Text: Lóránt Perényi

Bőrdíszmű-telephely, Sárvár, 1966, Fotó: Zsitva Tibor

I would start out with a story: in Egypt, where uncle Elemér with black suntan is hanging around in the shadow of a pyramid. To protect against the burning heat he had put on some piece of clothes and also a sort of frothy shirt. He exactly looked like the natives of the site, there is no doubt. As he is just hanging around there in the sea of tourists it strikes him that some people are talking in Hungarian. He takes advantage of the situation: he pussyfoots to the guide, and most probably is planning to crack a joke. He starts conversing with him in English. Here is an Arab colleague, a native Egyptian who is trying to talk to us! Soon he is surrounded by a small group and he starts to present himself as if he was a magician. Well, how strikingly interesting! What are his magical powers about? He must produce something now! Well, he says he is not really keen on boasting of this, but he can practically grasp and then fluently speak any language in the world after a few minutes’ meditation. Everyone burst out laughing at him. Of course, of course, why not, but let us see then how it works. Where are you from? Hungary. Where is that? Now we give this old guy a flash of a geography lesson. Then he turns in the direction of the pyramid, and starts to murmur something. All of a sudden he speaks his mother tongue, Hungarian fluently. Of course everyone’s jaw drops, but what is brashness in this – meaning he amuses himself, which is still okay –, that he takes the courage and after some sentences says goodbye and leaves them. Humour in his case is neither a way of escape from something nor a shield, but part of his job, and the present exhibition room also reflects this faithfully. All this comes from a kind of inner freedom which holds great fascination for me.