Sneaking up to the Castle

Gimnázium Utca

Of course you may take the foenicular up the incline to the Castle District.  Or you may take the well trod, fairly populated stairway that will lead you to the center of this part of Buda.  Or you could simply exit the HEV at Batthyany Ter and, after grabbing a cappucino or ginger bread latte at The Coyote, meander up the stairway at Gimnázium Utca and enjoy a leisurely hike up the hill and enter The Castle District in a more private manner.  

  As my friend Bill said, "I always feel like I'm getting away with something when I walk up this way."  Taking this route indeed imparts a feeling of sneaking up, trespassing,  treading upon an antiquated path of pilgrimage.  

  The neighborhood through which he stairway cuts is an aged, posh, yet comfortably worn sliver of Buda in which some of the most beautiful and inviting homes reside. The area reminds me of certain sections of San Francisco...I imagine thoughtful people within the homes, sipping small cups of strong Turkish coffee, reading books of poetry or the novels of Krudy Gyula.  It is more likely, however, that the denizens of these houses are watching the drama and hysterics of the televised Hungarian talent show, X-Factor.

The stairway eventually leads out of the neighborhood and into a sort of middle ground, a small meadow area.  The last time I was up there, I ran across yet another lonely, muttering, old philospher, shuffling precious papers, organizing life on his own personal planet.  At first I thought he was a statue, perched randomly along the path, until I came upon his solitude and saw that he actually moved.  He was completely unaware of me as he fussed and fiddled.

  The stealthy Castle stairway eventually leads you into the district behind the unattractive and completely out of place Hilton hotel.  Fortunately, you can avoid looking at it much since the view before you will be Austro-Hungarian era buildings and cobblestone streets, fairly free of traffic. If your destination is the Fisherman's Bastion, for panoramic views of the city, you will stroll past several tile roof churches like St. Mátyás' Cathedral, still wearing a bit of scaffolding due to the years and years of repair the church has undergone.

The Fisherman's bastion marks a sort of center in the Castle District, although it is not the only one.  A majestic statue of St. Stephen commands the small square and an intimate wine bar and restaurant is situated within the bastion itself, offering diners and drinkers a lovely perch from which to view Pest and the river flowing below.  As is common in Budapest, many people are moved to romantic extremes before such views...I caught this couple, entwined in one of the Bastion's recesses, giving in to their passion as the night fell and the moon rose. A fitting conclusion to a sexy walk above the city. x

Lazy Post-Thanksgiving Post or Pulkya, Hair Straightening, and The Boomtown Rats

We enjoyed two lovely Thanksgiving dinners last week with dear friends, Hungarian, South African, British and American. Below is a list of highlights.

THURSDAY:

 

Cooking and baking for five hours straight and loving it.  The results were mouthwatering.

The family Pálinkás' delightful yogurt/cherry dessert.

Pálinkás Réka crawling back and forth between me and her mother, the lovely Julia, to receive bites of mashed potato.

Pálinkás Dani, clutching his little blue bear (kék mocsi), calling Aidan's stuffed alien dog "PULKYA"(turkey)

 Sweet Jáno, bearing lovely gifts, silent, but grinning his schoolboy grin the whole time.

Pálinkás Péter, declaring my pumpkin pie the only one he will ever eat and love.

FRIDAY

Meeting Jaci Török, Hungarian via South Africa.  Megawatt smile, soothing voice made for storytelling.

Andrew Hornett strumming his guitar.

Watching young CETP teachers straightening their hair with a contraption I've never seen.  Fascinating!

Singing "I Don't Like Mondays" by the Boomtown Rats with the whole crowd.

Pétér, declaring once again that my pumpkin pie is his favorite.

Receiving a jar of aromatic strawberry/kiwi tea from the dearest Bill Robb.

Watching my boy Aidan play DJ with Cassie's ( our delightful hostess) music collection

Talking with Anna Banhegyi about her doctorate thesis on East German western films...you had no idea, did you?

Running to the HEV stop with Boone, Aidan, and Pétér in the fresh, wet snow, barely making the last train.

Three helpings later....Bill, Andrew, an Scott

Urania and The Illusionist via The Anilogue Film Fest

The Urania National Theatre, Rakoczi ut. 21

Today, you all get two reviews for the price of one.

  Last night, Boone, Aidan, Victor, Gabor and I met in Pest at the Urania National Theatre to view Sylvain Chomet's latest animation piece, "The Illusionist".  Both the theatre and the film were a treat for the eyes, heart, and soul.

  The Urania looks humble enough from the street. The facade offers a hint of the lavish and elegant Moorish/Art Deco design within. We arrived last night just a rain was turning to snow, the moment was a piece of fleeting and delicious anticipation...

