Szentendrei Skanzen [map] [website]
Szentendre
23km North of Budapest
A. When you can spend the whole day there.
Having been to the ethnographical museum in Városliget, I was well-prepared for a slow "death by folk culture", but thankfully, the Skanzen museum near Szentendre isn't the murderous type. It needn’t be regarded as a museum at all; rather a collection of historic, picturesque villages set against the Pilis hills. If you think you can combine it with a trip to Szentendre, you'd better be talking about the weekend rather than the afternoon.
At the entrance, now a faithful replica of the railway station in Mezőhegyes, a map gives you some idea of the scale of the site, which sprawls out over 60 hectares. As I stroll towards region VI, “Market Town In the Great Hungarian Plain”, which feels like the natural direction to walk in, the landscape unfolds. The sails of a windmill emerge over the ridge against a backdrop of green hills, while authentic thatched cottages appear further along the path.Many buildings are open to the public. The furnishings are quite literally at home, sidestepping the predicament of the conventional museum: i.e. how to present functional day-to-day items without harming your visitors' brain function. Nosing around authentic houses from the last three centuries left my senses pretty much intact.
Barns, shops, workshops, mills and a small farm are all teeming with activity, presenting numerous opportunities to observe, purchase or take part in a small piece of Hungarian village life. Hammering holes into pieces of leather with a blunt chisel is also a decent way to keep 10-year old children occupied.
The amount of time you spend at the Skanzen really depends on how much you like wandering around villages and whether you're aware of everything on offer. House-viewing fatigue does set in after a while, so a visit to the wine cellar or the inn might perk you up a bit.The Skanzen’s peaceful car-free environment is ideal for a picnic, which can be supplemented with produce from the local bakery. Granted: bread may be bread may be bread, but the Skanzen's bread hasn't been sitting in your bag all day.
The latest addition is a railway line that connects up five of the regions, complete with a 1930s railcar (which, this being Hungary, was still in regular service until 1989.) For 500Ft, and if you get your timing right, you can make the long walk back to the car park a breeze. Well, if breezes travel at 15km an hour, that is.
You can get to Szentendre in 40 minutes by HÉV (the suburban railway), leaving from Batthyány tér or Margit hid. The Skanzen is a further 20 minute bus journey from Szentendre station.
Andy Sz.
Buda, XXII, B150 from Kosztolányi Dezső tér
In recent years, you may have seen adverts for “Statue Park: Gigantic Monuments from the age of Communist Dictatorship.” You may even have ventured out to the back of beyond that is the 22nd district and followed the signs to “Szóbor Park”.
Now, some bright spark with an elementary understanding of English, and/or an awkward sense of irony, has renamed it... Memento Park!
Before we get bogged down in detail, let’s get a few things straight:
- The park, under whichever moniker, has a unique, truly remarkable collection of controversial treasure.
- At least two of the statues are gigantic.
- There are no rollercoasters.
- Whoever put this together did it without a great deal of money.
“This crude, monumental brick wall has all the characteristic elements of socialist realism (pillars, arches, wall spaces)”, announces the booklet that you can’t read yet because you haven’t got as far as the shop. This crude, monumental brick wall has, in fact, gone out of its way to look nothing like socialist realist architecture: a blatant concession to the “if it looks too realistic, there’ll be trouble” school of thought.I admit that it can’t have been easy designing The Park. It was 1993 when it opened, two years after the last Soviet soldier left Hungary. If anybody had dared or wanted to preserve the effect that the statues had when they littered the streets, they might have been lynched!
The red-brick theme pervades the whole park and does have the effect of undermining the statues' presence somewhat. The statues themselves are plentiful and varied, although the Lenin, Marx and Engels out there on the wall would really have helped to add a bit of familiarity, especially with the dearth of information on display.Just a few sentences for context; and maybe some 'then and now' photos of where the statues used to be located, would have really brought the park to life. If you don’t buy a booklet you’ll be completely stranded, although you won’t have to endure the justifications for the positioning of the statues, which are crassly employed as a metaphor for the path of communism.
(Csepel Iron and Metal Works, 1969, above.)
The recent additions that prompted the name change are largely welcome, if not life-changing. A couple of wooden huts outside give a bit of background on both the park and Hungary's violent past - essential for anyone who's just passing through. There's also a video about Commie spies which is worth at least 5 minutes of your time, if only for the ancient film footage they employ.
