
I could barely believe it. I immediately started to panic.
Of course, he picked our Christmas concert, which is our biggest performance of the year. A double concert, full house, huge applause. I knew that if this didn’t move him, nothing would. During the 150th Geneva Psalm, I made sure to stand where he could see me clearly.
At the end of the concert, I looked for him in the crowd. He was standing there quietly, almost motionless, and I could feel that something had touched him.
Of course, he didn’t say it directly. He just said, “That was something I needed to hear.”
But from his voice, I knew that now he understood.
Ever since then, he always drives me to rehearsal, and he strongly recommends our concerts to everyone he knows:
“You can’t watch this on YouTube. You have to experience it there.”
And that means more to me than anything now. That he heard it. That he finally really heard it.
He didn’t ask, didn’t praise me, wasn’t there. I had more or less accepted that this just wasn’t his world, but secretly it really bothered me.
No matter how much I told him about rehearsals, choir trips, competition results, he would just wave it off.
Then one day – maybe just because he got tired of hearing me talk about it – he said, “Alright, just this once, I’ll come and see what this is.”
I could barely believe it. I immediately started to panic.
Of course, he picked our Christmas concert, which is our biggest performance of the year. A double concert, full house, huge applause. I knew that if this didn’t move him, nothing would. During the 150th Geneva Psalm, I made sure to stand where he could see me clearly.
At the end of the concert, I looked for him in the crowd. He was standing there quietly, almost motionless, and I could feel that something had touched him.
Of course, he didn’t say it directly. He just said, “That was something I needed to hear.”
But from his voice, I knew that now he understood.
Ever since then, he always drives me to rehearsal, and he strongly recommends our concerts to everyone he knows:
“You can’t watch this on YouTube. You have to experience it there.”
And that means more to me than anything now. That he heard it. That he finally really heard it.
Think by singing
I’ve played the violin since I was little. My parents are heroes: for years they listened to me “scraping away” at the strings.
My teacher never gave up on me either, even though for a long time, for years really, even producing a clean tone was a struggle.
She had one sentence she kept repeating: “The melody needs an arch.”
That meant absolutely nothing to me. I tried, of course, but I genuinely had no idea what she wanted to hear.
Then one day, at choir rehearsal, we were singing something with solfa – and suddenly, in the melody, I heard what I had never felt on the violin.
The next day, before I played that same passage again, I quietly sang it to myself first. With solfa, because that was the only way I could do it. And then, finally, I understood. It wasn’t just about bow technique. The melody moved inside me first – and only then did my bow follow.
Since then, I know that it’s not enough just to play a piece. You have to perform it. You have to think your way through it – think by singing.
My teacher saw that I was capable of this, and now, of course, I can see it too. That melodic arch was always there. I just had to hear it first.
My teacher never gave up on me either, even though for a long time, for years really, even producing a clean tone was a struggle.
She had one sentence she kept repeating: “The melody needs an arch.”
That meant absolutely nothing to me. I tried, of course, but I genuinely had no idea what she wanted to hear.
Then one day, at choir rehearsal, we were singing something with solfa – and suddenly, in the melody, I heard what I had never felt on the violin.
The next day, before I played that same passage again, I quietly sang it to myself first. With solfa, because that was the only way I could do it. And then, finally, I understood. It wasn’t just about bow technique. The melody moved inside me first – and only then did my bow follow.
Since then, I know that it’s not enough just to play a piece. You have to perform it. You have to think your way through it – think by singing.
My teacher saw that I was capable of this, and now, of course, I can see it too. That melodic arch was always there. I just had to hear it first.
Between tone colors
I live in two worlds: choir and folk dance. I’ve loved both since I was a child, and my parents heroically drove me from one rehearsal to the next performance. Time-wise, somehow everything fit.
But in my voice… well, not always.
As I sang more and more, my voice developed – it became stronger, more secure. I wanted to use that same sound in folk songs too, but there people looked at me strangely: “Don’t sing it like an aria, this isn’t opera.”
