Csontó Lajos - Verba Andrea szerk.: Csontó Lajos: Munkák (PMMI kiadványai - Kiállítási katalógusok 16. Pest Megyei Múzeumok Igazgatósága, Szentendre, 2005)

2002

fölött mindig kék az ég és süt a nap - egy más világ vár: nagy, színes képek a barátságról, a szerepről és szerepvállalásról vagy annak hárításáról, az identitás átérzéséró'l és váltogatásáról; nagy, az életnagysághoz közeli felvételeket, technikai perfekcionizmussal, és finom utalásokkal az elmúlt negyven év koncept-, reklám- és úgynevezett képzőművészfényképezésének eredményeire. A blogos, story-artos utat a fényes-ironikus, inszcenált fotók sora zárja le, melyen a csúcs, a korona az Andy Warhol összefoltozott hasát megörökítő Richard Avedon-szériát is felidéző ..fríz", melyen Csontó barátai vesznek részt egy konceptuális-narratív hasfelmutatás szertartásában, némi önkéntelen tiszteletet adva egyebek mellett Helmut Newtonnak (Isten nyugosztalja!] is. E munkák nagy, találmánya, hogy Csontó biztonsággal és bravúrosan használja azt az ezeréves festészeti trükköt, amivel a Iszentlképek alkotói elérték, hogy ..modelljeik" folytonosan és szigorúan szemmel kövessék izgékony nézőjüket, mintegy ellenőrzést gyakoroljanak felettük. Csontó ezt a fotográfiában eddig nemigen látott eszközt szellemesen, józan humorral alkalmazza: figurái nem csak az ellenoldalt, tehát az életet, a nézők által képviselt valóságot figyelik, de mintha önmagukat is őszintébben helyeznék bele világtól elszakítottságukba; a szemek csillanása az aktivitás értelmére villan rá. Talán... Hajdú István WITH AND WITHOUT WORDS. WITH TEARS AND SMILE It is my longstanding belief that if we are unable to approach the major things, we should approach the small ones, and find consolation in this unblessed state in fiddling with them. It seems that Lajos Csontó thought the same when he organized his works created in recent years into an exhibition, and put them on display on the surprisingly well-built walls reaching up to the Hungarian sky in a slight spiral. A modest, grinding will must have been at work in Csontó, a discreet force by which he can annihilate the resistance of the spectator, who. ascending on the Guggenheim-like ramp of the exhibition space, is losing his good mood step by step due to the gray suggestions of the enigmatic groups of images and texts. No one knows anything, and perhaps that is not even necessary, there's no need for understanding, only for the atmosphere, which makes the spectator feet that he should make his way through the vapour of familiar concepts, except nothing is articulated, everything fades away, everything is so poetic. It indeed is, roughly on the level on which permanently moody btoggers in their late teens and early twenties suffer and wish to get away from the small world into an even smaller one. Although Csontos works are indeed - not affected, his black-and-white works are permeated by sadness, which covers the spectator like a warm drizzle, so that afterwards he is unable to take a look at the pictures land himself I without some kind of a universal accusation or intention at sharp self-criticism. Meanwhile, of course, the spectator has no idea why the pictures - which are the sizable blow-ups of Csontó's own small photos or images taken, that is, reproduced, from elsewhere - have such a depressing effect, since that is hidden from him. And stilt, the faded gray surfaces whisper mysterious words to one's soul, telling him that life is crap. However, on top of the spiral - because every cloud has a silver lining and there's sunshine above the clouds - another world awaits us: large colour pictures about friendship, the role, accepting a rote or declining it. identification with identity and changing it; large, nearly life-sized photos taken with technical perfectionism and subtle allusions to the conceptual, commercial and so-called artistic photography of the past forty years. The blog- and story-art-like journey is concluded by a series of shiny-ironic, staged photos, crowned by the "frieze" alluding to Richard Avedon's series about Andy Warhol's stitched-together belly, in which Csontó's friends participate in a conceptual-narrative ceremony of "showing the belly", as an involuntary homage to Helmut Newton (may he rest in peace), among others. The great invention of these works is that Csontó uses the thousand-year-old painting trick with a secure hand and a virtuoso way: the eye of the "models " constantly and strictly follows the fickle spectators, keeping them under control. Csontó uses this tool so far rarely seen in photography with a sober sense of humour: his figures not only observe the other side, that is, life, reality represented by the spectators, but it seems as if they were placing themselves into their separation from the world in a more honest way; the twinkle of the eyes flashes onto the purpose of activity. Perhaps...