Then, outside on “Witness Square”, or “the car park” as it might otherwise be termed, are Stalin's boots, standing almost as they did back in 56, following their owner's 'be-body-ing'. The rostrum then was somewhat more ornate, and obviously didn't employ red brick.
All in all, Sculpture Park, as it will be renamed in 2012, is an achievement in conservation rather than presentation. Hopefully, by that stage, the organisers might consider a facelift. They could do worse than take a few pointers from Csepel Iron and Metal Works, 1969.
Andy Sz.
Pest South, IX
Millenniumi Kulturális Központ (T2,24), 1 min
Lágymányosi híd (HÉV), 1 min
Current Prices
There's something encouraging about arriving at an art museum and finding a tango class in the courtyard. I can't help smiling as they dance between the oddly-placed pillars. Already, the Ludwig museum feels refreshing, and happily, this is only the start of it.
In fact, this whole MŰPA/LUMÚ end of town really seems to be forging ahead in a welcome direction. It provides a new angle on the city and a reason to travel as far south as Lágymányosi híd, the southernmost of the city's bridges. Looking up the river from the top of a short but Babel-like tower, I can still see the statue on Gellert Hill, which proves that I'm in Budapest despite the alien surroundings.
The main building, the "Palace of Arts" is shared by art galleries, to the right, Concert Hall and Festival Theatre, to the left. Make sure you take a wander around: design is apparent throughout in ergonomic curves and thoughtful use of space.
The term 'modern art' is a little over-stretched, encompassing at least a century of vastly differing styles. (That anyone should take a dig at modern art as a whole is the kind of stupidity you can only admire.) The Ludwig's own collection embraces movements from the sixties to the end of the nineties. A couple of late Picassos mingle with Warhol's Single Elvis and the dynamic man-and-paint explosions of Hajas Tibor; to name but a few. The collection is usually confined to the third floor but sometimes breaks loose into the temporary galleries.
Temporary exhibitions are also focussed on contemporary art, usually but not exclusively with links to Central and Eastern Europe. In 2008, these include photography and installations from Bosnian-born Braco Dimitrijevic; environmental, conceptual works from Agnes Denes; a whole host of Fluxus artists; and Keith Haring's pop-graffiti. (Full schedule here.)
Leaving the museum with a head full of ideas, I turned back towards the little tower of Babel, noticing the door for the first time. The tower is bigger on the inside, the entrance starting about halfway up a spiral walkway. A host of little twilight rooms exhibit contemporary applied arts: from strange pottery to warped fashions. I couldn’t predict the next room’s contents if I tried.
It's surprises like this that complete the Ludwig museum: capturing the imagination rather than expecting the exhibits themselves to do all the work. Refreshing indeed.
The Palace of Arts/Ludwig Museum is by the Danube in the south part of Pest, right next to Lágymányosi híd. From the city, take either the number 2 tram, which runs along the Danube, or alternatively the HÉV from Boráros tér, one stop in a Csepel direction. From other parts of the city, the 24 and 1 tram are also an option.
LUMU, MŰVÉSZETEK PALOTÁJA, LUDWIG MÚZEUM MUZEUM
Andy Sz.
Dumtsa Jenő u, Szentendre [map]
18km North of Budapest
Take the HÉV suburban railway from Batthyány tér (M2)
In every major city in the world, you can see churches, art galleries and historical museums but it can be hard to find something that's truly individual. So the idea of a Marzipan Museum might seem quite refreshing. But stop! There’s a reason that the world isn’t littered with marzipan museums…
“Garden with pagoda”, 18kg, 98 hrs: looks like plastic tat. Vases, two of them, not dissimilar to something you’d find in a bargain bin in Poundstretcher, Dollar Tree or Grot.
They’re made from marzipan? I don’t believe it! But how did they manage to get that cheap look? And the paintings, they’re marzipan too? I was sure that was genuine felt tip. But what’s this? Russian dolls that look just like Russian dolls! Marzipan, you say? What, they’re actually made from marzipan? You’ve got to be kidding me!
