William Penn Life, 2008 (43. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
2008-01-01 / 1. szám
So, the whole shebang was my idea and I implemented it. It was a tremendous amount of work. The artists don't get paid for their work, it's all volunteer pretty much and the funds are all donated to United Way of Greater Cleveland. WPL: How long did it take you to create the guitar? KL: Once I had collected the funds, I had to actually decorate the guitar. I felt like I should already be done. It had been so much work. But little did I know, my real struggle was about to begin. I picked up a white 9-foot Fender Stratocaster guitar in March. The deadline was the end of April. WPL: What techniques did you use to create it? KL: My idea was to use a combination of various patternwork, decorative motifs that signify the multitude of regions and identities that make up Hungary, and actual photographs of the revolution, which were what really grabbed me early on. I thought the aesthetic combination of the painted patterns and the photos would be very nice. WPL: Why did you select particular images and words to include on the guitar? KL: The neck of the guitar is a kopjafa, which historically the tribal Magyarok used as grave markers. The various carving patterns all meant something, so someone could look at the kopjafa and tell a lot about the person buried there. Above that I have the white stag which led the tribes into the fertile valley they settled in. In this way it is a commemoration of the fallen; the cosmic white stag leading them home. It also harkens back to our roots, our primordial essence as a people, that we've never really lost throughout the many generations. As far as the images went, thankfully, my father had established a relationship with the Eric Lessing archives (he was a journalist who documented the revolution) and they very, very generously donated the use of 30 images for the guitar. I picked the ones that spoke to me, the ones that showed the humanness of those involved. I didn't want pictures that were posed, but rather, ones that showed how it really was—the glory, the happiness and the tragedies, the anger, then the defeat. I wanted to visually portray how a people are driven to stand up against all odds. The quote on the front is from President Kennedy. I researched when he said it and made sure I got what he actually said. These remarks are often misquoted and misdated. The writing on the back is my composition. I worked for weeks trying to get the words right, to have it say in as few words as possible all of the feelings and thoughts I was having while I was working on the project, as well as truly sum up to someone reading it what the guitar was about. Hungary. October 23,1956 The breaking point spontaneous, unorganized eruption from oppression. Many fought as one against tyranny, the Soviet Union. The world rang with Hungary's cry for freedom. Eyes were shut, freedom was crushed. Many thousands fled Artist Krisztina Lazar at work on the guitar in her studio. The flames of communism engulfed the nation Yet, like a phoenix rising the spirit of Hungary rose reborn in other lands. The refugees recreated Hungary in their hearts. They planted the seeds of love and respect for the land and culture And cultivated in their children a borderless Hungary. The soul of Hungary and the spirit of 1956 live and breath in the generations to come. This was from my persepective, not that of someone that lived through it, but rather, someone that grew up hearing about it, learning about, and someone that strives to keep the history alive for us to learn from. WPL: What was the most difficult aspect of this project? KL: The most difficult part. Ah, yes. I told the GuitarMania people at United Way that I was printing and coilaging photos on the guitar. They told me to use vinyl. I asked if they were sure, and they said yes. I wanted to speak to someone at Sherwin Williams—who was donating paint and clear coating the guitars and were the technical experts-but they said that their info was correct, and that was that. So I printed the photos on vinyl and glued them on with the proper adhesive, and, low and behold, the photos were peeling off during the premier weekend, Memorial Day. I was freaking out because I had followed what they had said, and they were wrong, and I was screwed. The guitar was ruined. After much unpleasantness, red tape and unnecessary blame, I was able to speak to the correct person at Sherwin Williams and the ball started rolling to get the guitar fixed. He was most kind and helpful. Basically, what I had to do was rip off the original photos, get them reprinted on adhesive-backed vinyl— which is what they use for decals and is super thin-and re-collage all of them. Then [I had to] repaint everything that got ruined from ripping the photos off. Needless to Continued on Page 20 William Penn Life, January 2008 7
