Hungarian Music School Residency

July 1, 2002

Favorite Books

Last great book I read:

‘The Sheltering Sky’ Nov 25, 2000

‘Keep the River to Your Right’ June 2001 in Hungary, Budapest.


‘Sun Also Rises’ Sept. 11 2001

‘A Year in Provence’ Nov. 2002

‘Book of Illusion’ Dec. 2002

In chronological order

The following was written on July 1, 2002


The music school, which was once a manor house belonging to Paloczi Horvath Adam.

Our works were inspired by music. We did our paintings at the Frence Janos Zenieskola (music school).

Every morning, a piano player plays music. At noon, he would go to draw portraits of tourist for money.

We heard these notes and waves of sound that would be incorporated into our artwork. I made a sculpture that look like a musical instrument. We try out composition on the black board lined for musical notation.

At night I would listen to Schubert’s piano pieces and “Death and the Maiden”. Memories are pressed between these notes and later released here at the lake.

The zenieskola has a rhythm of its own. At noon the trumpet player toots his horn. (Arias emanating from below my dormer window along with the morning bird calls.)

In the evening, the xylophone players practice his monotonous simple pieces that drove us crazy. Busloads of musician from Belfast play at the lakefront. Musical instrument transported in strange shaped and ominous color through the Iron Gate. Men came by in mopeds and bicycles. (The ever presence of owl hoots near the studio.) At night the warm winds rattle the thin tiles. Sometimes there would be silence that accompanies the setting sun against the Red Church.

I meet sz at the park near the lake. Later I vomited into the fountain.

The last day of the Zenieskola was a sad. Mel plays sad music on the piano while I pack the remains of my studio into a box. Everyone had left for Budapest except Mel, Miwako, and me. We moved from table to table at a restaurant on the lakefront. It started to rain. We headed in door. The patio’s umbrella squeaks. We moved again. Finally settle down to Vitamin salads. Most of the restaurants have a shortage of greens. It was hard to find a good salad. I try spaghetti Bolognese at many restaurants. The best was at Lucifer’s. On my Birthday, Daniel and I went there for diner. I was disappointed that no one else was coming to diner with us.

Daniel Atyim, Mel, Carrie (Mel’s friend), and I spent our last days on Margit Island riding a four-person bicycle in the park. The contraption looks like something that came out of “The Flintstones”. It has a bell. We ring it and wave to passers by.

English was his fourth language he often said. They were going to ride together to Tihany. It was my idea to rent the bikes and peddle to the Abbey. I decided against it. (Probably because Langelo was going to be there.) After awhile I try to avoid him.

Melissa and Carrie had their paintings published in “New American Paintings”. They are from the Midwest, Iowa.

My candle burns at both ends,

It will not last the night,

But ah, my foes, and ah, my friends –

It gives a lovely light

-Edna St. Vincent Millay quote found on august. 2, 2001

Dan lived in New Mexico. That’s where Joel Peter-Witken lives. Dan somehow met Joel’s brother, Jerome, who teaches at Syracuse University. Dan met with Jerome, showed him the portfolio and got into the school.

Dan and I sneaked up to the attic of the zenieskola. Dan found some thin slate pieces. Later he would go up to the hill to paint the landscapes.

July 10, 2001 – Zenieskola

Last night, the artist threw a surprise birthday party for me out in the balcony. Jenine gives me a goodnight kiss on the lips. Strange lights swirl about the sky. Fireworks exploded in the night. A few days ago the full moon reflected on Lake Balaton. We spent the day in Vesprem. Angela brought me a cake with a little mushroom on top. We climb the spiral stair, looked across the city of Vesprem. There are many ocher yellow walls. The church spires against the blue sky and voluminous white clouds. I began to make postcards and sending them to myself. A night of Amstel beer, several tequilas shoots. The shoots are measured in one skull to two-skull increment in the shoot glass. I made a drawing of the skull and globe. The sunset orange rays shooting up the church light glow. The Danube glows a satin ribbon like the delicate bridges that crossed the river. Masons lay cobblestones in spiral patterns. The farmers market full of people we walk though cemetery gates. (Twisted wrought iron on the stone.)A sculpture holds plastic flowers. Up on the attic yellow light falls on post and beams. Cobwebs dust rising from shuffle feet.

Cross-sections of windpipes throat valves. Men and women spoke in the language of the Oracle of Delphi.

2 Responses to “Hungarian Music School Residency”

  1. szechy bea Says:

    wonderful to find you…
    and read all the memories…
    come back to Budapest sometime!

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