István Szőnyi

István Szőnyi

Roofs in Zebegény

circa 1930

     Orange chalk. Powdery, fine, light and dryly-scented. It dusts the parked and cornered roofs in small, discreet mounds, hissing and shifting with low, late evening winds, though remaining seemingly flat to the naked eye. Cypress trees, sage in their study of the ever-evolving sights, sway to a tune of their own, with both ease and aged grace. Thunder, far off beyond the sleeping rocks, ripples nearer like waves of the sky. Wooden rails caked in paint and soil, rain or shine, root and route up and down, in and out. Snuffling and grunting and snorting and huffing, three pigs hoof their hefty way from their left to right, from cart to trough, from day to night. 

Viennese Bronze

by (unknown); ‘Old Vienna Bronze’

Sheath (empty)

circa 1899 (?)

     A miniature marvel of skilled artistry, balanced aesthetics and simplified narrative combined. Despite its lost other half (was it an envelope-opener? a small knife?), one may easily interpret the sheath’s low-relief imagery with but an open imagination, perhaps revealing the original purpose of whatever once slid within. The Great Horned Owl (known in earlier days as the ‘winged tiger’ of the skies) perched atop the stairwell of perilously-piled tomes may signify the collective wisdom of time, an idea embodied effortlessly by the form of an owl whose calm, innate sense of duty and predatory daring as a species of the hunt reflects the maturity of evolution. The owl may also symbolise the now-rare use of birds as message-deliverers, or the belief that the souls of deceased loved ones may experience reincarnation through the eyes (so-to-speak) of sage, self-sustaining creatures, thus serving as ever-watchful companions over their kin. Even the weather-beaten saying, ‘Birds of a feather’, may apply some value to the sheath. Its upper nib is decorated with what may be seen as a curiously-curled rendition of a six-tailed plume (or might it be a furling, flaying tree?) which, in turn, might suggest the sheath as being one of a pair, or as that which protectively encloses its significant other. The sheath may even be a figurative extension of its owner and the business to which s/he attended with this very sheath (and its missing counterpart). Or, simply, the relief décor may just render the vignette of a sleepy owl, a column of nameless books and a tendril-frenzied shoot eager to lift the former pair into the dreamy, boundless skies - nothing more.

Wright & Teague

Wright & Teague

Octet Ring

circa 2015

     Gently hewn with what easily could have been a minuscule hammer (and handled by an equally minuscule Gnome), the mottled skin of this ocular octet breathes with its own kind of fire. Seemingly Greek in inspiration, its two-fold halo of winking, luminescent jewels gravitates within itself with a tightly-bound energy not unlike that formed between eight siblings, each with a defining character and each with an undeniable need to occasionally prove and outshine the others. Small but prominent, the ring’s every jewel smiles with its own faceted charming confidence, unfazed by the similar attempts of the flanking others to attract if not more praise and attention. Between the ring’s body and its variegated face there is also a particular chemistry that only the medium of gold, whether gilt or pure, can enhance so uniquely and beautifully, making a ring such as this a contemporary art form as well as an ageless testament containing the blood-thirsty, awe-inspiring history behind the discovery of and the world’s ensuing desire for gold. And with the additional fact that the ring’s makers are related to the actress who embodies J.K. Rowling’s wonderful flame-haired character, Ginny Weasley, there unravels a sense of further (albeit quirky) proof that there is indeed a strange kind of fire coursing the veins of this ring. Though whether it is that of the Weasleys’ freckled and fiercely warm-blooded bond as a family, or that of the far-more disconcerting Fiendfyre, its true source remains a mystery. 

F Ad Richter & Cie.

F Ad Richter & Cie.

‘Zoological Garden’ Tangram

circa 1912 (?)

     A kind of puzzle which requires an appreciation of simplicity and a good deal of innate cleverness, this mint tangram set offers a lovely collection of intricately-composed animals to make. Whether one fancies blocking together the form of a grumpy vulture, an elephant calf or even a fire-breathing rat, the twelve geometrical brick-like slabs allow one to expand beyond the realm of a limited reality and into one of strange and fantastical possibility. Each slab has at least three sides with which to play and match to another’s, an act that relentlessly imposes on one’s imagination (if present) the question of whether the pairing is a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’. Those who enjoyably master a game as this are those who predominantly respond with a ‘yes’ and who do not shy away from the resulting never-before-seen imagery of a creatively opportunistic hand. On the contrary, those who easily find this game frustrating are likely those who lack patience and who frequently respond with a ‘no’, even when presented with a beautiful day on which to leisurely sky-gaze and forage for shy shapes among the clouds. 

Hermès

Hermès (Limoges porcelain)

Coupelle of ‘Marqueterie de pierres d’Orient et d’Occident’

circa 1990s

     Simulating a sinuous piecing together of rippling marbles, earthy granites and other semi-precious stoneware, the flora and fauna fanning across the face of this tray seam to one another so as to create a sweet, nectarous bay in which one may happily pool a little collection of bibelots. The romantic relationship between the colours and shapes of the décor casts a kind of ceaseless, swaying shimmer over the tray in its entirety, occasionally teasing one’s sight with an overwhelming (though beautiful) wave of fiery reds or with one too few blinding, starry specks mottling a sea of blue. And what with its airy, ethereal imagery there lingers an additional factor - one that is felt rather than seen - that makes this coupelle all the more lovely as a work of art: it is the sense of the sturdy, firm-footed weight of the porcelain, something that eludes to durability and confidence and something that, in this case, pleasingly counterbalances the floating snail, wooden leaves and bashful, one-eyed green worm with an unwavering hand, keeping safe those who play innocently and naïvely within its sloped confines.