“I attribute to photography the task of recording the real nature of things, their interior, their life.”
André Kertész
Zsolt Szabó’s photographic oeuvre is underpinned by a desire to capture meaning beyond what meets the eye and to explore detail. The artist soon discovered that this is the way in which he can best convey his message and his inner world. His black&white photographs arouse a powerful reaction, always drawing attention to the essence of things. Szabó (Pécs, 1980) pursued his studies at the University of Pécs and at Sorbonne University in Paris. He found his means of self-expression in analogue photography and regards the oeuvres of two masters of Hungarian origin, André Kertész and Brassaï, as his models. He holds Italian fine artists Giorgio de Chirico and Piero Manzoni in high esteem; their surrealistic vision and conceptual artistic approach was an important source of learning for him. Szabó’s objective is always to capture a passing moment and a unique visual world, through which he creates a special milieu and atmosphere for his pictures reflecting the cyclical nature of existence and the eternity therein.
His themes explore the relations between objects, the natural environment and human bodies as well as the emotions sparked off by them. Some of his photos convey sensual experiences too, at times through the representation of the lack of desired fulfilment. He is looking for temporal and spatial connections and at times helps different situations to engage with each other. He frequently shifts perspective to represent space, depth and distance. He thinks in terms of series, the elements of which are sometimes more and at other times less closely interlinked. He regards the symbolism in objects and bodies as important, even the symbolism of numbers, which is manifest in the number of elements he includes in his photographs or in their physical dimensions. He devotes special attention to the development and technical implementation of his photographs. He uses analogue film and manual techniques both in taking and processing his works. He often works with special and even vintage cameras or camera systems, which are often to do with the message he intends to convey and thus (can) help viewers to better understand his works. He does not insist on analogue techniques out of nostalgia or fear of defiance but to seek new experiences that are different from the more usual and ordinary digital solutions, as Canadian author David Sax writes in his The Revenge of Analog, an approach that clearly informs Szabó’s oeuvre and way of thinking. He often makes silver gelatine prints and at times opts for giclée, which resembles analogue prints the most closely out of the modern printmaking methods. He develops his pictures on high quality Baryte paper, through which he lends his works a unique touch. He always installs his works in an individual fashion free from superfluous detail, thus helping the observer to primarily focus on the photographic world that opens up through the images.
In his series titled The Shadow of Coincidence and The Light of Coincidence it is the accidental or intended alignment of lights and shadows that serves as the vehicle for expressing his feelings and thoughts about the special moments of life. The tension inherent in these pictures is created by the paradoxes of wholeness perceivable even through absence, while in his ensembles Nature Morte and Understatement he records beauty through transience and the moments of change in nature. He explores what lies beneath the visible, simultaneously depicting the fragments of the past and the captured moments of the present. Due to the universal truths expressed in his photographs, his series are rarely linked to specific places. However, location played a crucial role in his project Take Me to Paradise, photographed in the USA in 2018. The photos in the American series not only highlight the importance of remembrance and the fragility of life in general but are personal imprints of the terror attacks that took place in New York on 11 September 2001. The series contains 56 pictures, this number being a reference to the Hungarian immigrants who were persecuted in their native land during the revolution of 1956 as well as their hardships in their newly found home. The images distinguished by great sensitivity and focus on detail evoke the horrors of terrorism and remind us of the importance of not forgetting. The size of the developed prints – 19 x 19 cm – refers to the numbers of the tragic date. Szabó’s series titled Breath and Space prepared the way for his latest, now debuting project: Give Me a Soul. Filling a gaping void is only possible if the artist lends soul to objects through the medium of photography.
Creating something living out of what is lifeless is only possible through the sacred. When God breathed life into the first man, Adam, an inconceivable miracle took place. It was a gesture that is inimitable and unattainable for us, mortals. Yet, we have been given something that enables us to do something comparable. It is the mimetic power of art, which allows us to create something out of what is lifeless: the magic of giving things soul. Szabó’s 33-piece Give Me a Soul (2019-2021) describes this magic in the language of photography. The photos are each 6 x 6 cm, black&white and analogue, developed on Ilford Baryte paper. They were taken with a Hasselblad 500EL camera system, similar to the one that was used to capture the Moon Landing on 20 July 1969. These are pictures titled Luna I-II-III. pays tribute to this historic moment, with its surface textures imitating the surface of the Moon. The photos in this series are not square in shape and were taken with a special large-format Horseman L45 camera.
