"So very newly married," an aged parent used to say, with not a little touch of scorn in her tone, when looking at one wall of a room painted in a contrasting colour to the others. Over time we have adopted the phrase as our own, meanwhile taking great care to avoid this, and hopefully other, decorating downfalls.
As the years have passed, so we have extended the scope of the 'newly married' phrase beyond wall finishes, applying it with equal measure to matching curtains and cushions, colour co-ordinated bed linen, bathroom 'sets', which may well include loathsome lavatory seat covers, and almost anything from Marks and Spencer, Laura Ashley and the British Home Stores. We are not without opinion!!
the dining room showing chairs in variety, a collection of glasses and an assortment of china
Now in our 33rd Wedding Anniversary year, it would require some stretch of the imagination, if not to say entry into the realms of science fiction, to describe ourselves as 'newly married'. And yet, lurking in the deep recesses of the sideboard cupboards, are to be found our fully matching, flamboyantly floral, many pieced 'Floradora' dinner and tea services which might, we are alarmed to think, suggest otherwise.
the table set for a recent dinner party with 'Floradora' in evidence, but mixed if not matched
'Floradora' with its red and blue flowers, swags of foliage and gilded, scalloped edges has served us well over the years but change is in the air. It is for Herend, the porcelain of Hungary since 1828, that we are now, to borrow a Betjeman term, enthusing and mix, not match, is very much the order of the day. A start has been made with soup and dinner plates, appropriate enough, we feel, as soup is a delicious stalwart of most Hungarian lunches and dinners. Tiny, stylised deep pink flowers are the sole decoration on the otherwise plain white china with a delicate, basket-weave rim.
a glimpse of one of our Herend purchases - a 1920s soup plate with delicate flower pattern
Dating from the 1920s and purchased from our favourite Budapest antique shop they, like us, or so we trust, wear their age well. We think fondly of the dining tables which they will have graced with their simple elegance over the decades.
And so future dinner parties will take on a new look. More Darby and Joan than newly married, perhaps?
It was all somewhat surreal. But that was not the start. To begin with we had been invited to meet members of The Bard College Conservatory of Music at a dinner given at the home of Olivia and Lászlo Bitó whose celebrated 'salons' are, indeed, the pinnacle of Budapest society. What a wonderful evening it was, surrounded by such a plethora of young talent whose wide ranging interests, knowledge and enthusiasms were, and are, infectious.
complimentary tickets for The Bard Conservatory of Music concert - Sunday, 13th. January
And if friendships were to be cemented, then they were at a drinks party which we gave later in the same week prior to the opening of their Central European Tour.
Sabrina Tabby, centre, a Bard student in conversation at the Drinks Party held in our apartment
at the Drinks Party, a smiling Szilvia Mikó, pianist with The Bard Conservatory of Music
Alex Meyer, oboist, prepares to brave the cold of Budapest on leaving the Drinks Party
But we digress. For what was it that gave to last Sunday night that strange, always elusive, air of mystery and magic? Could it have been the softly falling snow lightening the darkening streets? Was it the concert hall itself, a building stripped bare, unfinished, work suspended? Or was it, most likely, the anticipation of a joyous occasion of the most wonderful music played by young people who, even in so short a time, could be counted as friends?
the unfinished, but most interesting, main concert hall of The Budapest Music Centre
our friend, Dávid Nagy, is captured in the porthole of the concert hall before the performance
Opening with a 'Quintet for piano and winds' by Mozart in which our most treasured friend, Dávid, playing the bassoon, excelled and where the highly individual Alex [oboe] and Renata [clarinet] gave most spirited performances, the pace never slackening, Mozart gave way to the second item, Schubert's 'String Trio in B-flat Major' which, not unexpectedly, proved to be an absolute delight.
ending the Mozart 'Quintet', from left to right Szilvia Mikó, Ferenc Farkas and Dávid Nagy
from left to right, Dávid Nagy, Alex Meyer, Ferenc Farkas, Renata Rakova and Szilvia Mikó
Thereafter followed an entirely new work by the young Bard composer Sunbin Kim entitled 'Two Mirrors'. This most exciting and complex piece, with its heightened discords and underlying melody, was superbly played with incredible assurance by Bitó scholar, Adrienn [flute], fourth year student, Sabrina [violin] and former pupil of Kveta Glasnakova, Rastislav [cello]. In this they were joined by Péter Bársony [viola] from the Franz Liszt Academy of Music in Budapest.
