The exhibition will include letters from Szabó and his family sent from America to Budapest, along with his charcoal drawings, records, a poster, photographs, newspaper articles, recorded interviews, and a glove he gave his nephew.

Born in Budapest in 1936, Szabó picked up the guitar around age 14. Practice and a magical talent made him a standout on Budapest’s underground live jazz circuit. Not long after the 1956 Hungarian Revolution, Gábor, his brother John, father Imre, and mother Gabriella escaped the country, ending up in San Bernardino, California. After graduating from the prestigious Berklee College of Music in 1960, Szabó immediately joined the hot West Coast jazz band the Chico Hamilton Quintet.

From his first solo album, “Gypsy 66,” to his last, “Femme Fatale,” released only in Hungary, Szabó went his own way. His music embraced 1960s and ’70s pop-rock, disco, and fusion, as well as Hungarian folk, gypsy, and classical music, but sounded utterly unique. Tragically, Szabó succumbed early on to heroin addiction and alcoholism. He died in a Budapest hospital in 1982.

His exquisitely judged “less is more” approach to playing has influenced several so-called “name guitarists,” including Carlos Santana, George Benson, and Bill Frisell.

Along with Szabó’s biographer, Károly Libisch, his nephew Sándor Darányi and, for the Magyar Zene Háza, László Záhonyi are the driving forces behind the exhibition. Darányi and Záhonyi spoke to me about it.

Záhonyi explained that “we received an inquiry from jazz guitarist and researcher András Párnicky who, after meeting Sándor, began planning the commemoration.”

Man Behind the Music

The exhibition offers the opportunity for audiences to “find out who the man behind the music was,” Záhonyi says. “It is gratifying that with the memoirs, thoughts and family correspondence provided by Sándor Darányi, we can get closer to the full picture of how someone from refugee camps was able to settle in Hollywood a few years later and what ultimately led to his tragedy despite his success.”

“Gábor and John were my cousins. Imre, their father, was my mother’s older brother. My family and theirs lived together in Budapest for five years before the 1956 Revolution,” Darányi explains. “John is about my age, and Gábor was 15 years older than me, so I thought of them as my brothers. It was a shock to me when they escaped Hungary. They vanished overnight.”

Because of the age difference, Darányi has no memories of playing with Gábor when they were young. He remembers John far more clearly. “John was obsessed with birds. He kept his own falcon on the top of a modified carpet beater. During the Revolution, he crept into Budapest Zoo to feed the eagles.”

Darányi didn’t meet Szabó again until he came back to Hungary for the first time in 1974 with his then wife Alicia and nine-year-old son Blaise (Balázs in Hungarian). Their living situation was a far cry from their house on Cordell Drive in the Hollywood Hills. “They stayed in one room in our apartment,” Darányi recalls. “I slept somewhere else.”

At first, Szabó’s arrival was a disappointment. “For weeks, Gábor didn’t even pick up his guitar. He said that he was always practicing in his head. I was amazed.”

After nearly 20 years apart, Szabó and Darányi had to get to know each other again. One day, Darányi invited Szabó to Marczibányi tér [in Buda’s District II], where the band Interbrass, whose members included Tamás Berki, Györgyi Tarján, and János Másik on piano, gave free concerts.

Changing for Hungary

“When Interbrass took a break, I asked Berki if Gábor could play a couple of numbers,” Darányi remembers. “Gábor sat in. This was the beginning of his reputation growing in Hungary. Afterwards, Péter Módos organized his first TV performance, and Gábor began to change his style for Hungary.”

Szabó next returned to Hungary in 1977. He had separated from his family and was with Mariann Almássy. The musician stayed until early 1978, long enough to play an acclaimed concert at the Budapest Hilton that was broadcast live on Hungarian TV. He was now a star in Hungary.

Szabó returned to Hungary with Almássy for the last time in 1981. By then, the years of abusing his body had caught up with him. “He was ill but still concentrated intensely on his playing and put all his energy into it. I remember the way he moved like a snake with his guitar,” Darányi says. “I adored the way he did this.”

Now Darányi saw the man behind the star. “We went back to being family again.”

Darányi believes Szabó’s real Hungarian identity can be heard in the melodies he played when he began drawing more inspiration from this country’s folk and classical music. It was also apparent in his appetite for Hungarian cuisine. He loved tökfőzelék (a white marrow vegetable dish with dill), cabbage in tomato sauce, tejföl (sour cream), and Hungarian pickles with garlic and dill, fermented in the sun. He reveled in the Hungarian language and jokes and was a pun-master, but he also had a black English sense of humor.

I wondered if Darányi thought Gábor would have settled in Hungary had he lived. “He was nostalgic for the places of his childhood and youth, but much less so, because by then he had already traveled half the world,” Darányi says. “But I don’t think he could have settled down. How does someone who can’t settle find a home?”

Editor’s note: Dedicated readers of “Socialite” will know that David Holzer is something of a Szabó obsessive. He’s co-written a screenplay about him with fellow fan Mike Stax. They’re currently working on a biography of the musician.

The exhibition, “Gábor Szabó the Jazz Visionary: The Guitar Legend’s Journey From Budapest to Los Angeles,” runs until Jan. 9, 2027. Find out more at zenehaza.hu

This article was first published in the Budapest Business Journal print issue of September 18, 2026.