Scene featuring sheep on Irish coastline near Cliffden. Photo courtesy Tourism Ireland Imagery Library IRELAND

Once provincial Ireland rebuilds, with history in mind

(Galway) An aerial view of Ireland reveals the one thing the Irish cherish most: their lush yet rugged land. It shows the dualities that have marked a nation that in recent months has gone from boom to bust. But the scars of this country’s history underscore the character of a nation of survivors.

The rolling hills from the banks of the Shannon River to the rocky pastures just north of Galway show a verdant landscape that looks tropical in its misty hues. It’s an illusion, though, because this is a nation home to more sheep than people, and whose soil’s rocky composition and sickly potatoes over a century ago caused famine and gloom.

Perched atop a hill near Roundstone, one of the oldest fishing villages in the region of Connemara, lies what locals call a “famine cottage.” Sprinkled throughout the countryside and overgrown with moss, foliage and vines, these are sturdy yet ominously empty cavities of what were once the homes of those who fled Ireland’s devastating 19th-century famine.

Many escaped to America while others simply died out, leaving these forgotten shells like oysters strewn about a barren seabed.

Dynamic Galway
Less than 75 kilometers away is the Galway of today, a dynamic university city whose streets spill with students day and night. In a country where the median age is 35 and until recently plentiful jobs were a magnet for migrants, even today this area is a stark contrast to the same country decades ago.

Galway, a city that doesn’t sleep. Photo courtesy Jonathan Hession, Tourism Ireland Imagery Library IRELAND

“Ireland skipped the industrial revolution and went straight to education and high-tech industries,” says Ciaran Ganter, a 20-something entrepreneur sipping away a pint in a local pub. “That is one of the reasons why we were poorer 15 or 20 years ago.”

Ireland in the 1990s emerged as the “Celtic Tiger,” the booming economy of a youthful Europe. But this all came to a tumbling halt late last year when the debt-paralyzed nation was forced to concede to a bailout by the European Union and the International Monetary Fund.

But if any nation knows the rough life, it’s the Irish. Venture into Kenny’s Bookshop and Art Gallery on High Street and prominently displayed is a hardcover book by Tom Garvin, adorned with a depression-era black-and-white photograph of a destitute-looking man gazing into an empty landscape. The book is titled Preventing the Future: Why was Ireland so poor for so long?

The role of the Church
Garvin’s book, which raised eyebrows and opened debate, rests on the notion that the lack of Ireland’s development in the decades after its 1921 independence was caused by the then-powerful Catholic Church, in whose interest it was to maintain an under-educated and subservient society.

A lack of mass education denied preparation for life in the modern world, Garvin argues. It was only during the 1990s when a new and highly educated, technically trained and by then largely secular workforce came into being. It was then that Ireland finally began to flourish, and according to the author, a generation later than it could have.

Ancient Irish stone carved cross. Photo courtesy Nutan, Tourism Ireland Imagery Library, IRELAND

“Ireland is much more liberal now and the church doesn’t have so much influence,” says a confident Anna Metadjer, a humanities student at the National University of Ireland in Galway. “A lot of my friends don’t believe or don’t go to mass. Religion wouldn’t be as important to people our age now.”

Metadjer is in her early 20s, and proudly wears a necklace adorned with a small cross. Her family roots in Ireland date back generations, and her ancestors are buried at the 6th century medieval monastery in Clonmacnoise, which to this day remains a popular tourist attraction located at a remote spot overlooking the Shannon River.

A paddy will always buy a field
Though not oblivious to the past, Metadjer has other things on her mind. Pondering her future and travel plans with her friends in a Galway pub is more the order of the day. She wants to travel for a few years, but then return and acquire a house.

“It’s so expensive to get a house, but property and land means a lot to the Irish people, owning something,” she says. “A paddy will always buy a field, the saying goes. It’s the whole land thing, the whole history of Ireland. It was always a fight for land.”

In its growth towards becoming the “Celtic Tiger,” the Irish were in the property market, not far from their roots. They purchased property both domestically and abroad, from Spain to Budapest. The Irish went international, leaving behind their provincial roots.

As the land-loving Irish rebuild, they don’t lose their practical sense. Bitter memories guide them once again into the future as raindrops fall quietly yet steadily onto the lush Irish landscape. Just as it has done for generations on this green horizon.

Michael Flatley, the Lord of Dance and Celtic Tiger. Courtesy Chris Roche Publicity.

Loved by many, scorned by some. He is the Lord of Dance.

He is the most successful dancer in the world today, and probably seen by far more people than you would ever dream of. And, yes, he is certainly better paid. But Celtic Tiger may be Michael Flatley’s last hurrah, says Andrew Princz.

For all of you who don’t relish the hype and hoopla of a new show from the Irish dance bonanza-king, Michael Flatley: brace yourselves. The Lord of the Dance and his well-bosomed patriotic tap-dancing chicks are back, and they are taking the stage by storm.

Perhaps his crass style might not please you, but hold your jeers, because whether you like it or not the thing that he is made of is far closer to gold than your latest ballerina princess or modern dance sensation put together. Learn from him. He – I am sorry to disappoint you – is the most successful dancer in the world today, and probably by far seen by more people than you would ever dream of. And, yes, he is certainly better paid.

I know what you’re thinking. I venture to guess that while the average reader of this magazine may admire his sensational tap-dancing abilities, you certainly don’t even consider his aesthetic world to be worthy of conversation – let alone praise from this tasteful publication.

Let me try to challenge this notion, since I do believe that his influence is already felt. After all, it wasn’t long ago that United Kingdom “dance sensation” Akram Khan was propelled as high as new dance will take you in his performance of “Kaash,“ which was billed Khan’s quest to establish bridges between the worlds of contemporary dance, and the Indian classical dance form Kathak.

Sound like a Flatley wannabe? Certainly does to me. And while on tour in Budapest I spoke to Mr. Kahn only to quickly realize that he himself had consciously chosen to avoid delving into the more serious process of creation, instead creating a “show,“ à la Flatley, I must say.

Riverdance pivotal to success
How to propell to fame and where other dancers are clueless, Michael Flatley was able to tune into the MTV generation like no modern dance diva or pirouetting ballerina has. Michael Flatley was propelled to fame in 1994 after the creation of the seven-minute performance “Riverdance,“ an intermission piece for the Eurovision Song Contest. His flashy interpretation of traditional Irish dance would become an impressive phenomenon, and in just seven minutes he made traditional dance sexy, something that the traditionalists themselves would have been hard pressed to do in a lifetime.

Those seven minutes were broadcast to millions of homes, and Flatley saw his star rise. The self-professed workaholic and perfectionist who began his career as a boxer and a construction worker found solace in dance, entertainment. He was not without his critics, though, some of whom chastised his interpretation of Irish dance as veering away too far from the original Irish-dance moves.

“I say ‘folk’ them!,” Michael told me, in answer to those criticisms. “When I first hit the limelight there were a lot of people who were very upset with me because they thought I wasn’t pure enough in the traditional art form. I didn’t agree, because I think that if 100 years from now somebody looked back on this time and asked: ‘What did Flatley dance like?,’ if the answer were that ‘he just copied the guys who were 100 years before him,’ then I don’t think that that is good enough. You need to leave your mark, for better or for worse.”

“Riverdance“ was developed into a longer show which generated much excitement in London. After a falling-out with the producers of “Riverdance,“ Flatley broke off and created “The Lord Of The Dance,“ followed by “Feet Of Flames,“ shows that toured the world and were seen by billions – on TV screens at least, while his shows continue to tour to this day. And ultimately, these made Michael Flatley a very rich man. “I think that I did it in a very respectful way,” he adds, “I don’t think that in any way I have damaged the goods.”

The very Celtic Tiger
In the meantime Flatley’s latest work, “Celtic Tiger,“ was billed as an epic ode to Ireland and the heroic struggles that led the country to independence. The Budapest-showing of “Celtic Tiger,“ followed by another scheduled just three days later in Prague (and later cancelled because of “technical difficulties“ at the venue), were to be the dry-runs for the extensive fall North American tour that just recently got underway.

And, as ever, the jitters are justified. Like all performing artists, you are judged on your last show, and in the coming weeks we will see what the prognosis is for this not-so-prolific choreographer, entertainer, dancer.

Michael Flatley pictured at the Troya Castle in Prague where he attended a press conference to announced details of his new show Celtic Tiger.

“Most of the ballet companies and even the modern dance companies have subsidies that are being paid for by grants,” said Flatley with a tinge of pride, “Our show makes great money and we pay our dancers great money. I have 500 people working for me. I suppose that I’m an entertainer. I love being on the stage, playing my music, that is very close to me. I love entertaining.”

Before getting into more detail about “Celtic Tiger,“ let me take you back to the day before the Budapest-performance. Its machinery began to roll into Budapest just before the world premiere. The hot July sun pampered the stage as it was being set up with a giant-screen and a multitude of speakers, for maximum impact.

A small brigade of journalists and fans patiently waited for the arrival of their faithful king. And did the boy ever waltz in graciously. His private jet arrived somewhat later than expected, but eventually Michael Flatley arrived in the stadium wearing red sneakers and a sporty jacket, as if to say “Come and get me, because I’m ready.“ 
A smile was pasted on his face, and like a well greased machine he gave interview after interview to the daily press, smiling, his hands gesturing with emotive effect as he answered banal and repetitive questions. He didn’t flinch, and radiated the charm of a baby-kissing politician.

In addition to the daily media-types, there were the hard-core fans who it was obvious follow Michael around faithfully, taking pictures and signing autographs at every step.

That evening I took my seat quietly, and low-and-behold behind us were Mr. & Mrs. Flatley senior themselves, his brothers, sisters and of course his girlfriend – all flown in to see the show. Not far away was the “Irish fan-club,“ cheering the “Lord Of The Dance“ on. Never have I entered a football stadium with tens of thousands of people, and all the while, it felt like being in an intimate space. This show was for his family, as during the whole evening, he performed for them.

