George Feyer

(Continued) In a review in The New York Times in 1980, John S. Wilson commented on Mr. Feyer's intimate, polished style: ''He literally plays his audience, which invariably includes longtime fans, fitting a remark to a table on the left, acknowledgement of a request from a far corner into his performance, drawing his listeners in with an anecdote, a recollection or an Ogden Nash poem and creating an ambience that is informal but delicately controlled.'' Among Mr. Feyer's witty specialties was linking pop lyrics to classical tunes, mixing Beethoven's Ninth Symphony with ''By the Time I Get to Phoenix,'' for example.

But one of his worst experiences became a New York legend. When he took his usual vacation on Nantucket Island in 1968, Bobby Short replaced him, beginning a fabled, uninterrupted run at the Carlyle. The management had changed, and the move turned out to be permanent. ''I took the most expensive vacation of them all,'' Mr. Feyer said to Mr. Lang. However, his career continued at the Stanhope and Waldorf-Astoria.

Mr. Feyer was born in Budapest on Oct. 27, 1908. His mother, a piano teacher, tied his legs to the piano bench to force him to practice, Mr. Feyer's son, Robert, said. Mr. Feyer nonetheless went on to become a brilliant student at the Franz Liszt Academy of Music, where one of his classmates was Georg Solti, the conductor, who became a lifelong friend. He then disappointed teachers and others who expected him to follow a classical career by turning to pop music after his graduation in 1932. His son said his decision was treated as a minor scandal at the time.

One of his first jobs was playing the accompaniment for silent movies, but he soon graduated to nightclubs. He and his partner, a drummer, began working around Europe. In Paris one of their fans was the exiled Duke of Windsor; he liked accordion music, and the two drew straws to see who would learn to play the instrument. Mr. Feyer won; the drummer had to learn the accordion.

At the outbreak of World War II, Mr. Feyer returned to Hungary to be with his family. The Nazis put him on forced labor details, then imprisoned him in Bergen-Belsen for the final year of the war. He returned to Budapest after the camp was liberated and married Judith Hoffman. He first played in an officers' club of the Allied armies, but left for Switzerland as the Soviets gained control of Hungary, remaining there for three years. After Hungary revoked the Feyers' passports and Switzerland would not let them become permanent residents, the couple, who by then had a son, found themselves stateless. In 1951 they went to New York, where they joined Mr. Feyer's brother, who had become a United States citizen.

Mr. Feyer's first booking was at the celebrated Gogi's La Rue, and he quickly moved on to Delmonico's and other clubs.  He spent 13 years at the Carlyle, which created a room for him, going so far as to hire a Hungarian decorator. He then spent 12 years at the Stanhope before going to the Waldorf-Astoria, where he played in a small, secluded, elegant room called the Hideaway. He made many recordings, mainly on the Vox label in the mid-1950's, his son said. His ''Echoes'' album series included ''Echoes of Paris'' and ''Echoes of Broadway.'' ''If there is any originality in my arrangements, it lies in the fact that they do not try to be original,'' he wrote in an essay. ''They are based on the eternal laws of music, which apply equally whether you play classical or popular, Mozart or Jerome Kern, Brahms or Johann Strauss.''

When his wife died in December 1982, Mr. Feyer stopped working full time. He continued to play at private parties and hotels and clubs in vacation spots, particularly in Palm Springs, Calif., where his second wife, the former Marta Kleyman, owned a home. In addition to her and his son, who lives in San Francisco, he is survived by three grandsons. Almost until the time of his death, Mr. Feyer performed weekly for patients at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center. His son said that after his dismissal from the Carlyle, he never set foot there again.