Presumably, the function of the Marzipan Manufacture section is to demonstrate how these miracles are worked. For now though, we must be content with a part-constructed dinosaur and some pastry cutters. The next enclave is dedicated to plants: a veritable florist’s display of plastic-look pot plants, plus, inexplicably, one goggle-eyed dragon. Conversely, the second cabinet, “Cactuses, pre-historic animals”, seems somewhat devoid of the latter.
Upstairs, I’m overcome with a sense of enchantment at the fairytale wedding cake, fairytale carriage and portrait of the fairytale princess herself, the late Diana. She's sneering. Onward then to a celebration of Hungary: the magnificent parliament building takes centre stage, except that the detail isn’t really detailed enough to be impressive. There’s something about that chocolatey roof and the butter-icing colouring of the stone that, frankly, makes me feel nauseous.
Oh my God, it’s Michael Jackson! A larger-than-life Michael Jackson, circa 1994, with a fat head. It would be rather too flattering to assume that the melted effect was intentional. Likewise, Mozart’s violin looks anything but solid and I imagine the strange din it might produce. On a brighter note, a floral-patterned pillow does faithfully reproduce a stitched effect, and, if I were anywhere else, I would believe that the rack-railway steam engine was made of iron.
Throughout the visit, there’s no free marzipan, which seemed to me to be something of an oversight. Just a little taste, that’s all I ask. It might just have been enough to tempt me into buying some fantastic marzipan sweet sensation or other. In fact, I would recommend that you use the admission fee to do exactly that. Who started all this building stuff out of marzipan anyway? Just eat it. (Cue Michael.)
marcipan muzeum
Andy Sz.
Pest Centre, VI, Oktogon (M1, T4/6), 2 min
Recent Hungarian history doesn’t get a great deal of press, so a museum that really examines its brutal, fractured past has the potential to be of enormous value. The House of Terror, though, sounds more like a fairground ride. I wonder whether that’s just a translational blip or whether there’s some serious wrong-headed thinking afoot...
From the word go, imagery does most of the talking. In the entrance hall, two symbolic gravestones are dedicated to those who suffered at the hands of the Arrowcross (Hungarian fascists) and the AVH (Soviet secret police), both of whom used 60, Andrássy út as their headquarters. A little further in, a tank sits in a pool of water, surrounded by victims' faces. Then, in the first room of the exhibition, photographs of a forlorn Budapest flash before your eyes, as the city finds itself caught in the cross-fire of World War II. A specially composed soundtrack confirms that we're in Spielberg territory and therefore may not be getting the most balanced reading of history here.
Despite this, for the uninitiated there's a lot to glean about Hungary's past: the evaporation of much of her territory; the sense that history was under someone else's control; the replacement of one regime with another and with it the requirement to be a fascist one minute and a communist the next. Many of the issues facing modern Hungary can be traced back to these events.
Substance however comes a definite second to style. It’s no coincidence that Orwell’s 1984 springs to mind: there are flatscreen TVs everywhere, but only two carry English subtitles. As the museum unfolds along its predetermined route, the images just keep piling up, while the information never quite materialises. Certainly there are A4 pieces of paper that you can read along the way but they rarely reference the exhibits.
Design continues to outstrip appropriateness. The deliberately sluggish three-minute journey down to the basement, accompanied by the description of a hanging is presumably supposed to be touching. In reality it’s in pretty bad taste and, in a lift crammed with people, is close on ridiculous. Finally we arrive at the prison cells in the basement, which should make me feel something, since the brutality really happened here. But it's too late. Perhaps if I hadn’t known that they were reconstructed, perhaps if the rest of the museum had been a little more balanced, a little less slick...
The House of Terror has often been accused of being a politically motivated project, an attempt to discredit the Socialist party, having been commissioned by the old Fidesz government. Of course, others say that the Socialists would rather pretend that none of it ever happened. Where the truth lies is hard to say, but certainly, a wall of photos of victims of the AVH, followed by a wall of Communist Party members does seem a lot like finger-pointing and, as with the rest of the museum, doesn't do much for impartiality.
Walk up Andrássy út from Oktogon and the House of Terror is on the left after two blocks: a normal looking building painted entirely in pale blue and framed with the word TERROR.
Terrorhaza, Terror Háza, Terrorháza, Terrorhouse
Andy Sz.
Is there anything in Budapest you think we should have reviewed by now?
Mail us and we might just do it!
Andy.
................................................