“My father and mother left Ireland in 1947 with nothing,” said Michael, “They moved to the United States and America gave them a great living and gave them a chance that they probably couldn’t have had at home. But my father and mother’s story is the story of millions of Irish people … and somebody has to tell that story.”

Is he a challenge for Ireland?
The lights went down, and all we could see was a pair of well glossed lips whispering the words, “There’s no place like home.“ For the whole first half, the story of the Irish was put to the stage with slick video images of the green land projected on a giant screen. Flatley himself took the center-stage, displaying his still energized prowess, and ability lead his troupe in dance.

From the early historical days, to clashes with the British Army, a simplistic history of Ireland was told. As the army set fire to homes, a chorus of “Rule Britannia” as chaos prevailed. The first half ended with the emotional Irish nationalist song, 
“A Nation Once Again.”

Basically “Celtic Tiger“ then veers into a rather crude patriotic package that includes bikini-clad women whose fashion statement are bosoms clad in Stars-and-Stripes with “heroic“ American soldiers marching to a ticker-tape parade in the background. Lets just call it warped fantasy, after all, such scenes just don’t happen anymore.

I suspect that sensing a lag in world confidence in the US of late, Flatley secretly hopes that some of Ireland’s success will rub off on his country of birth. The political undertones of this show will certainly not be hailed in by many in Europe, in any case. Ultimately, Michael Flatley may well go down in history as a one-show-wonder. After all, how to top his “Lord Of The Dance“ success would be challenge to anybody. “Celtic Tiger“ is ultimately a melting pot of mixed messages, and flimsy entertainment. Flatley himself, however, is not that concerned. He may well have the last laugh. 
“I have everything that I need in the world,” he said earnestly.

Claude Monet’s water-lilies have long been synonymous with the Impressionist movement. Photo © 2010, Andrew Princz, ontheglobe.com FRANCE

(Giverny) There is something second nature about the landscapes of the French region of Normandy. After all, most visitors have an image of these iconic locales etched in their consciousness long before they even arrive. It’s like a déjà vu, owing much to the 19^th century artistic movement instigated by the artists called the impressionists.

The dramatic skies at the beaches of Deauville; the picturesque much-painted quaint harbor of Honfleur; the domed cliffs of Etretat; the Cathedral at Rouen or the simple beauty of Claude Monet’s quiet gardens at Giverny. All of these sites have been immortalized by the canvases of the impressionists who lead by the galvanizing figure of Monet, revolutionized modern art.

A summer festival in Normandy has begun to draw pilgrims to impressionism. Visitors are encouraged to discover the movement’s roots in the towns, villages and landscapes of this region of France just north of Paris. The characteristic light and dramatic landscapes here have attracted generations of artists and the much-touted festival is a milestone for impressionism. It is a homecoming of sorts.

The influence of the Normand coast and Seine Valley
This French region on the country’s northern shores was the birthplace of a movement that went on to change artistic perceptions of the natural world.

“Impressionism was the result of a long evolution which began on the Normand coast and in the Seine Valley in the 1820s after the meeting of English avant-garde artists like Turner, Bonington and Cotman and their French counterparts Gericault, Delacroix, Isabey…” says Jacques-Sylvain Klein, the director of the Impressionist Normandy festival, and also the author of the publication Normandy, cradle of impressionism.

“The movement progressively evolved here from earlier interest in nature, pre-impressionism and finally in the 1870s when we really reached the impressionist period.”

Etretat is famous for its stunning cliff formations, including the chalk needle. Claude Monet interpreted many of the scenes along the coast. Photo © 2010, Andrew Princz, ontheglobe.com FRANCE

The road to impressionism left its mark here with the experimentations of artists like Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot, the landscapes of Dutch painter Johan Barthold Jongkind and even the British artist J M W Turner who all show Norman connections.

But it was perhaps the painterly brushstrokes of Trouville beach-scenes and plein air works of Eugene Boudin that lead to the revolutionary discoveries of his younger disciple, Claude Monet. It was Monet’s 1872 painting Impression, Sunrise with its loose adaptation of color and light on the harbor in Le Havre which became the incarnation of the term impressionism; a direction in art that prized instantaneous loose impressions of color and mood to the landscape.

Through its hundreds of events and exhibitions, this summers multi-disciplinary festival Impressionist Normandy delivers a well-crafted story of the development of impressionism through it’s past, the landscapes in which it was born, and even the movement’s continuing influences on artistic creation.

This event, which runs through September, was the brainchild of former French Prime Minister Laurent Fabius. It features two hundred exhibitions throughout one hundred villages and towns of Normandy. The festival is expected to attract several hundred thousand visitors to the region.

And while you may not find the bulk of the masterpieces of the movement which have long-ago made their way to Parisian and international collections; memorable temporary exhibitions, local collections and the genuine sites where impressionism developed draw visitors into the world of 19^th century creation.

In the small commune of Honfleur on the southern banks of the estuary of the River Seine is the Eugene Boudin Museum, now hosting the exhibition Honfleur, Between Tradition and Modernity, 1820-1900. Streets lined with historic houses characterize Honfleur, its small cafes and immediately recognizable port-views. This was also the one-time home of Euguene Boudin, and this comprehensive pre-impressionist focused exhibition lays the groundwork through the paintings of Camille Corot, Gustave Courbet, and Eugene Boudin, who would encourage Claude Monet to begin taking his paints outdoors.

Hugely popular with holidaying Parisian’s in the early 19th century and a place of inspiration for many artists, including Coco Chanel who opened one of her first boutiques here, more recently many famous personalities, from Antonio Banderas to Robert de Niro, have graced the boardwalks of the glamorous seaside resort of Deauville at its annual American Film Festival. Photo © 2010, Andrew Princz, ontheglobe.com FRANCE

“These beach-scenes were a revolution at the time,” says Rosaleen Aussenac, a guide at the Eugene Boudin Museum, “In the 19^th century when you painted people you always had a main character; a princess or an empress around whom you had the various sub-characters. But the changes came when suddenly you were unsure of just who the main character was and everybody was at the same level. This was a very strange notion in their day.”

A short drive inland is the city of Caen, a one-time ducal estate founded by William the Conqueror in the 11^th century. Here the Caen Museum of Fine Arts is putting on Impressionist prints, treasures from the Bibliotheque Nationale de France. The exhibition of 120 works includes those authored by Edgar Degas, Edouard Manet, Camille Pisarro and the less painterly works of Mary Cassatt. This exhibition reveals little more than how the whimsical nature of impressionism translated poorly to the print medium and validates Claude Monet’s refusal to be involved in the printmaking process.

At the port-city of Le Havre, the Malraux Museum boasts a respectable collection of impressionist paintings. This week the museum will launch the exhibition Unpublished Degas: Degas from the Senn Donation, a collection of some 205 unpublished drawing and pastels of Edgar Degas amassed by 19^th century cotton merchant and art collector Olivier Senn.

The town of Rouen is another iconic stop on the impressionist route in Normandy. Peering out from a one-time undergarment shop across from the cathedral at Rouen gives you what is probably the most unique view of the very locale where Claude Monet painted some thirty now-famous views of this astounding place of worship.

The Cathedral of Rouen which was depicted by impressionist painter Claude Monet. Photo © 2010, Andrew Princz, ontheglobe.com FRANCE

Long after he had left his mark on a generation of artists the stout middle-aged, beleaguered white bearded Claude Monet and his by then extended family settled in the small Normand village of Giverny. It was here in the Normand landscape where he once again rediscovered a passion for living. Claiming he was, ‘only good for painting and gardening’, over the following years he went about the creation of his living masterpiece; freely planted gardens, a small lake and Japanese bridge that he would paint profusely in his later years.

“With Giverny, Monet was able to meld his two passions as he literally went on living as a kind of a hermit here,” says Laurent Echaubard, vice-president of the Giverny-based Fondation Claude Monet, “As he grew older he would develop health problems and Giverny would become his single source of inspiration. He would go on to paint here until his last breath.”

A first stop at the Manoir d'Apreval. This is a family run Cider and Calvados factory situated near Honfleur and on the banks of the Seine estuary. Photo © 2010, Andrew Princz, ontheglobe.com FRANCE

At the beginning of the 20th Century 25 hectares of "high branch" apple trees were planted that later became the base resources for Cider and Calvados that are made according to the Pays d'Auge traditions. Photo © 2010, Andrew Princz, ontheglobe.com FRANCE

Honfleur and its surroundings were a source of inspiration for the impressionists. Camille Corot, Gustave Courbet, Eugène Boudin, Alexandre Dubourg and Claude Monet all drew inspiration from this small scenic port-village. Photo © 2010, Andrew Princz, ontheglobe.com FRANCE

The chic belle époque seaside resort of Deauville is also known as the city of the horse for its regular international horse races, and famed for its beautiful seafront villas and boutiques. Photo © 2010, Andrew Princz, ontheglobe.com FRANCE

When we arrived at Caen a commemoration was taking place commemorating the WWII era liberation of this town by allied forces. Caen was a ducal estate founded by William the Conqueror in the 11th century. Photo © 2010, Andrew Princz, ontheglobe.com FRANCE

André Malraux Museum is known for having the largest Impressionist collection outside of the Musée d’Orsay in Paris. Photo © 2010, Andrew Princz, ontheglobe.com FRANCE

The port at Le Havre is the most important in France in terms of traffic. Photo © 2010, Andrew Princz, ontheglobe.com FRANCE

The St. Joseph's Church in Le Havre was dedicated to the 5,000 civilian victims of WWII-era air raids in the port-city. Photo © 2010, Andrew Princz, ontheglobe.com FRANCE

Learning to paint like Claude Monet at the very locale where the father of impressionism created his famous series of works of the Rouen Cathedral. Photo © 2010, Andrew Princz, ontheglobe.com FRANCE

