Szentendre 1964

Curator: János Kmetty's "Szentendre," painted in 1964. It is a powerful oil painting. Editor: Its fractured composition projects a somber, almost fragmented reality. The colors feel muted, like a faded memory. Curator: Kmetty, associated with Hungarian modernism, employs a sophisticated cubist style. Notice how the buildings are deconstructed into geometric planes, the sky above as well, yet remains somehow cohesive? Editor: The figure walking toward us amplifies that fragmentation. His faceless anonymity turns him into a symbolic everyman, his cane a possible emblem of weariness, and the electric pole and wires in the back complete this sense of disruption. There is also a woman walking further in the background. Curator: I’d say the subtle color choices here are key. Kmetty uses earthy browns and muted blues to convey, not only a townscape but the interplay of light and shadow, to give form to the geometry. The brushstrokes are deliberately visible. Editor: Perhaps those earth tones connect us to a feeling of permanence even in the midst of all this urban fracturing? And those overhead wires, slicing through the scene—are those supposed to give us a symbol of modernity that only adds a melancholy note? Curator: That is one way to see it! However, look at the figure. In some ways it is a very conventionalized pose but rendered in blocks. See how Kmetty flattens and elongates simultaneously in that gesture? That gives the subject strength, perhaps to suggest perseverance. Editor: Perhaps. I see this as more of an unraveling; that strength, it feels tinged with something like regret or perhaps even disillusionment. It’s haunting. Curator: Indeed, there are layers here to peel away at, as is fitting for any successful artwork. Editor: Absolutely. This walk through the city’s painted puzzle has certainly been thought-provoking.