Presenting lifeless objects as living harks back to a long tradition in the history of art. For example, objects depicted in a still-life are filled with life the moment they are transformed into the subject of a painting or a photograph. Things used in everyday life are given a new function – come to life, are given soul – when placed at the focus of artworks. It is our fundamental need to make drawings, paintings and photographs to immortalise the human body, which is seen by us as the most familiar yet greatest miracle. Szabó’s depictions not only throw light on the visible body but also the invisible soul. He lends new meaning to found objects, which were, in a sense, labelled as useless and disposable. The mannequins featured in his photographs were previously used as exhibits in the István Türr Museum in Baja. They once imitated idealised and perfect bodies, primarily female but also male, sporting clothes impeccably. Now stripped of their clothes, their previously concealed frames come into focus in Szabó’s photographs, often resembling still-lifes. Mannequins, which are designed to be replicas of the human body, are presented here as fragile and perishable, worn away with time and deprived of their original perfection. Their surface is marred by the repeated fittings and staplings of the past and are like wounds on the human body. They might bring the suffering of Christ to the viewers’ mind, especially coupled with the inscription INRI (Iēsus Nazarēnus, Rēx Iūdaeōrum, i.e. Jesus the Nazarene, King of the Jews), which can be seen in one of the photos. This interpretation is also consolidated by the mystical number 33, i.e. the number of photographs in the series, which is a symbolic reference to “Christ’s age”.
Thanks to the constructive power of art, the flawed and discarded mannequins can appear – or even shine – again in their wholeness. The gesture of giving soul can thus be seen as an act of creation through the photographer’s eyes and lens. The intended or haphazard alignment of the objects, their light and shade effects and their perspectival representation jointly imbue life to the mannequins and the objects around them. So much so that the observer can virtually feel the contours of their bodies and the pores of their skin, as if they were real. At the same time, the elongated heads are reminiscent of Amedeo Modigliani’s paintings. The nude bodies also exude a powerful sexuality. The male and female intimacy equally contains the gentleness of stroking and the heated gestures of desire. The softness of lyricism and romanticism is manifest in loving touches and in one of the pictures counterpointed by the objectivity of a building’s electrical drawing.
In some photos in the series the mannequins wear clothes bearing the imprints of the past. The movements of the bodies and their postures are vivacious, while the contorted or disattached heads and limbs are a strong allusion to the vulnerability and transience of existence. The mannequins can often be seen through or together with (blurry) photographs and a peculiar visual world is created by the artist shifting the focus of the depth of field. The inclusion of photos in the photos makes a meta-level interpretation possible and provides the opportunity for viewers to imagine earlier life situations.
The bubble wrap used in the pictures has several meanings. As wrapping material for artworks the air inside the bubbles serves a primarily protective function. The bubble wrap Szabó used in the works weighs exactly 21 grams, which the artist verified with pharmacy scales. This number evokes the myth – which was substantiated by a scientific research result, according to which the body loses exactly 21 grams of its weight at the moment of death. This was given publicity through the research carried out by an American scientist, Dr Duncall McDaugall. However, Szabó does not want to verify the scientific authenticity of this theory but rather focuses on the symbolic interpretation of this myth and the possibility of giving soul to things. In this sense, the heads covered in bubble wrap in his photos are filled with air, moreover, with soul. The use of wrapping material is also evocative of Manzoni’s Avant-garde conceptual works. Made into the object of photography, plastic is simultaneously shown as a sacred object and as disposable, useless waste. The paradox between vitality and transience appearing together in the cycle of life is thus lent a wholeness and is given meaning. The myth of creation and passing symbolise the beginning and end of life, but there is always the chance of rebirth. All this is not only possible through the sacred act of God but also through art. It is this optimism and the gesture of giving soul to things that are at the heart of Zsolt Szabó’s Give Me a Soul and his entire photographic art.
Réka Fazakas
“La photographie a pour mission d’immortaliser la vraie nature, l’intérieur et la vie des choses.”