The Big Clock Tower of Rouen is sustained by an arch spanning the street. This main street, reserved for the pedestrians, is lined with a series of sumptuous half-timbered façades painted with vivid colors. Photo © 2010, Andrew Princz, ontheglobe.com FRANCE

In front of the Rouen Fine Arts Museum, the summer impressionist festival presents a light show titled “Impressionist Nights of Rouen”. Lights are projected onto this major Rouen site linked to Impressionism every night. Photo © 2010, Andrew Princz, ontheglobe.com FRANCE

Sculpture on the façade of a house in the village of La Bouille, birthplace of French writer Hector Malot. Photo © 2010, Andrew Princz, ontheglobe.com FRANCE

Taking a tour by a radiant young guide at the Giverny Impressionism Museum. As part of the Normandie Impressionniste festival, the Giverny Impressionism Museum is organising an exhibition that brings together approximately fifty paintings from public and private collections. Painted along the banks of the Seine, they retrace the history of Impressionism and Post-Impressionism, from Eugène Boudin to Henri Matisse. This event includes masterpieces by Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Claude Monet, Camille Pissarro, Alfred Sisley, and Gustave Caillebotte. Photo © 2010, Andrew Princz, ontheglobe.com FRANCE

Monet’s garden. Aside from being the home of his famous gardens, it became the home of Monet and his wife Alice after they discovered the rural town in 1880. By 1887, the spot had become something of an artists’ colony, with painters, writers and art students descending upon the little town. This influx of artists created a demand for cafés, hotels and meeting places, to which the locals responded by building up their town and thereby securing Giverny’s reputation as a haven of creativity. Photo © 2010, Andrew Princz, ontheglobe.com FRANCE

The one-time residence of Maurice Ravel in the village of Lyons-la-Forêt. Photo © 2010, Andrew Princz, ontheglobe.com FRANCE

ATOUT FRANCE www.franceguide.com is main link to French tourist information for Canadians.

Ferenc Nádasdy returned to Hungary following the dramatic political and economic changes of over a decade ago. Courtesy photo.

Ferenc Nádasdy: Re-building a dream

By Ferenc Nádasdy

The story, in his own words, of one of Hungary’s last surviving members of the Nádasdy family, among Hungary’s oldest noble families. This is the story of a Count who was ousted from his family home before he fled to Canada. It was only several decades later that Nádasdy returned to recover the stately mansion in which he grew up. The former-artistocrat went on to develop a foundation devoted to fostering the arts and preserving the global environment.

(Budapest) The world changed drastically in my early childhood, at a time of terrible turmoil and disorder in Europe. Like many others born into a historic family in Hungary ours too ended up dispersed, uprooted and robbed of our worldly possessions with the arrival of the communist era.

The traces of history can leave cruel marks, with the last century being no exception.

I was born in 1937, and until the age of seven I lived in the Nádasdy Mansion, a stately home not far from Budapest built by my ancestors in the 19th century. The Nádasdy family traces its roots in Hungary for over 800 years, and the historic heritage that was left to me included a host of colorful characters, national heroes, and even some less glorious but still important figures. Whatever their background, these people today color history books: they were dreamers and builders.

Like many Hungarians of my age, in the fall of 1944 I lost my father to the ravages of the Second World War. In early 1945 my mother, two sisters and I escaped Hungary for the first time when the communist forces initiated their battle against the aristocracy.

When we returned life was obviously not the same as in the pre-war period. I no longer had a father, and all of the worldly goods of a very old family were no longer ours: these had been nationalized, stolen or otherwise dispersed.

Seeing how a home can easily be taken away was an early lesson that has remained with me throughout my life as a kind of a backdrop. As a result, I never ended up being of the mind to purchase real-estate since it is just not as tangible as people think.

When we returned to the village of Nádasladany in early 1946, there was no question of our returning to the mansion. We were generously put up by a villager until sometime in 1948, when we were forced to flee the very village that bore our name. Our family left for Budapest, and then in were even forced out of the capital. This period marked the very last time that our family was together.

My sisters quietly went to live in little villages. I went to Kecskemet with my mother and finished my high school diploma, before I was designated to work the night shift in a factory as a laborer.

I couldn’t go near a university since our name was categorically black-listed and we were de facto forbidden from taking part in society in many ways.

With the failure of the revolution in 1956 in late November, I suddenly didn’t see much of a future for myself in Hungary. I didn’t hesitate to leave.

I set out for a journey to the border that would take me a couple of weeks, and would eventually lead to Canada. I can clearly remember my arrival in Halifax on the 5th of January 1957. I’ll never forget that day because it was minus 15 degrees, and I thought I’d turn around and go home right away, it was so cold! However, Canada became my welcoming home for the next forty years.

I only ended up getting my Canadian citizenship after my studies in the United States, which I was able to do with a scholarship. Then I began a phase of photography and various other artistic endeavors. The early years in Canada were for me a time of being broke and on my own, searching for a new place and a new meaning.

Maybe it is because my family was dispersed when I was so young that I basically spent much of my life living alone. When I think of it, I’ve been pretty much on my own since I was nineteen years old. There were various exceptions to the rule, there being three marriages! But somehow I have lived the life of a lone wolf for many years.

When I reached my thirtieth birthday I suddenly realized that I had used about half of my life, and that thought ended up inspiring me to devote time to accomplish a mission that ended up being re-born decades later in the form of the Nádasdy Foundation for the Arts and Environment.

As it happened, the moment of realization was during the beginning of the first wave of environmental and ecological movements around the world, in the late 1960′s and early 1970′s, after the release of the first Club of Rome report. The report really shook up the Western world, which had been oblivious to the problems, and began a realization that there was another dimension to life on earth. That was the environment.

The world is still talking about this today, with the recent world summit in Johannesburg again showing that the world is still fragmented about these vital and basic issues. This, however, makes my resolve even stronger.

At that time I decided to take a sabbatical from my working life in Canada, and I traveled to Crete where I spent about two years working on a book that would never get published. This time was, however, a determining factor for my personal mission, and that of the dream of the foundation and academy.

I had a lot of concepts that were developed in the manuscript that I called ‘The Revolution of Survival’, and most of the principles that I talked about then are the very same that I still follow to this day.

Over the subsequent decades I did have a real job. In Canada, I worked in the business of importing wines for the international firm Remy Martin and other spirit companies. I traveled to and from the wine regions of California, South Africa, the Bourgogne and Champagne in France, the Rhine in Germany, and parts of Chile. I tasted a lot of good wine at that time, and got a picture of the different cultures of the world through the cultivation of grapes and production of good wines!

The idea of creating a foundation where the arts and environment met, however, never left me.

It was in the early 1990′s when I started to return to Hungary more frequently, and began working with succeeding governments in Hungary to have the use of the family mansion to fulfill the concepts behind the foundation.

The idea behind the Nádasdy Foundation for Arts and Environment was to establish an international, non-profit organization that would establish the Nádasdy Academy for Arts and Environment.

The mission was to demonstrate that art and our diverse cultures are an essential part of our environment and that the environment is an integral part of culture. The two are therefore irrevocably linked through their vital and constant interaction and should always be considered, nurtured and brought back into balance as one.

The concept was to support the development of the arts and enhance cultural life as part of our total environment. The mansion was to be the venue where we would attempt to find responsible solutions to attain sustainable development in order to prevent the further destruction of our global ecology.

A new term or concept that has been promoted by the Nádasdy Foundation is « sustainable environment and individual responsibility », which is the only way in which the global ecology and life on the planet will be maintained.

As we have now recognized, today the world faces unprecedented challenges, and solutions are not only desirable but absolutely necessary.

The Nádasdy Academy, which will only be able to be completed with further financing and the complete restoration of the stately home, is intended to nourish growth in the creative capacity of artists as well as business and civic leaders. The academy will provide a rare setting for creativity and a unique environment in which decision-makers can re-charge their intellectual batteries and renew attitudes. In short, a resort for the mind.

A Hungarian and Canadian citizen, Ferenc Nádasdy is the president of the Nádasdy Foundation for the Arts and Environment, and is one of the last surviving members of the historic Nádasdy family.

Akram Khan: more show than substance. Courtesy photo Chris Nash

‘Sensational’ choreographer struggles to go beyond the physical in his unique dance research

(Budapest) He has been called a ‘dance sensation’, and if the physical language that he creates is to be judged, Akram Khan does put on a whopping spectacle.

Only buried beneath his latest performance Kaash is an honest, sincere research that the choreographer himself admits are those aspects that were truly the most difficult to delve into. Khan edited them out.

« It was much deeper and much longer, » reflects Khan in an interview with ontheglobe.com, « but I was not convinced. So I cut away a lot of it which was more conceptual and has more text, since I haven’t found my own way in which to express a conceptual idea. »

« My work is very physical, and I think that is what excites people more, » he added.

Born in the UK of Bangladeshi origin, award winning choreographer Akram Khan brings down the barriers between the traditional Indian dance of Kathak and contemporary dance to find out what lies beyond. Highly skilled in both dance techniques, Khan teams up with some of the most gifted composers, lighting/set designers and dancers currently working in Britain and abroad.

In his most recent work Kaash, Khan teams up with the celebrated talents of the noted contemporary sculptor Anish Kapoor (set design) and Nitin Sawhney (composer) to present his company’s first full length evening work Kaash (Hindi word for « if »).

ontheglobe.com spoke with Akram Khan shortly after a recent Budapest performance.

Princz: How did you jump into the idea of bringing a traditional Indian dance form and molding it into a contemporary dance aesthetic? What is Khatac?

Khan: Kathak is a north-Indian classical dance. There are seven different Indian classical dance forms, and Kathak is the only one that has Islamic and Hindu influence. All of the other dance forms have a purely Hindu influence. Khatac is a narrative, story-telling dance form but it also has a powerfully abstract aspect.