 For inside the doors, as we scanned the room for our friends, my boys and I were met with the rich blue and gold interior foyer, walls adorned with gorgeous Islamic symmetry, seductively lit, and abuzz with the voices of film lovers from all over the world.

  Once inside, you really feel as if you are treating yourself to something very special indeed. Victor pointed out that the vibe of the place is similar to our beloved, old Crystal Theatre back in Missoula. Indeed, he was correct.  The denizens of the Urania, including us, of course, were similar to those who frequented The Crystal...bohemians, hipsters, humble art lovers of all ages.

  The Urania is truly a Hungarian national treasure and any visitor to Budapest should make a point of seeing a movie there.  The theatre features films that defy Hollywood formula and stereotype which makes it especially attractive to film buffs.

inside the theatre proper, where art lovers gather to savor  creativity

  With about fifteen minutes to spare, our little group wandered around the theatre, taking in the mood, enjoying the beauty.  The theatre boasts two concession stands, one upstairs, one down in the basement.  Coffee, soft drinks, beer and small snackables can be enjoyed here...this might remind Portland friends of the wonderful McMenamin's establishments.  The Urania has been doing it for years previous.

  After grabbing some water and chips, we headed into the screening hall, balconies surrounding, and located our assigned seats.  Within ten minutes, the curtian lifted...the screen showed about two minutes of Anilogue Film Festival information then went straight to the feature.  No agonizing trailers or relentless advertisment.

  Sylvain Chomet is a a French animator and film director.  He became fairly well known stateside for his delightful feature "The Triplets of Belleville",  a moving story of pain (physical and spiritual), perserverence, and good versus evil.  The main characters are humble, poor, dear, and an example of what is lost to society at large due to poverty and over-indulgence.

  "The Illusionist", much different that "Triplets", deals with similar themes.  Like "Triplets", there is very little dialogue, for in these films such a thing is not needed.  The movements and expressions of the characters, as well as the gorgeous imagery, say much more than words could ever do.

  The story takes place in Scotland, mostly Edinburgh, at the end of the fifties, beginning of the sixties.  An aging magician travels from France to the UK with his endearing but increasingly dated performance, complete with chubby, snapping rabbit and sleight of hand props.  He lands in Scotland at a small highland pub where a young girl becomes fascinated with him, believing that he is truly able to conjure magic.  When he leaves for Edinburgh, the girl stows away to follow him, and they end up together in an old hotel, where he basically cares for her (and she for him) among a crew of sweet but sad and washed up vaudevillians. 

  Throughout the story, it is clear that the girl continues to be convinced that the magician simply conjures up whatever they need, whatever she wants.  She is an endearing innocent, who truly loves the fatherly old man, and he does his best to preserve that innocence, through whatever means necessary.

  It soon becomes apparent that the illusion of their friendship, of what the girl feels is real, must fall away due to inevitable change.  He watches this change unfold, worldy-wise as he is. Even as she experiences the change, she seems to pass through it, unaware of what is happening. 

  Gabor offered the perfect word to describe the ending of this film, and really, the mood of the entire piece..."Bittersweet."

  Not only is "The Illusionist" a wonderful story, whose original screenplay was written by the venerable French comic, Jaques Tati (and who the character of the magician is based), the animation is rich, emotional, evocative, absolutely gorgeous.  The scenes in Edinburgh fairly tug at the heart for their beauty (Gabor said the depiction is quite accurate).  The final scenes in a particular...a book left in a moonlit room, the shadow of its pages,  ruffled by the wind,  printed upon a wall, white rabbits hopping contentedly atop a green cliff with Edinburgh in the background, the girl and her new friend, shielding themselves from the oncoming rain with the beautiful coat the magician has given her, walking against a crowd of umbrellas....are the ones I will carry in my memory for years to come.

  Do treat yourself to "The Illusionist".  In this day of soulless computer animation. films like this provide the perfect tonic to the formulaic, predictable, thoughtless tripe that Hollywood continues to regurgitate. x

 

SuperGranny

This post is devoted to creativity and how it can not only bring joy to our loved ones but also to the creative world in general.
  The link to the blog which featured these delightful photos, entitled "Mamika", does a beautiful job of  relating the back story leading up to the photo session.  I will just say this...Frederika is indeed a super woman and her dignity and beautiful complexity shine throughout this series.  Please, you owe it to yourself to click the link and enjoy! x
www.mymodernmet.com/profiles/blogs/grandmas-superhero-therapy-18

Soundtrack of Life

basilica beats

"That echoed voice lied to me with its 'hold on, hold on, hold on hold on"...  Neko Case sings 'em, I take them to heart.  These lyrics belong to a song that is part of my precious inner soundtrack, the music I brought along to Budapest, which continues to shape the way I perceive this city.  