Sabrina Tabby and Péter Bársony seen at the conclusion of Sunbin Kim's 'Two Mirrors'
composer and Bard student, Sunbin Kim, pictured at work before the start of the concert
In conclusion Dohnáyni's 'Sextet in C Major' brought the concert to a triumphant and dramatic close where the verve, panache and exuberance of the players themselves became a very echo of the music itself. And although they are lost to us for the present they are not forgotten, nor will they be. For each has found a place in our hearts: the laconic Alex, the striking Renata, the charming and gifted Dávid, the self-effacing Ferenc, the highly accomplished Szilvia, the vivacious and prodigiously talented Sabrina, the studious Rastislav, the prize winning Noémi, and the cerebal composer Sunbin Kim. As they travel forward to Bratislava, Vienna, Brno and Prague, audiences in these cities can, we know, anticipate evenings of exceptional music making. Bravo to Bard!! For those who are interested, here Sabrina Tabby and Dávid Nagy play Mendelssohn's 'Piano Trio in D minor'.
This is a time to reflect. As the old year fades into precious memories, and the new is yet an "untravell'd world", we find ourselves on this winter's night in contemplative mood, our thoughts roaming back and forth over what has been and what lies ahead.
caught in the convex - Jane and Lance Hattatt with Carol Duke [photographer]
Most recently, of course, has been the joy of Christmas followed by the jollity of a New Year shared here in Budapest with friends from Germany. But before that, rather in the manner of the eponymous Alice, we found ourselves falling through the mirrored waters of Venice in late November to delight in all that that most seductive of cities has to offer.
mirrored in the Monaco Hotel, Venice by Carol Duke - Jane and Lance Hattatt
seen in the looking glasses of a Venetian shop - photograph by Carol Duke
Together with our very dear friend, Carol, we yet again stood in awe and wonder before the Tintoretto paintings in the Church of Santa Maria dell' Orto, wept for the eyes of Saint Lucy in the magnificence of the Capella Chapel of the Church of Santi Apostoli, traversed the Stations of the Cross as painted by a youthful Domenico Tiepolo in 1747 inside the mediaeval San Polo and then, some 150 years later, with the painterly eye of Carol, followed in the footsteps of Ruskin, revisiting 'The Stones' where once he himself had gone.
one of the 'Stations of the Cross' as painted by Domenico Tiepolo and photographed by Carol Duke
Another day, on the terrace of The Hotel Monaco - Grand Canal, we sipped coffee and watched the light playing on a rising lagoon, spied idle gondoliers at cards and then, a lone threesome, we danced amongst the mirrored halls upstairs of the old ridotto, Venice's first State-run gambling house.
one of the many mirrored halls to be found in the old ridotto upstairs in The Monaco Hotel
Once more in Budapest we delighted in the magical performance of 'Eugene Onegin' danced by the Hungarian National Ballet Company as part of a glittering evening, for a magnificent dinner came later, hosted by the most generous of friends, Marianne. Further trips to the Opera, dinner parties at home, with friends, in restaurants, a concert or two and, most naughtily, late night revelries in the bar of the Four Seasons Hotel with our darling and indomitable friend, Richard, finally brought the year to a close.
late night in the Four Seasons Hotel with friend Richard Adams and a selection of puddings
leaving a restaurant on a very wet night in December 2012 - Lance Hattatt with two friends
As for the present. And how privileged we are to have Dávid Nagy of the Bard Conservatory Orchestra of New York State as a friend for through him we have met such an exciting group of young musicians whose outstanding talent, combined with a liveliness and intelligence of mind, will ensure, without a shadow of doubt, the resounding success of their European Tour.
Dávid Nagy of the Bard Conservatory Orchestra in our Budapest drawing room this January
So, as the year begins to unfold, so the pages of the shiny, red-bound 2013 diary start to fill. There are Private Views listed, nights at the Opera booked, dinner parties arranged, concert tickets finalised, artists' studios to be explored, whilst beyond the borders of Hungary invitations wing in from Lucca, Milan, Rotterdam, Berlin, Munich and the sunny slopes of Provence.
Jane and Lance Hattatt seen stepping out into a new year photographed by Carol Duke
And for now a thought, no more than a whisper, for we hardly dare to breathe those most exciting and persuasive of words even to ourselves: The United States of America.
Jane at Lance Hattatt at home December 2012 [picture by Carol Duke]
We wish everyone both peace and joy this Christmastide. We apologise for our absence over recent weeks and would assure you all that we shall return to normal posting and commenting early in the New Year.
