Torjay Valter szimbolista festőművész honlapja

Thoughts of Valter Torjay

Thoughts about art (II.)

Please, let me be in peace with the impressionists! To tell the truth, their performance is respectable, but not unique at all. Even in its own era. Even if we look at the the Finnish, the Polish, the German, the British or Hungarian art (not even mentioned the Russian) any of them can present results and values that are equal to the French endeavours. Who dares to claim that Monet would have been a bigger artist for example than Mednyánszky? All of my respect to Maurice Denis, but was he more in his own symbolistic painting than the Polish Malczewski? Hardly. The strength of Schuch's art had hit upon me on the site only, but with Leibl or Marées I had the same experience. Would Courbet, Renoir have been bigger at these, or maybe Lautrec? I adore Cézanne as a human but I cannot declare this concerning all of his pictures. The situation is similar with Gauguin as well. Here you are the result of the well organized promotion! Rembrandt is really a wonderful artist, but Hals, Vermeer, Rubens, Van Dyck, indeed and more other contemporary Netherlands attains this level. And from this nobody will be less.

Till today I cannot lead off with one of Zoltán Kocsis statements when he writes about the fact that a certain Debussy piano piece starts with a typical Grieg ineptitude. All of my respect to Kocsis but has he any idea what is the difference between simpleness and ineptitude? And after all if he would have been right, please my God, give me just one percent of Grieg's ineptitude! I will be delighted.

I remember in my childhood, among my toy soldiers I had some, which were made of translucent plastic. I loved to turn them towards the light and just gazing at them.

When my grandfather painted the hills of Szombathely in winter then I saw first what means: painting. I stumbled beside him in the snow as a small child. I remember as the patches of the bluish-black crows, the purple shades, the bluish sky appeared on the white snow. He painted red speckles beside the black, it was the most beautiful one. The oil paint had other smell then, it was anchored in me for decades: basically it was the time I became a painter. Although a rare good man was my grandfather, not owed between the strongly religious souls: he left the piety for my grandma "Teruska", who I may not have known already. But not so long before my birth in the Thomas-church in Drezda he was praying for me becoming a painter. The wish came true only after his death unfortunately. With a lot of artistic studies behind my back I know it already there were few men for whom it was a pity not becoming a painter than him: we lost an István Csók with him at least.

I am not professional painter - I am a professional artist.

Really a small country may be ours because it is possible to face only a couple of names in all genres here. This occurred to me when I heard on the television, a young but recently pretty popularized pianist was playing on one of the channels. I switched it onto another channel: the same pianist, just with orchestra. Cannot somebody else play the piano? Poor György Cziffra had to emigrate because those few places were occupied by the people who had the better letter of recommendation. Of how many unfortunate pianist left hardly few documents behind... Fortunately, the fine artwork may outlive the master beyond. As if it sounds from an unknown lunar world Ferenc Herczeg would speak to us when he writes in his literary early years of his career. "The country was so rich, the society were with full of good persons so every young artist who had a spark of talent, or zeel to work, only he could find his own aims". Indeed… the poor József Egry with the support of Károly Lyka could publish his drawing as a child in an art journal, while Jenő Maticska with a similar fate, supported by Iványi Grűnwald, who could not know that the tuberculosis proved to be stronger.

A trendy artist from Budapest made a statement in an interview, that because of an esthete's comment he burned 60 of his picture's frame up. He wished to present this, as the sign of his aesthetic obsession and his self-sacrifice. The report did not concern to how many artists would have meant huge help, if they have got some of these "wasted frames". Here you are the double-faced Hungary.

Barbarity and decadence: this is the most dangeraous coctail which is conceivable. This is extremly dangerous.

Who did not become successful until his fourties, can give it up calmly. While he believes and works, others will be successful. There is nothing else to do, than to look for the reward in the work - but somebody else has written this already.