What I am drawing on is inspiration, not just the technique of Kathak, but the energy, which is what I try to incorporate into the work that we do.

It really wasn’t my decision to get involved in Khatac, since I started when my mother pushed me into it. I was a very volatile kid, and extremely energetic. She put me into different kinds of a cultural activities, particularly Indian or Bengali folk dance.

She herself organized dance events in London, and there was always a boy needed in the pieces, whether they were plays, or dance.

Later she wanted me to take it a little bit more seriously, and she put me into a classical dance class. Then she saw Sri Pratap Pawar perform in London, and she was inspired, thinking it would be good if I would learn from a male dancer. So she sent me to him, and basically after that meeting, I have been doing Kathak ever since.

Contemporary dance happened much later when I went to University. My community is known, you might say it is a bit cliché, but most Indian people want their children to be a doctor, a law, an engineer or a computer wizard. For my part, I didn’t want to be any one of those.

I decided to do a degree to please my mother in one way, but also to satisfy myself. I decided to do it in dance. It happened to be contemporary dance. That’s where I discovered naked bodies and a whole world of different ways of expressing oneself. That was at twenty one, so really I started contemporary dance rather late.

Princz: Did you decide at the outset not to let go of traditional Indian dance, but to incorporate the elements in your work?

Khan: No. It was not a conscious decision, the body was doing it by itself. I didn’t consciously say that wanted to combine the two. The body was making the decisions on its own. When I did Khatak, my contemporary influence would come out in my Khatak, and when I did contemporary my Khatak would naturally be there. I can’t take ten years of my training away. So in my class I would always move very differently from the other contemporary dancers, because my body is informed with something very different. So both my classical and contemporary teachers were getting rather frustrated, so I decided in a way to investigate this frustration.

Princz: Many western choreographers are also looking to the organic work of non-Western cultures for inspiration, and adapting it to a Western aesthetic.

Khan: You know what is interesting is that I don’t think that Khatac is being adapted, but I think that it is happening organically. The first generation of Asians who came to London were intellectually trying to connect the two. But I have been born and brought up in London, so my influences are very different.

Even the way I present Khatac is very different, so I somehow feel like I have to say is more than just an interesting idea. When you think about where contemporary dance is going I think that it will be a connection of different cultures interacting with each other to express something quite unique. I think that this is what is happening to African dance. With Indian dance it has been tried many times before, but for many years it hasn’t quite been convincing.

Princz: There are, though, many cultures like in Russia for instance, where they simply don’t have the information, and the exchange is just stifled. And then you ask yourself the question if it really works the other way around. Does the Kathac master in India infuse a contemporary aesthetic in any way at all? So where is the exchange there?

Khan: What is happening is that it is my generation, people who are brought up in the West, who are saying something, and saying it convincingly. Sidi Larbi, who is a fantastic international choreographer brought up in Belgium of Flemish and Moroccan origin and influence. His work is fascinating through its Islamic, Arabian influence. It is fascinating since he uses the clash of cultures from his background, expressing what he has to say through these collisions.

There are others who are also making similar contributions in South Africa, and others who are making convincing work that is in a contemporary context but embalmed by their cultural background.

I hear what you say about the exchange, in that I suppose it is not happening in India. When I present my work in India, it is very different from lets say the Kathac there, it is very different because they don’t have the information of the contemporary aspect.

Princz: And what was the reaction in India?

Khan: Curiosity.

Princz: Did they recognize it?

Khan: It is different in London, and India. I think that it is a question of threat or insecurity. Now Indian communities who come out to Europe, we are the minority. And because they are the minority, they hold onto their culture much more strongly than in India.

In India itself, they are the majority where they are absolutely amazing at what they do, they do not feel threat about anything. Instead they feel curiosity. They don’t feel as if I’m trying to destroy their heritage at all.

Princz: The description of your work talks of, ‘Hindu Gods, black holes, Indian time cycles, five tables, creation and destruction » were the starting point for Kaash. How did these notions transform onto the stage? Is it possible that some of the subtleties are lost on Western audiences of all of these Gods, and rhythms that you describe?

Khan: When I research the work it is not important to me that the audience understand what I am researching, and I have nothing to say about that. I don’t have a statement to proclaim.

When I worked with Anish Kapoor, we did a lot of conceptual research at the beginning and came up with a very strong idea. Eventually when we went into the studio I wanted us to let go of that idea. When I show the idea in the end it is always second rate to what is in my head. The first idea that comes to you is always the strongest idea.

These black holes, these inspirations are what we fed ourselves, the information. Then we explored through improvisation, mathematical structures, breakdown of materials: physical things. I wanted to bring out those ideas physically, so in a way the work becomes narrative. It is not clearly narrative, not to the common eye, but there is a story underneath that.

I think it is similar in all of contemporary dance, it is not as clear as in classical dance where you know what happens from A to Z before you even go to see the show.

Princz: There was a moment of depth in Kaash where I felt what you speak about of interconnectivity of people- with the blue light where I felt as if you were going into a place of more depth, in contrast to the rest was a blur of surgically executed movements- but little content of greater interest. I felt as if you teased us with something really genuine and deep, and then you just backed off. What was this all about? I was left hungry!

Khan: The work is divided into three sections that are all based on Sheeva. Sheeva, in mythology, is the creator, preserver, and destroyer of the world. The first section is twenty minutes of onslaught- it is the preparation for war, which then goes into this purple blur.

The second is a very difficult section for me, one that we only touched upon it this time, but we’re going to touch upon it in more depth for the next piece. It is the philosophical aspect of the battle that you reflect on after it is over, more of a questioning of what you did and did not do. It is a more thought provoking aspect. The third is the re-creation, the re-birth of life again.

Princz: But why was this middle section left raw?

Khan: Well, probably because I haven’t found a satisfactory way to go deeper. It was much deeper and much longer, but I was not convinced. So I cut away a lot of it which was more conceptual and has more text, since I haven’t found my own way in which to express a conceptual idea. My work is very physical, and I think that is what excites people more.

Most work has gone towards the theater and dance. Suddenly they see a work that can see a language of movement without partner work…

Princz: What about artists like Emio Greco, and many other companies that rely on this kind of physicality. You seem to be avoiding something.

Khan: I am avoiding it. I am not convinced when people make conceptual work using text-based elements. Only sometimes am I convinced. I don’t want to touch it unless I know that there is something convincing in what we are saying. It is possible that we just touched upon the surface, but I didn’t want to go deeper in something and leave it the weaker part.

Princz: You have formed partnerships with some of today’s leasing contemporary figures. I’m thinking of Anish Kapoor and the likes. Why is it so important for you?

Khan: With Anish, the ideas that I was working with were in complete relation to what he does. I was exploring the concepts and ideas of physics, religion- and how they are directly developed. There is a strong sense in the physicists and philosophers that use Hindu mythology in their own work today: stories of Sheeva and Krishna.

I find the connection fascinating, and that is what I found interesting in the work of Anish Kapoor. The metaphysical illusion with reality, different kind of worlds- quantum universes existing with this one bigger universe. His work kind of says that, and I wanted to draw him in to have another dimension to the choreography.

Princz: Are you looking in the future to similar collaborations?

Khan: I am working with Annish again, collaboration is important for me. Collaboration is when the two artists meet, starting with the research, the talking period until the end, twenty-four-seven.

For this piece it didn’t quite work, he is so busy and famous- and we both agreed it wasn’t the kind of collaboration that was true. The next piece we will spend four months, and develop a kind of together sense of reality.

Princz: How do you, as a person from a Muslim background, deal with the current situation, the tensions between the Muslim and Western worlds?

Khan: I absorb the information, but I don’t show it in the work. Although maybe indirectly it seeps through, but I don’t hold it back, or intentionally avoid it. It is not something that I feel it necessary for me to say at this time of my life. This particular piece is based on Hindu mythology. The only time I did something Islamic was when I did a solo called Fix, which was based on a special art form. Khatac had historically collided with Suphi, so I wanted to show that aspect.

As a human being, though, it is very nerve wrecking. I am going to Moscow, and even as an American I have been given a hard time at the airports.

Princz: Does it give a different meaning to your audiences?

Khan: I think that the work goes above that. What is fascinating is that we performed in Israel, in Tel Aviv. The audience responded fantastically. That really convinced me that the work will always be stronger than whether I am Asian, Black, Christian or Muslim.

Princz: Life has been pretty fast paced in the past couple of years. Your star has been rising at an incredible pace.

Khan: It has been a roller coaster. It is extremely difficult, it has been high pressure. I went from doing solo-work, to being someone recognized as creating a new language of movement all over the world. It is something very difficult to deal with, and is a huge pressure.

Princz: Where are you in this process?

Khan: I am only in the beginning of this process. I do want to explore the text, the theatrical aspect more. Khatac has such a rich vocabulary and culture. At the moment I am exploring the mathematical, scientific and physical. I want to go more towards the narrative, text-based work.

Princz: You worked with Rosas, and choreographer Jonathan Burroughs, Sidi Larbi… Is there one experience that really got you going, that really inspired you?

Khan: I think that they have had great influence on my. But the more I make work, the less influence they have. I think that my earlier work, it had a lot of Jonathan, of Anna Theresa in it. The broader the work I make, the more of me it has. They have had a great influence, they were like starting points for me.

The first pieces were much more contemporary, and less Khatac. And I think that these roles are starting to reverse, with more Khatac, and less contemporary. I could just go and make another contemporary piece, but that is not what I want to do. I want to make something of mine, that is original to me, and that takes a lot of time.

I am working on another piece for 2004, that may be called Ma, or mother. Ma can mean many different things, like mother earth. This piece will take a lot more from the traditional Khatac. In this piece we had the vocabulary, and the next piece we will draw more from text based work.