André Kertész
Dans son œuvre photographique, Zsolt Szabó vise à saisir la pensée derrière la vue, tout en montrant les détails. Il a tôt reconnu que c’était bien l’approche qui lui permettait de représenter son message aussi bien que son monde intérieur. Sa photographie noir et blanc, porteuse d’un effet puissant, oriente l’attention toujours vers le plus important. Szabó (Pécs, 1980) a fait ses études à l’Université de Pécs, puis à la Sorbonne de Paris. Il a trouvé un moyen possible de l’expression de soi dans la photographie argentique. Les œuvres d’André Kertész et de Brassaï, deux maîtres hongrois, représentent pour lui des modèles de référence. Il respecte beaucoup les artistes italiens Giorgio de Chirico et Piero Manzoni, dont il a appris une vue surréaliste du monde et une pensée artistique conceptuelle. Szabó a toujours cherché à immortaliser un moment éphémère encadré par une scène unique, ce qui prête à ses photos un milieu et une atmosphère particuliers, reflétant le cycle de l’existence dans sa perpétuité.
Il prend pour sujet les relations mutuelles des objets, de l’environnement naturel et des corps humains les uns par rapport aux autres, ainsi que l’exploration des émotions croisées entre ceux-ci. Ses photos affichent parfois des moments sensuels, dans certains cas exactement par l’insinuation d’un manque de l’accomplissement désiré. Il est à la recherche de constellations pour trouver les points temporels et spatiales de connexion, parfois intervenant à dessein pour produire cette coïncidence des situations diverses. Il varie souvent ses points de vue en perspective afin de faire percevoir les espaces, les profondeurs et les distances. Il pense en séries, dont les éléments sont plus ou moins étroitement liés entre eux. Le symbolique porté par les objets et les corps, voire par les chiffres, importe beaucoup pour lui. Le symbolique des chiffres s’exprime aussi par le nombre des éléments d’une photo ou par ses dimensions physiques. Szabó consacre une attention particulière à l’élaboration et à l’exécution technique de ses clichés. Il photographie en analogique en employant des techniques manuelles et pour la saisie, et pour le développement de ses photos. Il utilise souvent une caméra ou un système caméra unique, particulier, même rétro, souvent en fonction du message, qui peut (éventuellement) devenir une aide dans le déchiffrement du contenu. L’utilisation des techniques manuelles n’est pas motivée par « la nostalgie, la peur ou l’entêtement, mais par la recherche de nouvelles expériences, qui diffèrent de la forme numérique courante ». Bien que ce soient les lignes de l’écrivain canadien David Sax de son livre The Revenge of the Analogue (La vengeance de l’analogique), elles caractérisent aussi bien l’œuvre et la pensée de Szabó. Ce dernier capture ses photos souvent sur une pellicule argentique mais il choisit parfois la litho giclée, la technique la plus moderne ressemblant le plus à l’analogique. Il utilise du papier baryté, un papier haut de gamme, élevant ainsi encore la qualité de ses créations. Ses installation sont toujours uniques et simples, ainsi permettant aux récepteurs à concentrer leur attention premièrement sur le monde créé par les photographies.
Dans ses séries The Shadow of Coincidence (L’ombre du coïncidence) et The Light of Coincidence (La lumière du coïncidence), il retrouve dans une constellation accidentelle ou volontaire de l’ombre et de la lumière tout ce qu’il sent et pense des moments extraordinaires de l’existence. La tension des images est créée par les paradoxes de l’intégralité apparaissant même dans le manque. Dans ses ensembles d’œuvres Nature Morte et Understatement, l’artiste consigne l’esthétique de la fugacité et les moments saisis du changement de la nature. Il cherche le contenu derrière un monde de spectacle et affiche les fragments du mémoire avec les moments captés du présent. Ses séries sont rarement liées à des lieux spécifiques, ce qui lui permet de mieux exprimer ses vérités universelles. Le lieu a pourtant reçu un rôle particulier dans son projet Take me to Paradise, produit aux Etats-Unis en 2018. Dans ces clichés, il montre non seulement l’importance de la mémoire dans un sens général ou la fragilité de la vie, mais consigne aussi ses impressions personnelles par rapport à l’attaque terroriste du 11 septembre 2001 à New York. Le nombre des éléments de cette série composée de 56 images fait allusion aux hongrois persécutés et émigrées aux Etats-Unis en 1956, ainsi qu’à leurs difficultés vécues là-bas. Ces images de la mémoire évoquent avec délicatesse les horreurs du terrorisme et l’importance de ne jamais oublier, en mettant les détails au centre. Les dimensions des photos développées, 19 x 19 cm, font également référence aux chiffres du date tragique. Les séries intitulées Breath (Haleine) et Space (Espace) préparent la série la plus récente, Give Me a Soul, présentée ici pour la première fois. Un vide béant ne peut être comblé que si l’artiste donne âme aux objets par sa photographie.