We should not consider ourselves, in the true sense of the word, to be collectors. Yes, of course, we can lay claim to a stamp collection dating from childhood, a coin collection inherited inadvertently from a parent, as well as a stack - call them a collection if you will - of 'World of Interiors' which, put simply, have been bought over many years and never discarded. But when it comes to Fabergé eggs, Meissen, Aubusson, Georgian silver and Queen Anne country houses, these have all, thus far, failed to materialise in any number.
looking upwards to the roof at Art Market Budapest on the evening of the VIP Private View
It was, therefore, with no particular thought in mind that we accepted an invitation to the VIP launch of 'Art Market 2012 Budapest' at the end of last week. Directed by a friend, Attila Ledényi, this exhibition seeks to promote in his words 'Emerging Stars of the Future' as represented by galleries from around the world.
representing the Várfok Gallery, Kristina Kovács stands beside the work of Ádám Hollós
And so it was that within this glittering firmament of talent our eyes alighted on one particular spot brightly shining outwards from the stand of our favourite Budapest gallery, 'Várfok'.
Ádám Hollós' 'Hermeneutika' has a directness, a force, even for us a brutality, which demands notice. Here in the drabness of the railway carriage, so representative of Eastern Europe and in particular of Hungary, a faltering democracy, a child draws in the wet and grime of the window. He is somehow unlikeable: a set, impassive face, a look of concentration, of introspection, does not endear him to us. Seated within the train, he draws a train. In time, perhaps, he will add to the graffiti on the carriage wall. Later, maybe, he will become the artist who paints the picture of a child in a carriage and, in so doing, will reinforce, again, the perpetual cycle of life.
'Hermeneutika' by Ádám Hollós - click to enlarge image if required
A close examination of the painting reveals powerful brush strokes whereby the paint runs downwards in streams of colour. In places, such as the boy's satchel, carelessly placed on the seat, there is a tactile quality whilst throughout the whole each layer, for this work is assuredly layered, the abstract comes into play. And then there remain the series of horizontal lines, each one signifying a plane at which what is seen recedes further, even into an unknown.
packed and ready for transport on the Várfok Gallery stand, Kristina telephones for a taxi
And should this interpretation be incorrect, then we care not at all. For on Thursday evening we had spotted a star, emptied the piggy bank, hailed a taxi and brought home the start of a new collection.
Forget the Fabergé, we say! Please note [16th. November, 2012]: We shall, for a week or so, be without internet connection. However, we will much look forward to catching up with all our friends and Followers in the near future.
Had one had the opportunity to enquire of Mr. Khrushchev or, later, Mr. Brezhnev, as to whether or not there were significant differences between East and West in the years, now long gone, before the collapse of the 'Iron Curtain', then one would have been foolish to anticipate any other answer than that the Soviet Union and its satellites, The Peace States, of which Hungary was but one, were superior in every way.
a colourful and entertaining game for the entire family - suitable for all ages
And could this superiority be better demonstrated than to take the example of a game happily played by contented comrades the length and breadth of The People's Republic of Hungary?
everything for an evening's enjoyable entertainment is to be found here
But let us digress for one moment, and place this within a context. 'Monopoly', the board game, is today known worldwide. In it participants, capitalists to a man and a woman, acquire property and money usually in direct competition with and at the expense of their fellow beings.
'Gazdálkodj Okosan!', the Hungarian version of the 1960s, differs only slightly in that there is no accumulation of wealth, no building of a personal fortune, but rather the unparalleled joy of furnishing one's State apartment with kitchen cupboards, the latest in the way of a vacuum cleaner [no 'Hoover' here] and sewing machine, and the crowning glory of a sitting room complete with a black and white television. Happy, happy families indeed!
all the pieces complete from the 1960s including the rules to be followed
Where 'Monopoly' relies on 'Chance' and 'Community Chest' cards, so the Hungarian game seeks to promote the better qualities of socialism where the players are not exhorted to 'Pay School Fees' but to 'Read books! Reading is a pleasant, useful and cheap entertainment'. Doubtless the government of the day could suggest which books!
a 'Community Chest' card which extols the benefits and pleasures of reading
We are reminded of all this when, a few evenings ago, friends Viktor and Zoli unearthed from the basement a splendid edition of the game in near perfect condition. And as we pushed our miniature workers around the board, we could not help but reflect on the changes of a lifetime.
P.S. We are grateful to Szabó Viktor for taking the photographs on our behalf, all of which may be enlarged at a click.
R pictured by Jane Hattatt at The Four Seasons Hotel, Budapest, on the night of 3rd. October
Wednesday, 3rd. October:
Armed with sheaves of white gladioli, somewhat in the manner of Dame Edna Everage, and with an equal touch of vulgarity, we arrive for drinks at R's wonderfully stylish and uniquely theatrical apartment where we consume much in the way of champagne, possibly more than is wise. Later our party progresses to Tom-George Restaurant in the shadow of the Basilica where, seated at the best of all tables, we enjoy more champagne and the most delicious of dinners. Pudding, R announces, is to be taken at The Four Seasons Hotel, which it is, but not before a serving of yet more champagne. Meanwhile, we are informed, one B will dance [is this to be taken literally?] through the bar for our amusement. B fails to put in an appearance. Do we even notice? The Metro has long since stopped running; we opt to walk home.