Annamaria Lang: Following a passion for theatre. Photo Márton Ágh

With spitting passion

(Budapest) Annamaria Lang was just seventeen years old when she left her native Mateszalka, a settlent in northeastern Hungary, for the cultural capital of Budapest. She set off on a journey to pursue her passion: the theater. And when on stage, this actress pursues her craft with spitting passion. The young actress meandered into the world of leading independent theater director Arpad Schilling’s company, the Kretakor Theatre. She has since been immersed in this world: vividly living and breathing every moment on stage.

There, Lang is at ease, generously spewing emotion: be it an indifferent mother gone mad in The cold child; a primordial creature barren of not only her clothes but almost her humanity in W – Workers’ Circus; or a child tattering for love in Liliom. She is no character actress and her stage presence remains embedded in memory and minds.

Skirting the rigid system of the theater schools, Lang has become an integral component of Kretakor, a leading international proponent of contemporary theater that crosses borders with performances at numerous internationals stages and festivals. This despite an atmosphere in their native Hungary where their ‘independent’ status sometimes leaves them as a kind of ‘second hand’ citizen of the theater world.

Lang has performed in the numerous performances of Kretakor, including Liliom, Fatherland, Nexxt, the Cold Child and W – Workers Circus. We caught up with Annamaria at a Budapest coffee house, and talked shop.

ontheglobe.com: Your work with Schilling is really a full spectrum: from more traditional roles, humorous, to truly almost mad characters. And you seem to meander through these with ease…

Annamaria Lang: That is one of the things that is interesting in the work of Schilling is that he doesn’t have any one particular world or theatrical form of his own.

The process looks like this: in each production we have to solve a particular problem. The group then searches for a means of expressing the problematic. That is why the means of expression are always very different. When we want to speak of manipulation and the power of the media in our lives: we create a kind of television program to express the issue. Basically we start with the premise of a problem, and it’s the problem and our solution in solving it that determines what kind of world will exist around each piece.

In Woyzeck, for example, we are talking about the helplessness that some people suffer from in society. What is it that a person is incredibly poor and exists on the periphery of society? Why is it that some simply cannot find their way? In Hungary, this is a an important and real theme. When we were going through the creative process, homeless people suddenly appeared us. I am sure that we were sensitive about their presence at the time, but they then even came to see the show. When you go about doing this kind of performance you have to think about how these people live. After all, for us it is a matter of simply trying to convey a story. But for them it is not the same, it is everyday existence. Hundreds, thousands, tens of thousand or even hundreds of thousand of people are actually homeless. We had to confront why we tolerate this situation. Then maybe our audience will as well: can we do something about it? That is the ultimate question.

ontheglobe.com: This image of naked bodies in a barren sandy landscape with characters executing their own peculiar kinds of derogations in a very strange world. But how do works like Woyzeck come into being on a practical level?

Annamaria Lang: Woyzeck is a play by Buchner, who was a playwright who died very young and only wrote three plays, all of which are outstanding.

We went into recluse into an old abandoned military base near Komarom. There were eight of us and the director, and we worked in very rudimentary surroundings. It was an immense space that ended up being very inspiring. It was a totally abandoned setting with an almost catacomb-like system of roads and grottos. It was cold, dark and there was sand all over the place. In this setting we split up into small groups of two or three where we got our parts and were given a few hours to create something with these roles.

The goal was to associate the words with our character as opposed to merely being an exercise of memorizing words. This is how we started our research of how we were able to express ourselves: all that we had at our disposal was a persons’ naked body. We started playing with voice, making things difficult by trying to speak with sand in our mouths. We used stones and I ended up being tied up by ropes. We realized that when people are prohibited from speech, they use a far more concentrated language and develop the intense desire to say what they have to say.

ontheglobe.com: You recently performed the work « Fatherland », a review of the years since the systemic changes in Hungary. This work also toured to France, but at the same time I really don’t understand how you can transpose the work into another context. How did it get communicated there? How did people relate?

Annamaria Lang: « Fatherland » is really a specifically Hungarian story that talks about the thirteen years since the systemic changes here. In France both tours and the premiere were a great success. One of the reasons for this is the style of the piece and how it uses very simple tools. It is kind of a market, a circus, a clown-like world. In this sense, language is not the most important part. The story itself is not that complicated and uses really strong visuals.

Very often we also have discussions with the audience after the show. We talked about the problems, and got a very positive feedback. Many times we got comments that this is not only a Hungarian story but can also be looked at universally. Talking about the masses and politics or stereotypes about how politicians act. People have the same kinds of experiences of being treated like a flock of sheep elsewhere. Another example was that somebody mentioned was that it is not a specifically a Hungarian story: it is a little French or a little central European. Or a little bit about what they think of central Europe.

ontheglobe.com: But the performance had a very cynical message. When thinking of taking this piece to European or other audience, my gut reaction was: NO. It was a feeling that this is a simplified presentation talking about the ‘thick Hungarians’. As if the work lacked subtlety: its one thing to laugh at ourselves and to make use of irony, but basically my gut instinct was that I felt a real problem with the message.

Annamaria Lang: Many people get offended about the message of ‘stupid Hungarians’. At the same time for us to recognize and talk about what was also painful for us is important. Of course, nobody wants to be a stupid Hungarian. Personally, as Annamária Láng, I don’t feel like a stupid Hungarian either.

But when we see, for instance, that in Paris on a daily basis the French go onto the streets to protest, we realize a certain apathy in Hungary. In France they would have protests against the war in Iraq, or other reasons like wages, pensions or insurance. They protest in big crowds about these things that are important to their lives. In the meantime, in Hungary we read that the anti-war protests including some 34 people, of which twenty paraded with placards that read « Down with Medgyessy ». At that point, can’t we conclude that this is really close to stupidity. Are we really that different? Is it that much better to stay at home and to despise the system? So when I read this, and taking that even I don’t go into the streets: I can only conclude that, yes, we are really that stupid. It hurts, and is unfortunate, but we just have to think about it because it is not like this everywhere.

At the same time in « Fatherland » everything is stretched to its limit. That is the style of the performance: a kind of a clown-like reflection of the world. If somebody is stupid, then they are really stupid.

ontheglobe.com: But isn’t it really so simplified, that to describe a situation in a way that is such a molded reflection of reality: can’t you just say that it is a lie?

Annamaria Lang: Many did say things like that and there were times when I also felt that way. But at the same time it was a very successful show. It caused a lot of controversy, and it is a very good thing that company took the responsibility to talk about the changes of the past years. Especially in such a concrete, direct- if simplified- way. But at least we are talking about it. If you don’t get offended at the first moment with the representations of the ‘stupid’ Hungarians, which is not even totally a reflection because we are talking about stereotypes and exaggerations- then you really can take it as entertainment.

ontheglobe.com: This ‘official route’ – your pedigree – or basically where you went to school in theater seems prevalent and almost a necessity in theater circles in Hungary. It also seems, meanwhile, less important for Krétakör. I mean Schilling doesn’t emphasize what ‘school’ you came from before putting you on stage. Is this so?

Annamaria Lang: Yes, for Schilling is not important at all. For him there is no such a thing as a person being a really good actor only if they have gone through the system. They never even accepted me into theater school, I am basically self-taught. Having gone to theater school is not at all a prerequisite to get into the group and is really is of little consequence.

ontheglobe.com: But isn’t there a kind of snobbism about this in Hungary. The structure, the theater school, the institution still seems to act as a kind of a passport to work in the profession. A similar situation exists in dance. How does this context affect you and the cultural circles that you gravitate around?

Annamaria Lang: Our company is really very small and we are close so for us it is not even a question. Generally though, yes you can feel what you are talking about. I should emphasize that it exists less and less, but yes it does exist. The larger theaters do put an emphasis on what roles they give depending on your ‘pedigree’, and this depends on what kind of paper you have or what school you graduated from.

In general, though, these people don’t even know about us and don’t even come to our performances. They look to us as if we were a kind of amateur company. Yet we tour internationally more than most theaters in Hungary.

ontheglobe.com: And yet at one of the most progressive new theater festivals they have a file of Arpad Schilling in their country files, under « H » for Hungary. Nothing else. Yet at the same time Krétakör is a kind of ‘independent’ theater. Where is the line in the sand drawn? How is the theater Krétakör really defined in these terms? What does it mean, being ‘independent’?

Annamaria Lang: In the past decades the cultural politics in Hungary resulted in theaters that were centralized, under an influential ‘directorate’. The people in charge were intent on clearly seeing road-map of what theaters existed, and which companies were associated with each ‘brick building’. It was simple arithmetic.

There was really no exchange between the theaters and it became almost impossible for a group to come into existence outside of these structures. There was no tradition of simply finding talent and then supporting it: the structures were pretty rigid in this sense.

In the past few years Krétakör has become the contemporary theater company that tours the most, presenting its work internationally. In one sense, we are applauded for this: but on the other hand, we are still treated as a kind of outsider.

ontheglobe.com: At the same time I don’t completely understand the idea of Krétakör priding itself in being ‘independent’, and outside of the ‘brick-building structure’, and at the same time yesterday complaining that you don’t have a theater, and don’t get enough funding… Krétakör actually gets a great deal of funding, relatively. So how is it that he who prides himself on not having a theater, now complains about not having one!

Annamaria Lang: No, basically Schilling didn’t want to go and direct in a theater where for instance, the actors and structure are a given. He wanted to create his own company with its own philosophy and way of working. So basically, he- or we as a group- just didn’t want to come to be under the auspices of an existing theater and structure. We just wanted to work together. Whether we are talking about a specific space or not is irrelevant, it’s just that the concept of what we were working on had little to do with the theater structures that exist. In fact, there is no question of us not wanting a theater- in fact, that is the most important thing for us at this point.

ontheglobe.com: In the three pieces that I have seen you perform in, there is this incredible ease in changing the mood and emotions of your character. At one point you are childlike, at another, dead serious. All at the same time as a member of the audience, I feel as if it is not an actress that is in front of us- but you.

