COURAGE

Свързване на колекции

The film is based on a documentary novel written by Gyula Krúdy in 1931. Krúdy used the infamous story of the Jewish blood libel in Tiszaeszlár, a village in northern Hungary. A young girl, Eszter Solymosi, disappeared in the summer of 1882, and the Jewish inhabitants of the village were accused of having killed her as part of a ritual murder. The writer got material for his book by collecting information from the recollections of the lawyer who represented the Jews who had been accused and from his own memories, rooted in oral tradition, as he grew up near the scene of the events.

The basic framework of the film is the coaching given by an officer in the gendarmerie office to Móric Scharf, who gives false testimony the text of which is identical to the testimony given at the trial. We see versions of the same sequence, each fo which has shifted a little bit in comparison to the previous one as the coaching continues. The filmmaker’s radical gesture is to give the viewer an opportunity to see how the protagonist's mental process develops until it reaches the final state, in which he is able to see the crime. Erdély casted László Rajk, the son of an executed communist leader, for the part of gendarmerie officer Recsky (Rajk’s father was executed by his own communist comrades following a show trial during the period of communist terror in Hungary).

Another key component in Erdély’s film is the way in which he makes the actual materials used in the creation of the film visible. For example, the mental images are shot from the editing table, so they are grainy and obscure comparing to the other scenes. The end credits section is a kind of withdrawal of the provocative images, since the actors stop playing their parts and present themselves as real people, “as civilians,” and doing so somehow negate the fabricated story (and the images of the ritual murder) presented earlier. Upon completion in 1981, the film was banned

Produced by BBS, 1981. Banned until 1989.

Cotton-wool dipped into goose grease on standing A4 format paper. Typed text on the upper left corner: “Do not separate! Do not isolate!”

Miklós Erdély intended this work to be part of the concept collection initiated by László Beke called “Imagination/Idea,” which consisted of paper works arranged into a dossier. Erdély formulated the text with this in mind and handled the work to the collector without wrapping it. László Beke was compelled to find a solution in order to protect the other works, so after some pondering he placed the work of Erdély into a nylon folder.

By late 1983, Dorin Tudoran espoused increasingly radical ideas regarding the total failure and essentially flawed character of the communist system as a whole, which he saw as irredeemable and deeply corrupt. He had already made his views public in 1983 in a series of interviews with various Western press outlets, expressing his conviction that Ceaușescu’s Romania was an absolute dictatorship and seeing the communist system as the main cause of the Romanian people’s material and moral decay. In his essay written in early 1984, Tudoran proposed a complex analysis of the role and situation of intellectuals in communist Romania. Tudoran focused primarily on the causes of his colleagues’ subservience and total submission to the communist regime. He found the roots of this phenomenon in the persecution and déclassement of this stratum by the communist authorities after 1945, comparing them systematically to their peers in Central Europe. Among the factors which generated compliance, Tudoran highlighted the specificity of local political traditions; the terror of the first decade-and-a-half of communism, which led to a mass “moral capitulation” of the intellectuals; their complete reliance on the state for professional survival; and the skilful manipulation of their upward social mobility by the communist authorities. However, Tudoran argued that the compliance of the absolute majority of intellectuals in Romania was, above all, a direct consequence of Ceauşescu’s personal rule and of the Romanian communist system. The essay concluded that Romanian intellectuals had to reassert their responsibility toward the broader society by emulating and following the lead of their predecessors from the generation of 1848, who had succeeded in breaking with the political traditions of subservience to the state and had emancipated themselves by embracing synchronicity with the West. Rejecting the notion of “resistance through culture” as inefficient and outdated, Tudoran pleaded for an alliance with other social groups on the Polish model. In his opinion, this was the only way to limit the abuses of the communist system, as long as total change was still inconceivable. This work, viewed at the time as the most radical text written by a Romanian dissident since Paul Goma, still represents the best and most convincing analysis of the Romanian intellectuals’ plight under communism produced by an “insider.” Mihnea Berindei received a typewritten copy of the original text, in Romanian, which he then forwarded to the editorial board of the journal L’Alternative, recommending it for publication. It was in fact published in French later that year (in two parts, the first in L’Alternative, no. 29, September–October 1984, pp. 42-50, and the second in the following issue). In a special note to the editors, Mihnea Berindei stated: “the text turned out to be longer than required. If possible, I suggest its publication in two parts. If not, I would very much like to […] keep its structure, including the mottos. In other words, at least something from all the chapters should be kept, since the text has a certain structure and ‘strategy.’ Maybe the complete version would be interesting for another periodical, if it is not interesting for the journal that suggested its writing […]. It’s good that the text exists. It could also be printed under another, more attractive title!” This clearly shows Berindei’s personal role in steering the text toward publication and his position of intermediary between authors writing in Romania and the Western public sphere. Despite the apparent initial hesitations of the editorial board, Tudoran’s text had a rather significant impact on the exile community and also prepared the ground for the emergence of similar critiques in the following years. This masterpiece highlights Mihnea Berindei’s contribution to the “journey” of this fundamental text of Romanian dissent toward its target audience in the West.

Emperor of Ethiopia Haile Selassie visited Hungary in 1964 and then requested help to create a scientific folk dance collection in Ethiopia. György Martin, who had already engaged in research on folk dances in Hungary, and a colleague, Bálint Sárosi, traveled to Africa to spend two months in Ethiopia between 7 June 1965 and 3 August 1965. The Institute for Cultural Relations supported their trip, and the Ethiopian state helped organize research in the country. The Ethiopian Emperor intended to use the collection for political aims to shore up the legitimacy of the regime. Political goals were combined with academic interest, but there were no academic research groups in Ethiopia which specialized in this topic.

Tadeusz Rolke's portrait of his friend, photojournalist Eustachy Kossakowski, with a girl named Matylda. Kossakowski is sitting on an Italian Lambretta scooter – an unattainable luxury for most citizens of the Polish People's Republic at the time. His nonchalant pose and a gaze hidden behind sunglasses create an aura of an elegant lady-killer. Both he and the shyly smiling girl in a flared dress and a blouse with an op-art pattern appear meticulously styled in accordance with the newest fashion trends of the time. They could be strolling the streets of Paris or Milan. Only the awareness of the material and aesthetic poverty of the communist capital, still undergoing reconstruction after the damages inflicted by war, brings to attention the full context contained in this photo.

In the words of art critic Adam Mazur, “the sight of a photographer and elegant youths posing was a rarity in rough-hewn and ruined Warsaw. More than reality, Rolke's photograph depicts the dreams of the generation that grew up after the war; dreams of a lifestyle very different from the standards of  socialism. Despite formal similarities with contemporaneous photographs made in a similar style in the West, it is something more – a manifesto of a generation”. “That is what this photograph is” – wrote art critic Joanna Kinowska – “more an icon of style, fashion, a particular time and memory than a regular icon of a photo – a document, a testimony, an important and groundbreaking shot”.

Due to the black-and-white frame, clothes, or even Kossakowski blonde hair, the photograph may call to mind another manifesto of this generation – Andrzej Wajda's movie Niewinni czarodzieje (Innocent sorcerers), released in the same year: 1960.

Source:
Mazur Adam, Tadeusz Rolke, „Eustachy i Matylda”, Culture.pl 2014, http://culture.pl/pl/dzielo/tadeusz-rolke-eustachy-i-matylda