And then in choir, one day someone said, “Someone’s voice is sticking out way too much.”
One weekend we went to a dance house event, and the next day I had a choir concert. The sound of the folk pipes was still in my head, but I already had to get on stage. From the very first note, I felt it: something was off. The two worlds were getting mixed up – and unfortunately, other people noticed too. I knew I had to solve this.
I had to learn how to switch. Not just roles or styles, but tone color, presence, posture.
The two worlds work differently, and if I’m not paying attention, neither of them sounds right. Now I can feel when I need to hold back, and when I can be more present. Since then, I’ve learned how to retune myself. Not just my voice, but my attention, my gestures, even the way I think.
That’s how folk song became authentic, and choir music became unified. And maybe that’s why I now feel more at home on both stages.
But in my voice… well, not always.
As I sang more and more, my voice developed – it became stronger, more secure. I wanted to use that same sound in folk songs too, but there people looked at me strangely: “Don’t sing it like an aria, this isn’t opera.”
And then in choir, one day someone said, “Someone’s voice is sticking out way too much.”
One weekend we went to a dance house event, and the next day I had a choir concert. The sound of the folk pipes was still in my head, but I already had to get on stage. From the very first note, I felt it: something was off. The two worlds were getting mixed up – and unfortunately, other people noticed too. I knew I had to solve this.
I had to learn how to switch. Not just roles or styles, but tone color, presence, posture.
The two worlds work differently, and if I’m not paying attention, neither of them sounds right. Now I can feel when I need to hold back, and when I can be more present. Since then, I’ve learned how to retune myself. Not just my voice, but my attention, my gestures, even the way I think.
That’s how folk song became authentic, and choir music became unified. And maybe that’s why I now feel more at home on both stages.
Choir against stage fright
Whenever I had to answer in class or sing a solo, I would often literally freeze. No matter how much I practiced, no matter how many breathing techniques, concentration exercises, or positive mantras I tried, nothing helped. Stage fright beat me again and again.
Then came the choir concerts.
At first, I was just as nervous there too, but it was different. I wasn’t standing on stage alone. The others were around me – the people I breathe with, sing with, move with. We sound as one voice. And that gave me security.
Over the years, we had more and more performances, and without really noticing, I started to change. The audience’s eyes no longer tortured me. The paralyzing fear gave way to what I also feel in rehearsals: belonging, presence, joy.
In choir, I learned how to be brave even while still being afraid. The strength of the community holds me up too. And little by little, speaking or singing on my own stopped feeling so terrifying. More and more, I feel that I have a voice – and that I dare to let it out.
I heal in choir. I grew up there, and that’s where I learned how to make myself heard.
Maybe I’ll still be nervous for a long time.
But now I know where to turn when my voice starts to shake. Music and community will always hold me up. That’s why I will always sing in choir.
Then came the choir concerts.
At first, I was just as nervous there too, but it was different. I wasn’t standing on stage alone. The others were around me – the people I breathe with, sing with, move with. We sound as one voice. And that gave me security.
Over the years, we had more and more performances, and without really noticing, I started to change. The audience’s eyes no longer tortured me. The paralyzing fear gave way to what I also feel in rehearsals: belonging, presence, joy.
In choir, I learned how to be brave even while still being afraid. The strength of the community holds me up too. And little by little, speaking or singing on my own stopped feeling so terrifying. More and more, I feel that I have a voice – and that I dare to let it out.
I heal in choir. I grew up there, and that’s where I learned how to make myself heard.
Maybe I’ll still be nervous for a long time.
But now I know where to turn when my voice starts to shake. Music and community will always hold me up. That’s why I will always sing in choir.
Kodály Zoltán today
In August 2025, the 27th International Kodály Symposium was held in Kecskemét. Musicians, music educators, and conductors arrived from all over the world.
The program included concerts, workshops, and demonstration lessons – and our choir sang at the opening concert as well.
We were unusually nervous before the performance. We knew that very special people would be sitting in the audience – people who follow and carry on Kodály Zoltán’s pedagogy around the world.
