Tamas Ungar sits at his piano bench with his eyes closed, listening.

At the piano parallel to his own, his student’s fingers glide across the keys as he plays Franz Liszt’s “Spanish Rhapsody.”

At a shift in pace, noticeable only to a studied pianist, Ungar’s eyes snap open, and suddenly, he is playing alongside his student – only slower.

“It has to make itself push!” Ungar instructs in his soft Hungarian accent over the music of the two pianos nearly in sync.

The student slows his playing and Ungar removes his hands from the keys, this time humming along to the tune of the rhapsody with his arms thrown into the air as if he is conducting a symphony.

This is only one in a series of lessons Ungar teaches each day, but for each one he offers mirrored passion.

Ungar, 61, has been teaching piano since he was 15, when he started to make extra pocket money while in school.

Born in Hungary, Ungar and his family immigrated to Australia when he was 10 to escape the Hungarian Revolution of 1956. In Australia, Ungar studied at the Sydney Conservatorium of Music and eventually came to Indiana University to further his education.

He then moved back to Hungary to research his doctoral dissertation, eventually returning to Indiana to finish his doctor of music degree. After two years of teaching in California, Ungar was invited to come to TCU.

Ungar teaches in his office

Drafting musicians

Now, 46 years since he began teaching, students come from around the world to study piano at TCU under Ungar.

Each year, eager students are turned away, as Ungar can only fill four or five places. He described the feeling as bittersweet – flattered that students wish to work with him but saddened he can accept so few.

“You cry with one eye and laugh with the other,” Ungar said.

Although there is a waiting list of students who wish to work with Ungar, it wasn’t always this way. He likened the process of building a music program to that of a football team, saying, “Your class is as good as your recruiting.”

When he started at TCU in 1978, he said the recruiting process looked a lot different.

“I tried to get students but they seemed to always go somewhere else,” Ungar said.

Getting into the rhythm

But that is not the case today. Danny Zelibor, a junior piano performance major from Indianapolis, said he came to TCU strictly to be taught by Ungar. He did not like the idea of living in Texas and did not want to move to Fort Worth, but in looking for a piano professor, “there was nothing better.”

Richard Gipson, director of The School of Music, said Ungar’s presence at the university draws students to TCU from around the world, and his 30-year tenure has created a legacy for future pianists.

“His influence, recognition and reputation have certainly been spread throughout the world,” Gipson said.

Zelibor said Ungar stands out from other piano professors because of his willingness to mold lessons and teaching styles to each student he encounters and because of his passion for music.

“A lot of teachers make the fact that they’re teaching feel like a job, but when you’re at a lesson with him you know he’s enjoying it,” Zelibor said.

Going beyond the notes

Ungar’s passion for music and teaching is almost palpable – his eyes light up as he watches his students perform and when he speaks of playing, the softness in his voice reflects his love for the art. In performing, Ungar said, one is able to influence the audience with music, but is never able to see the results.

“Of course they clap and they ask you to come back for more,” Ungar said. “And then maybe 10, 15 or 20 people come behind and tell you face to face how good it is, and they want your autograph. And then you finish, and the next morning you get on the plane and do it again the following day.”

But in teaching, he said, he is able see students evolve through the progression of their music.

“You change and challenge their minds and mold their minds and push them way beyond their capacity,” Ungar said. “And that is a different creativity.”

Creativity, Ungar said, is a very human experience and people seek to be creative in all they do. And it is the creativity that inspires Ungar.

“The inspiring thing about music is the joy of creation – the joy of doing something that nobody else can do,” Ungar said. “Because everybody plays the same piece but nobody can do what another person does – it cannot be manufactured and that is where the human element comes in.”

This creativity is what Ungar looks for when he recruits students.

“When you see a piece of music it is all symbols,” Ungar said.

He compared the notes on a page to Egyptian hieroglyphics.

“Music is like that,” Ungar said. “You can understand the note was written at a certain pitch, whether on the piano or violin you play; it tells you how loud or soft you play and how to play it, short or long, and how to approach it. It’s like mathematics.”

But the formulaic side of music is not what matters, Ungar said with a smile; it’s what is behind the notes. And the people who go behind the notes are the true musicians, he said.

“If a person stops and just regurgitates what the music says on the surface and they haven’t innately within themselves taken the trouble to do something with it, those people, I don’t think have a chance,” he said.

So he looks for those who do go beyond the notes. He travels all over the world playing and teaching and bringing talented young musicians to work with him at TCU. But when they get here, he does more than teach them music.

Building relationships

Ungar’s office in Ed Landreth Hall is unlike most others on campus. Two pianos fill the space where a desk would usually rest, and his desk, hardly seen, is pushed into a corner behind boxes of programs from student concerts and recitals.

But despite the studio appearance of the room, students visit Ungar’s office for more reasons than to practice piano. Ungar has built relationships with many of his students that extend beyond music.

Zelibor remembers a time in his life when he was struggling – his grades were suffering along with his piano playing, and Ungar noticed.

“One day he called me into his office, shut the door and said I wasn’t leaving until we talked and he made sure everything was OK,” Zelibor said.

It is this type of bond that Zelibor says makes Ungar an outstanding professor and friend.

Keeping composed

Ungar’s time is limited – his busy schedule has him teaching most of the day, and he practices for his performances and concerts at night – so when he does have free time, he does not listen to music.

“Unfortunately, I do not listen to music for pleasure,” Ungar said. “I hear music all the time, so silence is gold when I can get it.”

But Ungar rarely hears silence.

In most campus hallways, chattering students can be heard, but the halls leading to Ungar’s office are filled with music – competing pianos can be heard from behind closed studio doors, and the singing of students rehearsing for performances plays softly in the background.

But this is not unusual for Ungar, because music is everywhere to him. Music is his life.