Do not ever entrust with the opening of your exhibition to somebody, who becomes drunken of his own sound and is unable to stop talk. Also abstain from the saltless dryasdust, who thinks that he keeps an academic inaugural. Both types are able to ruin even the best art exhibition. The latter one may be useful possibly in the case of a vocational opening, but arises infinitely rarely so.

It is necessary to avoid the collective exhibition, here not the best one, but the most stentorian artists can have success. If you are like this, I did not tell word.

If two painters meet, one start the description of his own brilliance and his financial successes promptly then. Instead of that he would ask: "From what do you think it would be possible to stir the best colour of the mallow-flower pink?"

If you teach somebody art, just praise him steadily and put aside anger, if he does not come sometimes for a lesson. Teach him how to see, the technique comes only secondly: if he knows what he wants, the technique will comes naturally. Let him be independent. (Most teachers make a mistake, that incessantly draws into the paintings and not only falsifies it with this, but brakes the pupil's self-confidence.) I helped a lot of people with this technique for the successful admission from a small teenager until the thirty-year-old one. It depends only on him how far he can go. Who is talented he is willing to do! Not inevitably the "handy man" becomes an artist: for example Cézanne was a fumbling-handed genius.

That, which one we will be our masterpieces, does not inevitably coincide with our preliminary imaginations. Rather the taste of the chance and the so-called authoritative personalities will define it - if they take notice of us once ever.

Are the Middle Ages dark? How our age looks like then?

I cannot help that I do not like to go to exhibition openings: or the "deep intellectuals" or the cheapo upstarts. Everybody courts the "important" people, devours, boozes, whispers improper gossips or runs away from you so as to not even say hello to you. I never felt myself so hopelessly lonely, as on these places.

Once the talent of artists and the audience's pleasure put the artists on a pedestal: it was healthy. Talentless artist may not have managed to get to the top even in the 19th century without difficulty. The situation changed in the 20th century, almost imperceptibly. At this time the media was growing to power started to force suitable "made greatnesses" on the people because of the expectations of the power circles. People who's task was the framing of the mass's consciousness. Today the tiniest power fellowship handles this technique perfectly, since the rewards and prizes are always wandering into the suitable pockets, by the expectations and the relation capital of course. Everything stays in the "family". It is the same in the fine arts: talent is needed for the positioning exclusively, since we will be successful by getting into the suitable circle anyway. A former and sudden run up pupil of mine could sing the old lyric of the Európa Kiadó: "I am glad that I'm allowed to be here because the gods are designed here well." Is it worth for the artist staying straight after these? In case he wants to be a star: no way, but if he wants to follow his own way and he has spiritual strength, then definitely. Most of the collegaues has the tragedy, that they stuck somewhere on the half-way. He sells himself but in spite of that he is not really successful.

The dislike of one key person is enough for cutting out somebody even from a whole county's cultural life.

It is trendy nowadays to query the earnestness of the art. In my opinion, the art can be cheerful but flippant not. Our ancestors knew this rule.

Vainly you are a kind of good artist nowadays, you will achieve nothing if an interest is not connected to you. Ensure them, and be associated!

Mocking reflects all the weird situations in art is not the most important thing for an artist. This is the largest sin of cynical creations being founded onto alienation and onto grotesque. Because the main task of the art since millennias - of the real art - was always to present those important and eternal values without the life cannot be desired. These always meant a criticism against the all-time inhumanity. In this way the artist filled the ancient, magician - healers' task, because he showed the egress way. This is mostly missing from the contemporary art, consequently we should not call it "art", according to my criteria at least.

Concert, if I remember well in London. One of the elitest German band plays with the collaboration of a cool, Japanese conductor. Afterward the audience could hear pieces from the Korean guest composers' new composition the Alice in wonderland. Unfortunately the snobbish celebration at the end of the performance did not convince me. Despite the nice vocal and orchestral work it was mostly unenjoyable. But this is irrelevant, I know.

Valter Torjay