Animer une chose inanimée n’est possible que par la voie sacrale. Quand lors de la création Dieu a soufflé l’âme dans le premier homme, Adam, un miracle inconcevable s’est produit. Pour nous, hommes, il est impossible de répéter ou d’accéder à ce geste. Nous avons pourtant un don, qui nous permet d’accomplir quelque chose de pareil. L’on peut dire que grâce au pouvoir mimétique de l’art, la création à partir de quelque chose d’inanimé, le miracle d’un transfert d’âme, devient possible. La série Give Me a Soul de Szabó, comprenant 33 éléments, créée entre 2019 et 2021, réécrit ce miracle par l’aide de la photographie. Les images ont été capturées sur une pellicule argentique noir et blanc, agrandies sur du papier baryté Ilford. Pour saisir les photos, Szabó a utilisé un système caméra Hasselblad 500EL, pareil à celui employé pour immortaliser l’atterrissage à la Lune le 20 juillet 1969. Des photos Luna I-II-III, rappelle ce moment ; les textures des superficies dessinées par l’agrandissement constituent les mimétismes de la surface lunaire. Pour créer les clichés non carrés, Szabó a travaillé avec un Horseman L45, un appareil spécifique de grand format.
L’histoire d’art est riche en la représentation d’objets inanimés en tant que choses animées. L’on peut faire valoir qu’un ensemble d’objets, représenté en forme de nature morte, se remplit de vie dès le moment de devenir le sujet d’une peinture ou d’une photographie. Dès que mis en saillie par une création artistique, les éléments quotidiens reçoivent une nouvelle fonction ; ce qui revient à dire qu’ils sont animés, qu’ils ont reçu une âme. C’est un besoin humain élémentaire que d’immortaliser le corps humain, le miracle le plus familier et pourtant le plus impressionnant pour nous, sur des dessins, des peintures, des photographies. La représentation du corps parle non seulement du corpus visible mais aussi de l’âme invisible. Szabó a découvert des objets auxquels il a conféré une nouvelle signification, des objets qui à certains égards étaient rebutés en tant qu’inutilisables, défectueux. Les objets d’exposition, auparavant utilisés comme mannequins dans le Musée István Türr de Baja, imitaient des corps idéalisés, tout d’abord féminins mais aussi masculins, parfaits à leurs temps, magnifiquement adaptés à présenter des vêtements. Maintenant, les photographies mettent en avant les cadres dénudés, auparavant invisibles, souvent présentés en forme de nature morte. Les mannequins fabriqués pour imiter les corps humains sont fragiles, éphémères ; ils se sont usés au cours du temps et ils ont perdu leur perfection. Les ajustements, les rivetages répétés ont lésé leurs surfaces, rendant les endommagements presque pareils aux lésions humaines. Leur vue peut évoquer les souffrances de Jésus-Christ, tout particulièrement en raison de l’acronyme INRI inscrit sur la croix. Cette interprétation est renforcée par le numéro mystique 33, le nombre des éléments de la série, une référence symbolique à l’âge du Christ.
