Bakos Katalin - Manicka Anna szerk.: Párbeszéd fekete-fehérben, Lengyel és magyar grafika 1918–1939 (MNG, Warszawa–Budapest, 2009)

I. PÁRBESZÉD FEKETE-FEHÉRBEN - Bakos Katalin, Anna Manicka: Valami történik közöttünk. Szubjektív előszó a Párbeszéd fekete-fehérben. Lengyel és magyar grafika

SOMETHING HAPPENS BETWEEN US

1 Subjective Introduction to the "Dialogue in Black and White", exhibition of Polish and Hungarian inter-war prints Anna Manicka: In my recollections of my latest visit to Budapest, I invariably see your room at the Hungarian Gallery with its arched window overlooking the floodlit Donau... The city's appearance is especially fine at dawn. Another unforgettable memory is that of one of the Budapest baths I used to visit to warm myself up in hot water... I wonder what memories you have of your visit to us here in Warsaw. The view from the museum window is very fine; you can see the escarpment of the river Vistula. Katalin Bakos: Your impression is of a large city panorama - mine is the sight of a grove; your windows look out on a park, an intimate milieu inviting contemplation, as opposed to the bustle of a large city. But only those looking out of the window can experience silence and quietude in Warsaw. Inside, in the department of prints and drawings I met with the opposite: I saw daring, upsetting works by contemporary artists and designs painted by artist friends on the walls "as a present". And the decoration made by the associates of the department about their own life is also on a par with an installation. In addition to being a sign of busy activity, this also reveals a major difference between our collections: the collection of drawings and prints at the Hungarian National Gallery closes with the end of the 1960s, the contemporary works being collected in a separate department. AM: While in Budapest, I also used to go to the opera house every night, spending a thousand forints on a seat in one of the highest boxes just below the roof. I remember the lottery at a ballet evening when I came close to winning a free yearly ticket... I once managed to get a seat in the stalls (by that time the usher could already recognize me) and I listened to Janácek's Jenufa. I was looking at the text running overhead, convinced that this was to make the arias clearer to the audiences. I suddenly realized I could understand a character singing "God, oh God!", which made me aware of the language the singers were performing in - not Hungarian but Czech... KB: I first heard Polish music in concerts in Budapest. Everyone heard of Chopin, of course. But as an enthusiastic young person, I also attended the packed auditorium of the Medical University to hear contemporary electronic music including Krzysztof Penderecki's works. Fine arts were decisive in my experiences of Warsaw from the beginning. I was never a simple sightseer. When I started work as an art historian, I curated an exhibition of young Hungarian artists in Szajna Studio gallery, and later I was invited for the International Poster Biennials in Warsaw. I have vivid memories of the Old Town, the beautiful parks (which we miss so much in Budapest), the Palace of Culture built by the Soviets and the drab housing estates similar to those in Hungary. Krisztina Jerger, my colleague at the Kunsthalle in Budapest, helped me with advice and lots of information. Her mother is Polish and she studied art history in Warsaw. Now she is deputy director of the Hungarian Cultural Institute in Warsaw. She introduced me to her friend Ela, the linguist Elżbieta Artowicz who learnt the Hungarian language for their friendship when they were still students. Today she is the head of the Department of Hungarian Studies at Warsaw Univesity. AM: Your language is indeed very difficult for the Poles - incidentally, not only them - because it's unlike any other. You even have your own way of saying "God, oh God". Is the Hungarian for "mama" also "mama"? KB: There are lots of words for mother, "anya" in Hungarian, too, just like in Polish, I guess. "Mama" also means grandmother in Hungarian; for me, "Mami", my father's mother, was a very important person. The sigh of yearning "istenem, istenem" (my God) does not sound like "boze moj", but it is uttered with just as much emotional charge as in Slavic languages. AM: Foreigners say that Polish is likewise very difficult to learn because of all these decleinsions and conjugations. But you couldn't have avoided studying Russian, could you? There was no