Annamaria Lang: That is very flattering, because they say the greatest result of an actor is if you can’t tell that the person is acting. I cannot say how this happens, because this is the work that I do.

ontheglobe.com: For example, in The Cold Child by Marius von Mayenburg, you have this incredible story of perturbed relations. Everybody goes crazy in the end.

Annamaria Lang: Everybody looks for happiness, and in the meantime they don’t find it, and they go crazy because they can’t stand it. It is a kind of emotionally apocalyptical work.

ontheglobe.com: In Lilliom too it seems like the characters find impossible relationships.

Annamaria Lang: Any good play deals with these kinds of moments of emotional crisis. For instance, we are working on a work by Anton Chekov, The Seagull. After reading it over, we all just realized that there are ten characters and all are deadly unhappy, yet none want to be. Everybody is looking for somebody else to receive something from, to rely on… but it just doesn’t work. But every really good play deals with this in some way or another.

Su-Mei Tse's "Echo" was awarded the prestigious 'Golden Lion’ award. Courtesy photo, Venice Biennale

Art dances with politics at the Venice Biennale

By Catherine Szacka

(Venice) It was parching heat and an almost unbearable humidity that invaded Venice this summer: but nothing could hold back the crème de la crème of the world’s artistic community at their bi-annual gathering in the enchanting and serene city of canals and gondolas. More than a simple artistic gathering, every two years the Venice Biennale literally brings together artists from over 60 countries in what has become the most important event for the contemporary arts.

It is a social, and even almost political pulpit for contemporary cultural dialogue. This year, with the Biennale celebrating its 50th year, organizers optimistically touted the event as the ‘Mecca of all exhibitions.’ However, notwithstanding the glitzy opening in June, this year critics remained reserved, and the feeling in Venice was that even with all the hype, they had been over-sold.

The Venice Biennale, the largest contemporary art exhibition in the world, officially opened its doors June 12, under the theme ‘Dreams and Conflicts: The Dictatorship of the Viewer.’ The current director of the biennale, Francesco Bonami, on the occasion of the 50th anniversary, looked to creativity to illustrate the absurdity of war, violence and discrimination. In a nutshell, it was a question of using creative forces to counter the folly of world conflicts, and using the Biennale as a symbol and potential catalyst for solutions.

All this, while maintaining a space for diversity, contradiction and a multiplicity of viewpoints. This lofty adventure turned out to have perils of its own. Many pseudo-diplomatic incidents and protests were the talk of the town, and there was even dissatisfaction on the part of their much touted ‘viewer’.

An important aspect of the exhibition is the garden of various national pavilions, a privileged space for those looking to get their messages across. With national pavilions, each state sought to make itself noticed, to be one up in the crowd, and perhaps even win the prestigious ‘Golden Lion’ award.

In total, some 60 countries were represented, some in the permanent garden area, with other ‘squatters’ in and around the most notable Venetian palaces.

This year, the most popular pavilions were: Great Britain with its gigantic paintings in the colors of the pan-African flag, by Chris Ofili; the United States with small stories of the struggles of black people in Venice, by Fred Wilson; Denmark with its impressive giant kaleidoscopes by Olafur Eliason; Canada with the canine film by Jana Sterbak, who made good use of the long lines to get in, to increase the popularity of the venue; and Luxembourg, which took the Golden Lion prize for the highly-colored films by Su-Mei Tse. These were only some of the pavilions, which in their own fashion, became the talk of the town.

The Hungarian pavilion, with the work of the Little Warsaw group, ended up causing a stir this year. In creating their piece, the artists ‘borrowed,’ while shooting a short film, the bust of Queen Nefertiti, sculpted some 3,300 years ago. Since the beginning of the century, the bust has been housed in the Egyptian Museum in Berlin. The bust was placed on a bronze body. The resulting artwork consisted of the official Hungarian presentation at Biennale.

This is where art became a question of national pride and controversy. The director of the museum in Berlin claimed that the resulting work of art was a contemporary homage to Queen Nefertiti, while officials in Cairo claimed that the whole affair seemed more like a calculated insult directed at Egyptian heritage and Islamic morals. Egyptian Minister of Culture Faruq Hosni went so far as to condemn the Hungarian artists, qualifying their antics as unethical, and called for action by the foreign affairs minister. This was where art and politics met, where a complex diplomatic row quickly became a grand publicity coup.

The artists of the Spanish pavilion opted for another tactic, that of selective viewer-ship. Artist Santiago Sierra undertook what some considered more of a statement than artistic representation. Sierra erected a brick wall at the entrance of the Spanish pavilion, and as a result, unless you had a Spanish passport in hand, it was impossible to visit this pavilion. As an overt position on the immigration policies of the government of Jose Marie Aznar and his good friend George W. Bush, Sierra’s installation and its statement did not go unnoticed.

While it didn’t take the coveted Golden Lion, the Israeli pavilion would likely have deserved a public appreciation prize, or even better, a prize for sportsman-like gestures. Artist Michal Rovner was apparently uncomfortable about representing her troubled country on her own at the Biennale. It was with modesty and openness that Rovner proposed to share the pavilion with a Palestinian artist. However, her attempts were aborted at the refusal of Palestinian authorities. Working alone, Rovner went on to create a video installation on issues surrounding mass culture, individuality, science and morality. The work ended up revealing tensions comprised by fundamental values, and conditions necessary to basic survival.

The Venice Biennale has, at times, also been known for even more radical protests, and even sometimes troubling or painful sacrifices in the name of art or statement. This year, Venezuelan artist Pedro Moral, who was officially designated to represent his nation, chose a silent protest in the face of the difficult political situation in his country. He chose not to participate at all. Ergo, the Venezuelan pavilion will remain closed until the end of the Biennale.

In the end, as with contemporary art in general, even if the message is communicated, it can very well remain misunderstood, lost in the mix of crowds and spectators. The 50th edition of the Venice Biennale presented over 300 works of art dispersed over a dozen venues throughout the city.

As per tradition at the Arsenale, an old Venetian factory converted into a giant gallery, an international exhibition was put up under the auspices of the director and the chief curator. This year, tradition was put aside, with Francesco Bonami opting for a slightly different choreography. Bonami chose a more democratic route, separating the exhibition into eight sections, appointing young, dynamic and avant-garde curators for each section.

A total 12 conservators were asked to present works dealing with issues of urgent concern to humanity. They included the clandestine, individual systems, urgent zones, structural crisis, contemporary Arab representation, altered daily existence and utopia. While the results of this experiment did show some interesting results, there seemed to be too many essential themes, too many individuals fighting in what seemed like total chaos. What was supposed to be the dictatorship of the spectator, ended up being, according to some, the tyranny of curators.

The Venice Biennale is, therefore, more than just artistic forays. It is also highly political. During these days of openings and speeches, the Biennale an immense social event with cocktails, rumors and invitations left and right. It is the place to be, with internationally renowned artists, journalists and stars from different walks of life. From Yoko Ono to David Rockefeller Jr., for those few glitzy days, the ‘in’ are called to Venice.

The normally calm and quiet city becomes an overpopulated river of an elegant, well-to-do, snazzy crowd that seems to wear a sign that says: ‘Have you seen me here?’ This begs the question as to whether it is for art or for glamour that this event has become over a half century, a magnet for the cultured masses.

After 50 years, the Venice Biennale is perhaps now at an important milestone to take stock. As Fiachra Gibbons of The Guardian wrote, this event is to art, what the Olympics are to sport. As the glorious epitome of competition in sport, the Biennale has also become associated with big money, media, national pride, and even questions of how this money is spent. This brings us back to the eternal, and perhaps effective question: What is the role of art in society? If in its early days the Biennale was to be a laboratory of artistic experimentation and a glimpse into the art of tomorrow, was Francesco Bonami perhaps over-enthusiastic in hoping that, this year, he could take art as a starting point and arrive at an interpretation of reality, the world, society and politics?

Elemér Balázs with young son. Photo courtesy Elemér Balázs.

Hungarian jazz on long road to mass appeal

By Nóra Lakos

(Budapest) In Hungary, only classical music enjoys several billion HUF in financial state support, while pop, rock, jazz and folk music must rely on the rather modest domestic market for their livelihood. At the same time, popular music in the broad sense constitutes some 20 percent of programming at Hungarian festivals abroad. In other words, it has become a flagship representative of Hungarian culture internationally. Despite this fact, the genre fails to enjoy due respect, in the financial and moral sense. During the past 40 years, artists playing jazz or high-end pop music have received little or no official recognition.

To illustrate the priorities of the state’s financial support programs, the National Cultural Fund (NKA), the only funding mechanism for musicians aside from Hungary’s Ministry of Culture, will spend HUF 300 million out of a total HUF 6 billion available to finance music this year alone. Of that amount, 15% is earmarked for popular music.

Should the state be financing popular music?
Incensed at their treatment, well known pop music personalities recently gathered and wrote a pointed letter to the Culture Ministry complaining that, as opposed to film, theater or literature, popular music is the only field which is supposed to support itself from the market even though, just like many other financed artistic genres, it cannot survive on the marketplace alone.

The signatories of the open letter cited many examples in European countries where state financing mechanisms are in place for the domestic and international popularization of popular music. In Finland, for instance, authorities recognized that in a country of five million, non-mainstream musical types are financially not viable, so they set up a transparent system for supporting classical, jazz and folk music from revenues of blank audiotape sales and broadcasting fees. This financial support enables artists to record albums, perform live domestically and internationally, and export their music.

Similarly, in the United Kingdom, the Artcouncil received GBP 2 billion from the government and the National Lottery, which it will gradually distribute through 2006 among different artistic fields. From this fund, the International Jazz Festival this year received GBP 100,000. This amount is expected to rise 10% by 20006.