  The following is my mixed tape of songs that have been with me, heart and soul, as I continue to get around here in among the blocks and beyond  .... a current top twenty.

She Cries Your Name- Beth Orton

Seaweed-the Gits

Super Stupid-Funkadelic

Portland, Oregon-Jack Black and Loretta Lynn

I'll Keep On Holding On-The Action

Madonna of The Wasps-Robyn Hitchcock

Now I Wonder Why-The Church

Keep The Streets Empty For Me-Fever Ray

Shake Some Action-The Flamin' Groovies

Janelle Monae-Cold War

Daniel Johnston-Held The Hand

For Real-Okkervil River

Smokin' Daddy-Freakwater

Honeychild, What Can I Do-Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan

Rise Up With Fists-Jenny Lewis With The Watson Twins

The Rover-Led  Zeppelin

Goddess on a Highway-Mercury Rev

It's A Fire-Portishead

Calvary Cross-Richard and Linda Thompson

Don't Let The Sun Go Down on Your Grievances-Daniel Johnston

Budapest Grotesques

Szechenyi Fűrdő

Somewhere between the animation aesthetic of Robert Crumb and Chuck Jones lies the art of Marcus Goldson.  His work depicts with absurd glee the people, lives, and loves of Budapest.

  So much of the appeal lies not necessarily in the skill of his work, although Goldson's skill is more than ample.  This artist has a keen eye for detail, the kind of detail that sets the quirks of this city apart from any other European capitol.  And while this city is thoroughly European, it is also distinctly Hungarian,

naturally, and Goldson, while sketching out these peculiarities with an obvious adoration of Budapest, holds nothing back in his depictions.  Consider the picture above.... not only is this man much too massive for his tiny banana hammock, but he has also made sure that he will not run out of that ubiquitous Hungarian brew, Dreher. The spirit of this piece rings absolutely true to a certain slice of Budapest culture, and it is depicted with such perfect, loving humor.

Anyone who frequently patronizes public transportation in BP has definitely seen a version or two of the three grande dames depicted above.  There is a sort of over the top elegance that many of the communist generation possess.  One sees these ladies and suddenly realizes where Zsa Zsa Gabor comes from!  These three remind me of a vivid, aged version of the Three Fates.

 So much is going on in the picture above...obviously.  But this pic is chock full of commentary as well.  Beginning with the bottom left hand corner....this piece is apparently supposed to be presented from the view of the guy lighting up. Smoking is a given in Budapest. Better get used to it.  Some public places offer separate smoking sections and even fewer forbid it altogether, but, smoking is seemingly a national past time.  I think the people, in general, are so intense they need a cig every now and then just to calm their minds down, to be able to focus.

  The smoker has on his table the ever present blackberryish device which says in the window SZIA..."szia" is a casual way of saying either hello or goodbye to friends.  It is used when cooing at cute animals as well.  Cosmo hears it all the time.

  Dogs (kutyak)  are ever present in Budapest...there are about 400,000 of them in a city of a million and a half.  Many of them seem to be incredibly street wise, particularly those who cruise the streets of Pest off-leash.  The kutya in this pic is on a leash and happily wagging his/her tail as he/she cruises along with the human, elegantly dressed in boots, of course, and a clever hat.

 Hungarians are not subtle...they speak their minds in words and actions, as this older lady, clutching a bag printed with the essential faux animal skin, is demonstrating.  Her wine bottle, headed for the drunk who has been marinating in Dreher and has not yet completed the process, barely misses it's mark but sends a painfully clear message....don't fuck with me, sonny.  Her dog appears to be floating like a balloon above a Turkish shopkeeper as the couple in the balcony glare at the action below.

  Flesh is out and proud in BP, regardless of physical shape or condition.  I like that...and the woman shopkeeper in the picture is letting it all hang out.  Got boobs?  Flaunt them, by god, even if your back has boobs too!

   Check out the irreverent art of Marcus Goldson at his website...his talents are not limited to BP alone.  He creates wonderful city scapes and pictorals from all over the world.  Szia! x       http://www.marcusgoldson.co.uk/

Down Around Batthyany Ter and Back up The Castle

street art intrigue, Batthyany Ter

I was down at Batthyany Ter the other evening...nothing unusual about this, I'm there quite often.  BT is the main public transportation hub in Buda, the other being Moskva Ter, on the other side of the castle.  My cousin and his wife are in town and as we took the sneaky stair path from BT up to the castle, we were inspired to snap some photos in and around the ter (square).  Here are mine....have a look. x

golden home, first flight

looking down from a flight or two upstairs

 old man, carefully sorting papers of some kind, looking like a sculpture, halfway up 

rosy dusk, up in the castle