Friday, 5th. October:
N and A descend upon Budapest accompanied by huge quantities of luggage [we privately question the length of their stay]. Warnings about unscrupulous taxi drivers are ignored and so they travel from the airport at considerable cost. We dine out at M's where they are charmingly charmed by the intimacy of this bohemian bistro.
A and N pictured by Jane Hattatt at Modem, Debrecen, where N is photographing her
Saturday, 6th. October:
We entrain for Debrecen to arrive in time for a VIP luncheon [the food is rather dreadful] at Modem, the city's Contemporary Art Gallery, in advance of the Private View of 'Nightfall', an exhibition which runs until February before transferring to Prague. We are met and escorted upstairs by the Director, introduced to the Curator and several artists, and decline an invitation to be interviewed for television. Afterwards we indulge ourselves with a splendid afternoon tea at the iconic Ikon.
an interior view of Ikon, a leading restaurant in Debrecen, Hungary - we took tea outside
Sunday, 7th. October:
At the State Opera House we have tickets for a performance of 'Carmen'. But first N and A generously insist on champagne at the nearby Callas Café and Restaurant where, at a pavement table, we enjoy some early evening sun which, happily, breaks through the rain clouds. Afterwards dinner is at Klassz Étterem where our favourite waiter, Tibor, welcomes us with complimentary glasses of, yes, champagne and is endlessly patient with A who, knowledgeable of wine, commences a lengthy tasting. We leave long after the kitchen has closed.
the closing of a dance recently performed by R, our affectionately styled Mad Boy
Wednesday, 10th. October:
At home where we host a Birthday Dinner for 'Mad Boy' in celebration of his coming of age at twenty-one years. Wax from the lighted candles drips heedlessly onto the cake, rendering it largely inedible. The Hungarians are somewhat dismayed. We, British, in a display of fortitude, take up our cake forks with aplomb.
BRIGHTON
K is seen sporting patriotic shoes in accordance with his new found status as a British citizen
Saturday, 13th. October:
K and N, no longer our young Russian friends for they greet us flaunting British passports having, most recently, jumped through all imaginable hoops to achieve citizenship, come for lunch. It is the first occasion on which we have seen the eight month, infant Isabelle who is cocooned in the Rolls Royce of a 'baby buggy'. Where, we wonder, are the perambulators, nannies and walks in the park of our day? They bear gifts of bouquets of heavenly white flowers which positively, and perfectly, fill the flat.
iced 'Fondant Fancies' as enjoyed by us when taking tea with our much loved neighbour, S
Sunday, 14th. October:
To tea with our neighbour, S, who delights us with a plate of iced 'Fondant Fancies', last seen sometime around the 1950s. We eat rather too many of these sweet, 'melt in the mouth' little cakes. S has put out a 1960s dolls' house, complete with original furnishings, for her grandchildren and so we have a very jolly, retro afternoon.
This evening P and N collect us in their rather swish new motor car and whizz us off to Marroco's Restaurant on Hove seafront. There we are presented with the most generous gift of the entire recordings of Kathleen Ferrier together with her 'Letters and Diaries' as edited by Christopher Fifield. Perfect. Our own renderings of 'What is life to me without thee?' are eclipsed a million or more times.
Monday, 15th. October:
Tea at Metro Deco in Brighton's Kemp Town with N, P having to appear at work! The clientele rather Marks and Spencer but the cakes surprisingly good. We discuss Vatican II, Rome and the Papacy, and the local Co-op.
Food for Friends, a Brighton vegetarian restaurant where we dined twice in one week
Tuesday, 16th. October:
With E and S, both weighed down with the trials and tribulations associated with selling houses in Britain, for a pre-arranged dinner at Food for Friends, appropriately located next to the Friends' Meeting House in central Brighton. Excellent vegetarian food is enlivened further by the presence of our fun waitress, the effervescent Patsy, who is as entertaining as she is efficient. Too late for a train to Lewes, E and S depart in a taxi.
Wednesday, 17th. October:
V and M, lately returned from the South of France where they have a house, visit for the day. Inheritance tax preoccupies them, something about which, since we have no heirs, we care not a jot. In the evening we are again for dinner at Food for Friends but this time Patsy is not, alas, on; her replacement is duller than a shop girl from Tunbridge Wells. Oh well!
C, of whom we are most fond, who runs the café attached to the local bookshop in Kemp Town
Thursday, 18th. October:
Catch up with C who, when not in Bosnia, Croatia or Cambodia, runs the café in our local bookshop.
BUDAPEST
interior view of M's Restaurant, Budapest, with our favourite table waiting in readiness
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