In Hungary, protest by the musicians stirred up a media storm, but failed to elicit substantial results.

Jazz musicians did it
Hungarian Jazz has a bright future: Elemér Balázs with young son

In the meantime, a body consisting of leaders of the Hungarian Jazz Alliance and a number of outstanding domestic jazz musicians have been quietly negotiating for more than a year with the Culture Ministry with the hope of persuading the government to treat improvisational contemporary and jazz music in the same category as classical music, and to acknowledge it as an integral part of Hungarian culture. Last May, they put a voluminous proposal to the Culture Ministry which suggested the creation of a jazz center, the setting up of a fund separate from NKA for the support of improvisational contemporary and jazz music, and to proliferate jazz clubs.

In the music center, planned for downtown Budapest, hundreds of albums would be available for hearing free of charge as would a library of music publications. The music center would manage domestic jazz and improvisational contemporary music though Internet databases made up of hundreds of domestic musicians as well as international live performances and reviews.

« While we are internationally recognized, we are forced to perform at Hungarian festivals for one-quarter of the fee that international performers receive, » said Kornél Horváth, vice president of the Jazz Alliance who has been an active musician for some 30 years.

Horváth hopes that a website promoting domestic musicians would, in the long run, change the mentality which labels them music’s « second class citizens. » However, they need to make a living in the meantime, and musicians performing in domestic festivals have been granted some HUF 11 million by the Culture Ministry to supplement their fees this year.

The most important result of the yearlong negotiations, hinged on parliament approving its draft budget, is that the Culture Ministry will contribute HUF 30 million toward the creation and operation of jazz clubs throughout the country. So far, 20 clubs have indicated their intent to participate in the program, which would cover half of the cost of operation, while the clubs must provide the other half.

According to Horváth, this kind of club system can function as a base for domestic jazz music, providing an opportunity for musicians to showcase their talents and make jazz a competitor in the mainstream styles of today.

The world over, jazz enthusiasts number far less than pop or rock fans. In Hungary, jazz has had a peculiar career in recent times. During socialist times, it was associated with the illegal political opposition, which made it very popular. In recent years, since the collapse of communism, its audience base has wasted away and fewer jazz festivals have been organized. The presence of jazz in the media was also limited.

While in most European countries, there are jazz radio stations and television programs, Hungarian authorities several years ago rejected the frequency application of a Budapest jazz radio. Public television also airs no jazz programs. This may change, however, in the next few months as the programming director of Hungarian State Television (MTV) has promised to start airing a monthly jazz series at nights.

Skip dinner and buy the CD?
The only significant domestic record label distributing jazz is BMC Records, with 40 jazz titles in its 80-strong offering. The publishing house received some HUF 80 million from the national cultural fund to put out records this year, which covered 20% of costs, while BMC had to come up with the balance. Of the 80 titles, an annual 200 to 300 are sold in Hungary. The production costs of an album, depending on the number of musicians, ranges from HUF 2 million to HUF 8 million, and thus only two-to-three of the total number of CDs produced have recouped their investment. BMC Records, meanwhile, is present on the music markets in Western Europe and the Far East through its international distributors. Sales in France are significantly higher than in Hungary.

According to László Goz, head of BMC Records in Hungary, the lukewarm domestic atmosphere is not due to the lack of musical culture, since concerts are usually well attended. The recent BMC Music Flash festival with such performers as the Balázs Elemér Group, Gábor Gadó, The Dresch Quartet and Szakcsi Lakatos Trió enjoyed great success. However, the 800 visitors only purchased a total 12 albums, half of which was sold to one person who apparently fell in love with the label and its music.

« Concertgoers will invest that HUF 3,000 that a CD would cost in a dinner after the concert, » Goz explains.

« The entire music industry is struggling with the problem that young people, especially those under 25, download their music from the Internet or copy their CDs to each other, » he adds.

Initially, only pop music was proliferated en masse on the Internet, which, by now is home to the most divergent musical styles.

Goz says the new proliferation technology hurt music the most, since people continue to go to cinemas to watch movies and buy books to read, rather than squint at them on the computer screen. In contrast, music can be listened to anywhere, in any form, in the same sound quality.

Slick and savvy, Edvin Marton. Courtesy photo.

The many beats of violinist Edvin Marton, from classical to crossover

(Budapest) « I am a 21st century virtuoso, feeling the pulse of our times, » says Edvin Marton, who, in his twenties had already performed in many leading classical music venues around the world. Of Hungarian origin and born into a musical family, Marton could already be seen with a bow in his hands by the age of 3. « When I was born, my fate was pegged: in no uncertain terms, I would become a musician, » remembers Marton, formerly known by friends and neighbors as Lajos Csury.

He was born in an area of Ukraine largely inhabited by ethnic Hungarians, and he showed his precocious nature in music school at a young age, completing seven years of curricula in just three. By age 7, he was already playing Mozart violin concertos.

« At one point I literally sat on my violin, I was so fed up of practicing many hours each day, my poor father had to travel to the next village to buy me a new instrument, » remembers the now 30-year-old violinist, « The result of the incident was a three-day hiatus from practicing. »

Today he takes better care of his violin, playing a USD 3 million instrument made by famed violin craftsman Antonio Stradivari, and is protected by personal bodyguards. From a poor village boy, the young violinist traveled the world and studied in numerous countries.

Tchaikovsky Central Music School
The young Csury studied in Moscow at the Tchaikovsky Central Music School, where « even getting in was a career-making move. » This was an institution where famed violinists studied. The hallowed halls of tye Tchaikovsky was also where noted cellist and conductor Yuli Turovsky studies, before emigrating to Canada some 25 years ago from Moscow. It was Turovsky who ended up crossing paths with the violinist then known as Lajos Csury. The young violinist took part in an international festival at the Orford Arts Center outside Montreal, then under Turovsky’s artistic direction. He took first prize and recorded a CD with Turovsky’s chamber orchestra « I Musici de Montreal. »

« Lajos Csury had a very impressive technique and a beautiful sweet sound, but there was something very special in his playing reminding me of some older masters of the first half of the 20th century, » commented Turovsky, « There was nothing American in his playing, and yet there was almost nothing Russian either, although he studied in Moscow and New York for a number of years. »

Marton sees the logic in his training through its diversity. « The reason why it’s hard to trace is because in each of the schools that I studied, I learned a very different aspects of playing and performing. In Russia it was the disciplined technique and the tough education system.

In Budapest and Vienna, it was the Europeanization of the sound, which lightened my playing somewhat. And in New York, I could perfect my performing technique, stage presence and the elements of a « show » that eventually allowed me to develop my own style, » he explained.

Franz Liszt Music Academy
While professionally Moscow may have given him more rigorous training, Marton’s heart remained in Budapest. He returned to study at the Franz Liszt Music Academy, meeting the daughter of world-renowned Hungarian composer, Sándor Szokolay. He married Orsolya Szokolay, also a violinist, after six years of the couple recording CDs together, organizing and performing concerts as a dynamic creative team. « Our marriage was short, it lasted the whole of a week, » Marton remembers, recalling what was a difficult period in his life.

His search for a style of music of his own brought him far and wide, meanwhile. His studies in New York at the Juliard School of Music brought professional contacts which meant changes in his musical style. Here, in one of the most revered classical music environments of Juliard, he mingled with DJ’s and jumped from high level classical to what is referred today as crossover.

Still in his 20s, Marton had traveled to more than 30 countries, and played in such renowned concert halls as the Berliner Philharmonie and Vienna’s Koncerthaus. But he was looking for a change.

« As a classical performer, I played in some of Europe’s most important venues, » recalls Marton, « at the same time it was not my life-long ambition to perform in them yet another 20 times. I just wanted to go further, always dreaming of developing my own show that would be relevant to our times. »

In the process of developing this very style, one of the first « shows » he created consisted of him performing, naturally as a soloist and conductor, with some 20 beautiful model-like violinists in his own chamber orchestra, called « Pearls of Classics.”

« Lajos Csury had a very impressive technique and a beautiful sweet sound, » says Yuli Turovsky

« After he graduated from the music academy the talented, jovial and rotund Lajos disappeared, only to return as a slim, easy listening, music playing Edvin Marton, » explains a former classmate, « We don’t really understand why he changed, since wherever he went, he was loved and appreciated. »

According to Turovsky, Csury could not be constrained by the rigid and low-key lifestyle of classical music, since he was more keen on adventure and excitement, and changed his musical direction.

« He called me several times over the years from very exotic countries and described some quite fantastic plans he was working on, » said Turovsky, who remembered calls from Csury from several Middle Eastern adventures. « He possessed a vivid imagination, and whether all of the adventures that he later talked about were real or imaginary I cannot be absolutely sure, but he was genuinely so excited talking about them that it would even make me at times worried for him. »

Marton says that every composer or performer tries to work within the context of their own times, and not just perform the works of others. Straus played Bach, while Mozart developed different themes in his very own style and even composed his own works, he argues.

« I was always more interested in playing my own music, and this doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t play Mozart or Vivaldi, it’s just that today it is more exciting to perform these works with electronic sounds, since we live in the 21st century. If Mozart would be alive today, certainly he would also play this kind of music, » he added.

It was not easy to label these new and modern sounds. One reason is that the most important venue for broadcast contemporary music is radio, and today the most popular instrumental sounds is so-called « trance » or « techno. » Marton’s music is a long-term investment, and harder to introduce to a larger public. Few Hungarian labels are developing in this direction.

But Germany’s BMG label took the risk in 2001 and released the music of his new group, Strings ‘n’ beats, and launched it in numerous countries including Switzerland, Germany, the Netherlands and Hungary. It is no coincidence that the album was first released abroad, says Marton’s manager, György Zentai, since it is practically impossible to distribute Europe-wide from Hungary.

