In some ways, Hadik’s more minimalistic new appearance is truer to the place’s original spirit – the first incarnation of this low-key hangout couldn’t have competed with the likes of more well-established writers’ haunts like downtown Pest’s always-ornate Centrál and New York cafés. Hadik wasn’t an especially atmospheric place – the writer Zsigmond Móricz, who was a regular here back in the day, said that the vibe there was like being in a rural train station, or like an “overlit granary”. With his characteristic sarcasm, Karinthy compared the brown-walled appearance of the Hadik’s basement bar to a bag (“szatyor” in Hungarian); soon after the 21st-century Hadik opened for business, a new affiliated hotspot next door immortalized Karinthy’s quip in its name.
According to Tibor Bosznai, the Hadik’s art director, the previous design tried to keep tradition alive, but they realized that not everything can be copied, especially not the spirit of an age. The previous interior was a strong reference to the old Hadik, including such important components as the windbreak at the entrance made from crimson drapery, or the Baroque-style wallpaper they used inside. The local government asked them to have this design back then, when they had to resurrect the place almost from nothing – previously the space was used as a shoe store.
The “wall of fame” next to the entrance was also a tool for referencing the past – this mural depicts Karinthy, Kosztolányi, Móricz, and other artists who once considered the Hadik as a second home. The artwork is still there, but painter Bertalan Zsili Babos revised it a bit, in order to make it harmonize with the new look.
The most eye-catching changes in the new-old space, designed by architect Imre Rimóczi, are the exposed brick walls, completed by different small design elements like wooden surfaces imitating beams, and industrial lamps. The role of the latter fixtures is interesting, as the classic old chandelier remained in place; they also kept the café’s Thonet chairs and wooden tables. The armchairs received worn leather covers instead of plush upholstery. Additionally, both the downstairs and the gallery areas are now connected to the aforementioned Szatyor, as this is a thriving business, and it became unnecessary to approach them as two different places.
Hadik is already an established literary venue, so this profile became unnecessary and outdated in the design, says the architect. The always packed Hadik Literary Salon operates here, and local artists like to spend their time here – Oscar-winning director László Nemes-Jeles wrote the script for Son of Saul here, and he donated two pages of the original work to the café.
When Hadik recently welcomed reporters for an opening press event before inviting the public, the proceedings perfectly illustrated how integral this place is for residents of the neighborhood. As soon as the press event was over, locals immediately rushed in to reclaim their usual spots back from the journalists and cameramen.
It’s nice to see the continuous development of Buda’s cultural main street, even though there are some inconsistencies made by the authorities. While they strictly required Hadik to have an authentically local appearance, there’s a Chinese fast-food place advertising itself with garish flashing lights just on the other corner of the same building.
Despite such irregularities, Hadik won’t change – the huge glass windows, the inner space that gives home to exhibitions, and the delightful terrace all remain. It’s not a coffeehouse anymore, but it’s not a ruin pub either. Even with (or perhaps especially because of) the new image, Hadik is likely to continue serving as a hub for the local literary and artistic scene.
