We traveled to Kecskemet on Friday for our monthly Fulbright meeting. You’ve just listened to the chiming of the noon bells at Town Hall..they only hint at the special day it turned out to be. The agenda included a group tour of the International Ceramic Studio and the Kodaly Pedagogical Institute of Music, followed by lunch and a walking tour of the city. You’d think that these are the usual touristy things to do …but nothing about the day or the place was typical.
I don’t know why, but I expected Kecskemet to be a small village. I have no real basis for this assumption, except that I knew that my Fulbright colleague, Meredith, was describing her life at the International Ceramic Studio as a Fulbright artist-in-residence, and it just struck me as a small, intimate kind of town. Instead, Kecskemet surprised me from the moment we arrived at the train station (BTW: we rode on car 18 again). It is a thriving city situated on the Great Hungarian Plain, as famous for paprika and apricot palinka as is for its many museums and art collections. Our entire group of about 30 Fulbrighters and staff walked across a town plaza; one minute we were in a busy town center, the next moment we had stepped through the gate of a low-slung white-washed stucco building into a cobble stoned courtyard, its stucco walls covered with ivy–the hush only broken by a fountain and the chirping of birds. I looked at Meredith, the surprise evident on my face, and she understood immediately. “I know,” she said, “it’s like stepping into another world.” The expression on the statue pictured below seemed a perfect reflection of my own sentiments.
The International Ceramics Studio (ICS) was established as a haven for artists who chafed under the restrictions of the communist regime and the artistic isolation that resulted from it. Interestingly enough, the communist government supported the creation of the ICS, even though its express purpose was to nurture artistic creativity and freedom. I asked Meredith about that paradox. She said, ceramics were considered “folk art,” and therefore not regarded in the same category as the other arts. Artists could use pottery, ceramics, concrete, and glass to express their desire for intellectual and individual freedom without the fear of repression that other Hungarian artists confronted. It is a cloistered space that is deeply inspirational and sacred. From the garden courtyards dotted with stunning pieces of contemporary and experimental sculptures, to the individual artists’ studios, to the outdoor exhibit areas, where the ceramics and pottery are displayed agains the stark simplicity of the white stucco walls, I felt literally uplifted by the harmony and spirituality intrinsic in both the art and the cloistered space that housed it. If you are interested in finding out more about the ICS, you can click here.
I particularly liked this sculpture (although I had a real problem trying to choose between photos to include in this posting). It is entitled A Forradomi Krisztuz (The Christ of the Revolution) by the Hungarian artist Eva Kun. I don’t mean to imply that every piece of artistic work makes a political statement, but, this piece struck both me and Bernard as a perfect example of the ways in which the arts and the Hungarian struggle for liberty have been inextricably linked. This is a theme that has appeared over and over again…it doesn’t matter where we go–it’s part of the fabric of life. Apart from that, it’s simply beautiful, don’t you think?
I don’t know about you, but I have always envied artists and musicians because of their ability to create. The closest I have come to this is in my garden. Being in the presence of so many gifted people who were eager to share their beautiful work with us, who were patient with our questions about their creative process and technique was very inspiring. Artists come from all over the world to work and live there…the institution is devoted not only to the transfer of knowledge, but also to the spiritual renewal of individuals.
Anyway, we walked from that cloister to the Zoltan Kodaly Pedagogical Institute of Music, which is housed in a former Franciscan monastery that was erected in the 1730s on the foundations of a 12th century church–another spiritual place that houses tremendous creative and intellectual energy. You may know that Kodaly was an innovator in music education who had a tremendous impact on pedagogy around the world (He is the originator of do-re-mi-so…) . Along with Bela Bartok, he collected Hungarian folk tunes (the bells you heard earlier were pealing a Kodaly composition based on one of those early songs). Kodaly said that it is the duty of the talented not only to cultivate their talent as much as possible, but to be of as much use as possible to their fellow men. “For every person’s worth is measured bby how much he can help his fellow men and serve his country.” He believed that real art is one of the most powerful forces in the history of humankind and that whoever “renders it accessible to as many people as possible is a benefactor of humanity.” Kodaly put his money where his mouth is–He is not just revered, but beloved in Hungary. Because of his work and his method, children in every Hungarian school have an education in music.
The photograph abovet shows the hallway that wraps around an interior courtyard the former Franciscan monastery. The courtyard has cobblestones in concentric circles around a huge lime tree in the center. The arches have been glassed in, but the harmony between the external and interior worlds is maintained.
After lunch, we went on a guided walking tour of Kecskemet. Our guide, a beautiful Hungarian woman who was herself a student at a Kodaly school, fairly glowed as she the described the architectural details of the marvelous Art Nouveau buildings and provided a historical context for understanding their significance…Kecskemet was very prosperous at the turn of the 19th century and its public buildings, like the town hall in the video, are a public testament to that wealth…the mayor and town council continue to hold regular meetings in its chambers…a witness to Hungarian history, to the Magyar love of beauty and the decorative arts, and to the grace of Art Nouveau. The hall literally took our breath away, as did the curved staircases, the intricately detailed arches, the stained glass windows, and carved woodwork…. You can see some of the details in the photographs below, although unfortunately, the pictures don’t do them justice. One of my colleagues remarked that, after the last meetings, she thought she had seen all of the beautiful buildings possible. Then, she’d go to another city and be struck anew by the incredible architecture and rich cultural life.
It was pouring rain when we left the apartment that morning. Annamaria Sas, the organizer of all our Fulbright-Hungary meetings and excursions, told me she was up half the night, worried about the inclement weather. The forecast was for a cold rain to fall for most of the upcoming weekend. We already had made plans to go on to Szeged, a town about one hour south of Kecskemet, and to be honest, the thought of slogging around in weather that cuts to the bone was not very appealing. By the time we arrived at the train station, it had stopped raining, although the skies were a sullen grey (I love that expression). The sun started to shine as we wandered around the courtyards of the ICS, and as we began our walking tour, it was actually balmy. You could see everyone turn their face upwards periodically…it just felt so wonderful…everyone clearly recognized it for the gift it was.
Three of our Fulbright friends, Meredith, Carol and Tom, joined us for a beer at a “sorozo” (all of the o’s have double dots over them) near the train station at the end of that magical day. When we raised our glasses, I proposed a toast to J. William Fulbright…without him none of this would have been possible.
Thanks for tuning in and best regards,
Marcsi
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