A classical or a popular musician?
Public reception of his CD in Hungary was mixed. While during his studies, a close-knit community of classical music circles followed Marton’s work, he was hardly known to the wider public, because he left the profession very early in his career. As to the popular music of Marton, he is only now becoming known to audiences.

The director of BMG Hungary, Margit Geszti, says Marton’s reputation and following is growing, a fact that can be seen through his record sales. Sales are far greater, she says, than those of other similar-styled CD’s, with Strings ‘n’ beats soon to go gold, signifying the sale of some 15,000 records.

While Marton’s the technique and classical music past are recognized and widely appreciated, many have more trouble with his nature and temperament. As the critics would say, during his days in the academy, he lived in a world enchanted by himself. The violin virtuoso certainly did not bathe in humility, and he refers to himself in the category of the « worlds best violinists, » who simply, « has no competition in Hungary. » While his success may be impressive in terms of sales, it seems Marton will find his place in the popular genre, leaving behind a successful classical music career. While the world’s No. 1 virtuoso may be an exaggeration, he may have a very bright future.

Balaton no longer just a place for sailing. Photo courtesy the Hungarian Tourism Authority.

Hungary’s lakeside get-away reveals more than splashy fun

(Lake Balaton) Hungary’s famed Lake Balaton has been undergoing significant transformations of late. While a decade ago, crowds of revelers and tourists thronged to what was termed the « Hungarian Sea, » today there is very different Balaton developing. From wine cellars to spas to attractions for those looking for a traditional country lifestyle, a new look for Balaton is on the horizon as specialized tourism is replacing simple sunbathing tourism.

If anyone at Lake Balaton knows about the region’s tourism business, it’s Loránd Mányai, who owns two restaurants, a wine cellar and one of the biggest hotels in Badacsony. In 1982, when he opened the Halászkert Étterem, a few dozen meters from the lake’s shore, Balaton tourism was a different business. Back then, East and West Germans divided by the Iron Curtain were Balaton’s best customers. They used the lake as a meeting point, since under Communism it was one of the few places for divided friends and families to meet.

But the large numbers of German tourists who once filled the terraces of restaurants and strands along the lake have been dwindling over the past few years, said Mányai. « When the borders opened, the whole rest of the world became our competition, » he said. To people used to the hoards of tourists that once filled Balaton during summer months, the lake is visibly emptier these days: streets are quieter and there seems to be more green space on strands. It wasn’t until 2001 that Balaton really started losing tourists to competing vacation spots, due to several reasons, says Mányai. The water level fell because of a few dry years, and the Hungarian press began writing negative articles implying Balaton had high prices, not enough water and deteriorating roads. German and Austrian media followed suit, and that’s when the big crowds disappeared, he says lugubriously.

Increasing internal tourism
Competition soon became the name of the game. A few changes for the better have surfaced out of Balaton’s difficulties in recent years, Mányai says optimistically. « The missing German tourists are being replaced by an increasing number of Hungarian tourists, and we have started concentrating on inland tourism. »

Higher-tier international tourists in the spa and specialty tourism sectors have also increased the profile of visitors targeted these days. The changing face of Balaton brings with it a new image for the lake. Balaton is no longer viewed as just a place for sailing and swimming, cheap beer and wine, fried fish and langos – although those things are all still available. But the towns, villages, national parks and countryside surrounding Balaton that are so rich in history, culture and nature, have shifted the focus. The spotlight is focusing on what the region has to offer aside from the lake – attracting tourists who want to do more than sunbathe on vacations.

Balaton landscape rich in attractions. Photo courtesy the Hungarian Tourism Authority.

More than just a lake
Just steps from Balaton’s 315 km of shoreline are dozens of museums, castles, palaces, a Benedictine abbey (Tihany), national parks, caves, wine cellars, first class restaurants and scenic rolling hills in one of the country’s best wine regions. In fact, it is entirely possible to spend a vacation at Balaton and never set foot in the lake – and not run out of things to do.

Spas, which are sprouting up throughout Hungary, are one option. Wellness tourism is on the rise throughout Hungary, and the Balaton region is no exception. Lake Héviz, which lies seven kilometers northwest of Balaton in the crater of an extinct volcano, is Europe’s largest thermal lake. With nearly a dozen spa hotels in the small town, it is the best known site for spa tourism in the region. The warm sulfurous waters in the creamy greenish lake, layered with pink water lilies, makes it a year-round tourist attraction, and a model that other towns are hoping to follow.

Siófok, the biggest town on Balaton’s flat, southern shore, has long been known for its nightlife and bustling summer discos. In fact, many foreign guidebooks recommend just using the town as a transit point.

Siófok used to have the reputation as a good-time party spot. But, like the rest of the tourism industry at Balaton, that image is changing. Earlier this month, the four-star Hotel Azur – with 222 rooms, spa facilities and the biggest conference facilities at Lake Balaton – opened in Siófok, seeking to capitalize on Balaton’s new image by taking advantage of thermal water that is said to spring from the ground at nearly every point in Hungary, and aiming toward a year-round conference and spa destination.

« The lake is just not enough to be the only thing to attract tourists, » said Sonja Seer, the hotel’s sales manager. « People like being treated well, and wellness is popular throughout the world. We have the opportunity to do that here with our thermal water. »

Equestrian traditions are a part of Hungary’s fabric.Photo Vanda Katona

Traditionally Hungarian
For the untrained eye, Zamárdi, about eight kilometers west of Siófok, isn’t much of a town. But just a short walk into the country from the lake is some of the most beautiful, unspoiled farmland in the area – rolling meadows of wildflowers, streams and small lakes, shepherds and their sheep, and groups of cattle and goats.

« It’s ideal land for exploring by horse, » says Endre Frank, which is why he opened his equestrian complex there. « This is the real Hungary, not what you see from the highway, » he said.

More than just a place to learn how to ride horses, Frank’s Kocsi Csárda and horse village also have a traditional Hungarian restaurant, 12, 19th-century-style cottages, each with a thatched roof and stable, a horse riding school and horse carriages to chauffer spectators into clearing in the woods where they are greeted with an equestrian performance, can listen to live gypsy music and eat gulyás cooked in a traditional bogrács over an open fire.

« The main idea behind this place is to show Hungarian culture and tradition to our guests, » said Frank, who was a novice in the horse business when he opened the place in 1990. « You can come here to learn how to ride, or you can go off on your own with your own horse. »

The place is popular with parents who want their children to learn Hungarian equestrian traditions: when they arrive they are given their own horse, which they learn how to ride, clean and care for throughout the stay.

Rock formations.

A step back in time
If the reconstructed Hungarian village at the Kocsi Csárda strives to look like an authentic old Hungarian village, then the Village of Salföld in the Balaton Uplands National Park on the northern shore of the lake is the real thing. Riding through the village in a horse carriage feels like a step back in time. Just 60 people, including eight children, live in Salföld, said Gábor Barcza, who lives in nearby Badacsony, as he pointed out various types of traditional folk architecture in the village.

Just outside Salföld, overlooking the lake, is a « stone sea » of dozens of flat rocks scattered along the hillside. The rocks were formed when Lake Balaton was part of the Pannonion Sea, through a combination of salt water, volcanic material, hot springs and sand.

Barcza works next to Salföld, at the national park’s Nature Preservation Manor, which keeps traditional Hungarian breeds of farm animals, like the black racka sheep with twisted horns, buffalo, mangalica pigs and long-haired Hungarian sheep dogs. The park also owns 400 of the famed Hungarian Gray cattle, once in danger of extinction. There are now more than 10,000 gray cows in Hungary, but back in 1975, only two herds remained, with a total 300 cows. Only a few of the gray cows are present at the manor at any given time, however, because « we rent them out to farms to eat the grass, » said Barcza.

The northern hills sloping up from Balaton – particularly around Badacsony and Balatonfüred – look like a patchwork of grapevines set among fields of lavender and chunks of limestone. The region has a long history of winemaking, and produces some of the best whites in the country. Unfortunately for the rest of the world, the best Hungarian wines are still kept for the domestic market, but many of the region’s best winemakers are eager to open their cellars to tourists for tours and tasting. With his bushy white hair in disarray, Mihály Figula, owner of the Fine Wine Winery in Balatonfüred, looks more like a stereotypical scientist than one of Hungary’s top wine makers. As he poured wine at a recent tasting – a total of 11 varieties accompanied by cheese and freshly baked pogacsa – he described each of them in detail, stopping every so often to savor a mouthful of his own delicious creations.

Less crowds at Balaton not a problem, says Mányai. Photo Vanda Katona

The wine-making cycle
Earlier, inside his state-of-the-art wine cellar, set among rows of neatly planted vineyards on a hill overlooking Balaton, he showed off his oak barrels full of aging wine, explaining his whole process of winemaking. From seeing where the grapes are grown, crushed and put into barrels, to tasting the finished product, Figula (Hungary’s wine maker of the year in 2000) led the group visiting his cellar throughout the entire life cycle of his award winning wines. He is one of the many Hungarian winemakers who has brought the passion for wine drinking back to Hungary, by concentrating on quality rather than quantity, and has helped popularize wine tourism.

Balaton’s very popularity and big summer crowds, ironically, used to be its main drawback. In the eyes of Balaton’s entrepreneurs, thinning crowds at Balaton are a problem. But for Balaton’s visitors, less people may not necessarily be a bad thing, and could make for a more pleasant vacation.

« Every region goes through hard times, and this is Balaton’s difficult time, » said Mányai. « But the lake and the surrounding areas will always be beautiful, and that’s why I think things will change in a good way. »

He is anticipating the return of summers when all of his restaurant tables and hotel beds were full. An airport will open next year in Sármellék, at the western end of Balaton, which will make the lake a short flight from Budapest, and a destination on the budget airline circuit, he said. Perhaps that will also once again bring a new image for Balaton. Despite all of the sights that lay off of the lake’s shores, the water itself will always be the main attraction for many.