Sous l’effet de la force constructive de l’art, les mannequins rejetés et défectueux deviennent capables de se montrer dans leur intégralité, voire de rayonner. Le geste de ce transfert d’âme peut même être compris en tant que création à travers l’œil et la lentille du photographe. Le résultat conjoint de la composition volontaire ou accidentelle des objets, de l’effet ombre-lumière et de la vue en perspective rend les mannequins vivants, ainsi que les autres objets présentés à leur côté. A tel point, que parfois l’on sent presque les contours du corps, les pores de la peau humaine, de manière comme s’il s’agissait vraiment d’êtres vivants. Les têtes allongées évoquent le mode de représentation d’Amedeo Modigliani. Les corps représentés dans leur nudité affichent de traits fortement sexuels. L’intimité féminine et masculine permet de découvrir aussi bien la tendresse d’une caresse, que les gestes intensifs du désir. La délicatesse du lyrisme et du romantisme s’exprime dans quelques touchers doux, contrecarrés par l’impartialité d’un schéma électrique d’un bâtiment.
Les mannequins portent parfois des pièces de vêtement, dépositaires des traces de la vie. Les mouvements des corps et leur port sont plein de vie, mais les têtes et les membres tordus ou séparés indiquent aussi la fragilité et la fugacité de l’existence. Nous apercevons les mannequins souvent à travers ou à côté de photographies (floues) : cela crée un spectacle et une impression particulières, produites par une alternance du mise au point par rapport à la profondeur et à la netteté employées. L’apparition des clichés photographiques sur les images permet une certaine méta-interprétation, en créant aussi la possibilité d’évoquer certaines situations de vie précédentes.
Le plastique à bulle apparaissant sur les images est porteur de multiples significations. Le matériau utilisé pour l’emballage des objets d’art, grâce à l’air vital qu’il enferme, possède une fonction protectrice. Le plastique représenté sur les œuvres pèse exactement 21 grammes, et cela à dessein ; Szabó a fait certifier le poids par pesage pharmaceutique. Cette valeur évoque le mythe et aussi le résultat d’une expérience scientifique, selon lequel le corps perdrait exactement autant, notamment 21 grammes, de sa masse. Cette présomption est liée au nom de l’américain Dr. Duncan McDaugall, dont l’expérience a popularisé cette idée. Szabó ne s’intéresse d’ailleurs pas à la certitude ou à la crédibilité scientifiques y relatives, seulement à l’interprétation symbolique découlant du mythe, ainsi qu’à l’éventualité d’un transfert d’âme. Les têtes emballées dans du plastique à bulle sont ainsi remplies d’air, voire d’âme. L’usage de matériau d’emballage évoque les œuvres avant-gardes conceptualistes de Manzoni. Le plastique, converti en objet photographique, devient à la fois un objet sacral et du déchet jetable, inutile. La dichotomie de la vitalité et de la fugacité dans le cycle de la vie devient ainsi complète, tout en gagnant du sens. Les mythes de la création et de la disparition symbolisent le début et la fin de la vie, mais l’on a toujours recours à une renaissance, ce qui est possible aussi par le moyen de l’art, non seulement par la voie sacrale. Cette vue du monde optimiste et cette éventualité du transfert d’âme caractérise donc la série Give Me a Soul et en général l’art photographique de Zsolt Szabó.
Réka Fazakas
Photo series in memory of 9/11 – September 2018
Just like the events of 9/11 have burnt into the retina of our eyes, so has Isparomar York’s lens captured the mementos of the terror attacks. The whole world remembers what happened in New York in 2001; thanks to our flash-memory, we even know what we did that day, where we were and how we tried to understand the incomprehensible. According to the Flashbulb Memory theory developed in 1977 by two American psychologists, Roger Brown and James Kulig, of which the tragedy of 9/11 provides a textbook example, we record surprising or emotionally shocking events of world history by not storing the details of the news that triggered our response but much rather our personal memories.
The horrors and personal imprints of the events of the terror attack burnt into the retina and memory of Isparomar York so profoundly that he was intent on going to New York to pay his respects and capture his memories from a special perspective. His memories of 2001, experienced from a vast distance from the place of the events, were thus coupled with a trip he took to New York in September 2008, during which he visited the emblematic locations of the city. It was his ’American Dream’. He wanted to show it through the lens of his Yashica Mat-124, making his flashbulb memories visible to all.