It felt good to know that we could also be part of this celebration, and that we could greet them through our singing.
At the demonstration lesson held at the Kodály School, sixth-grade students showed what they learn in music class. They sang with solfa, placed notes on the hand, wrote melodies, clapped rhythms – exactly the way we learned too. It was surprising to see how familiar every exercise was. I even joined in with them myself.
But the most moving part was that the people in the audience – adults, retired teachers, foreigners – were doing the same exercises together with the children. For a moment, the age differences disappeared. The distance disappeared. The different languages disappeared. Everyone was speaking the same “language.”
That was the moment when I truly understood what Kodály Zoltán’s legacy means. A system that connects us. A language that is understood the same way all over the world – and also here in Kecskemét. And because of that, I can also be part of this musical community.
The program included concerts, workshops, and demonstration lessons – and our choir sang at the opening concert as well.
We were unusually nervous before the performance. We knew that very special people would be sitting in the audience – people who follow and carry on Kodály Zoltán’s pedagogy around the world.
It felt good to know that we could also be part of this celebration, and that we could greet them through our singing.
At the demonstration lesson held at the Kodály School, sixth-grade students showed what they learn in music class. They sang with solfa, placed notes on the hand, wrote melodies, clapped rhythms – exactly the way we learned too. It was surprising to see how familiar every exercise was. I even joined in with them myself.
But the most moving part was that the people in the audience – adults, retired teachers, foreigners – were doing the same exercises together with the children. For a moment, the age differences disappeared. The distance disappeared. The different languages disappeared. Everyone was speaking the same “language.”
That was the moment when I truly understood what Kodály Zoltán’s legacy means. A system that connects us. A language that is understood the same way all over the world – and also here in Kecskemét. And because of that, I can also be part of this musical community.
What do the responses show?
The aim of the Kodály Z Gen project is to understand how young people today think about solmization, choral singing, and the personal impact of music education. Based on the feedback of more than 200 respondents, a clear picture emerges: Kodály’s pedagogical concept not only works, but is present in everyday life – often, as students themselves describe it, “almost unconsciously.”
- More than 70% of respondents internally hear melodies in solfa when simply listening to music.
- Nearly 80% believe that solmization supports memory and logical thinking, not only in music but in other subjects as well.
- Open-ended responses reveal that many students find it easier to learn mathematics or foreign languages when they think in musical structures.
- And perhaps most importantly: singing together builds confidence, reduces tension, supports connection, and creates a community where people feel they belong.
Do you think solmization has improved your memory or logical thinking?
- Yes 77%
- No 23%
Do you still consider learning music useful even if you don’t plan to make a career out of it?
- Yes 96%
- Absolutely, no question! 2%
- No 2%
Have you ever felt that singing together helps you better understand or accept others?
- Yes 55%
- Maybe 32%
- No 13%
Do you hear the music with solfa when you’re just listening, not singing?
- Yes, I’ve noticed it several times 60%
- Yes, I hear every melody with solfa 13%
- Now that you mention it, I can hear it too 13%
- I don’t hear it at all 9%
- Only familiar melodies 2%
- Sometimes, especially if I try 2%
In which subjects do you feel solmization has helped (or could help) you perform better?
- Mathematics 50%
- Language learning 19%
- Literature 9%
- Physics 4%
- Chemistry 2%
- I can’t link it to a specific subject, but it helps overall with learning 2%
- I haven’t noticed any impact 4%
What comes next?
The Kodály Z Gen project has not ended – it has only just begun.
The responses from young people clearly confirm that the impact of solmization and collective singing extends far beyond music learning.
The responses from young people clearly confirm that the impact of solmization and collective singing extends far beyond music learning.
In the future, we aim to:
- expand the research, reaching hundreds or even thousands of singers both nationally and internationally;
- engage other generations, exploring how solmization is experienced by those who have lived with it for many years;
- connect communities through knowledge exchange, workshops, and programs involving both teachers and students.
If you have an idea, a story, or a proposal for research or collaboration, feel free to contact us: aurinfoundation @ gmail.com