Isparomar York’s photographs infused with artistic sensitivity focus on the mementos of the 9/11 attacks that happened eighteen years ago. He revisits the tragedy from an individual angle: through the eye of a Hungarian, arriving from more than 4,000 miles away. His ambition was to evoke the events of 9/11, the American Dream, the ideal of liberty, the tragedy of John Lennon and all that America and New York means for us, Hungarians, and for him personally. All the 56 photographs of his series were shot on black and white film, using an analog camera and printed on custom-made 19 x 19 cm French Baryte paper. The numbers are symbolic: they allude to the date 9.11 and to the large number of Hungarians who fled from oppression in 1956. The method that was used to make the series emphasises the personal touch, intimacy and originality that are hallmarks of traditional photographic techniques.
Major changes have taken place since the first ‘wanderers’ settled in America or since the arrival of migrants fleeing the horrors of WWII II and then, in 1956, seeking asylum in the land of the free. However, something has stayed unchanged. Unlike Hungarians who were greeted by the sight of the Statue of Liberty as their boats approached Ellis Island, Hungarians arriving in New York today land in JFK International Airport in airplanes (paradoxically, the same vehicles used to implement the 9/11 attacks). Therefore, the first thing encountered by those who arrive in New York these days is not the eternal ideal of freedom but the sad results of aspirations aimed at limiting freedom and the American responses given to these. The line We will never forget 9/11 at JFK airport simultaneously refers to the past, the present and the future, as well as to traditions and the ideal of eternal renewal. This line conveys the importance of remembering, the power of moving on and people’s renewed faith in the future.
Isparomar York’s photographs are autonomous works individually, while combined into a series they tell a story. We could say that New York is shown from the perspective of the first Hungarian tourist – or migrant – to have stepped foot on American soil. Looking through the lens of his camera, the photographer discovers the sights of the city, its exhibiting artists and the memorials of the terror attack. Besides the pictures inspired by the works of Alberto Giacometti and Piero Manzoni, we can see snapshots taken of Broadway and other avenues, while, serving as a counterpoint, those of the demonstrators who have different interpretations of the terror attacks serve as a counterpoint. The title of the opening photograph ’Imagine’ shows the inscription found in the John Lennon Memorial Park next to the Dakota House and symbolically sends the message that nothing is impossible, suggesting to Isparomar York and everyone who is open-minded that we can conquer all obstacles. The series takes us on the voyage that led to the Statue of Liberty and the first moments experienced by the Pilgrims. Walking on the streets of New York we get to Broadway, the tower of the One World Trade Center being constructed, and the Ground Zero Memorial. As the perspective shifts we can see buildings viewed from the bottom or from above, and can perceive the depth, the heights, the spaces. The city’s symbolic buildings and emblems come alive through the photos, familiar to us even with their multiple meanings. The casual Apple logo, alluding to the city’s nickname, the Big Apple, a forgotten coffee cup and pedestrians rushing in the street all capture typical New York moments, and show us the city that never sleeps. The unceasing bustle of the city was maybe only stopped once: on 11 September 2001, and New York has stopped to remember it every year since then. One of the pictures alludes to a political aspect of the terror attacks: we can see the broadcast of CBS Evening News on a TV screen along with a report about Afghanistan. The blurred image brings to mind the DDay photographs of Robert Capa, who was born in Hungary. Isparomar York’s pictures of Broadway draw attention to the downside of American reality, the contradictions produced by the multi-faceted city of New York. These pictures marked by profound empathy and understanding allow us glimpses into the destitute situation and difficult circumstances of some of the New Yorkers – after all this is also part of the Big Apple.
The photos evoking the terror attacks are infused with sensitivity and focusing on some details they bring into focus the horrors of 9/11 and the importance of remembering. The memorial next to a grandiose waterfall bears the subtle inscriptions of names capturing the moving moments of mourning and tribute. The last picture that concludes the pictorial journey of remembrance is titled ’Exit’, a word serving as a kind of release, which marks the end of something but also standing as a passage, a gateway to new opportunities. It is an image filled with hope since people on both ends of the camera – the photographer and the viewer – equally have the chance to return.
Hungarians who arrived in America (as well as other tourists and migrants), the Land of Opportunities, at any time were led here by the ideal of freedom and this will probably never change. This optimism is reflected by Isparomar York’s photographs, anticipating not only his return but also conveying the seeds of starting anew, whatever the odds.
Réka Fazakas
Magyar
