1. Teiresias in the Kossuth Lajos tér underground
Many are surprised to discover a statue residing within the Kossuth Lajos tér metro station, steps away from the Parliament. While the location itself isn't necessarily shocking, the sight of the blind prophet immediately prompts questions: why here, and why this particular subject? László Mátyás Oláh's 2005 sculpture also raises further confusion: what is he pointing at, why such a peculiar gesture, and why is he partially unclothed? While the reason for the latter remains unclear, the other questions have answers.
The sculptor's concept was inspired by, and indeed modelled on, the pictogram used to represent blind passengers on Budapest transport. During his search for a canine model, he encountered a Labrador breeder working for the transport authority. Coinciding with the station's renovation, the transport company opted to install the sculpture in Kossuth tér station. The prophet isn't actually pointing forward; he originally held a cane, which was repeatedly stolen and replaced until 2013, when the replacements ceased. Thus, the figure now appears to be pointing, but only due to the absence of his missing cane.
2. Ears in the City Park
Gergő Kovách's recently installed sculpture, adorning the columns outside the House of Music Hungary, conveys a clear message: these keen, anthropomorphic ears are drawn to the music within. Animated with hands and feet, these gigantic ears appear to climb towards the building. The installation's unsettling title, 'Fülfalka' (meaning 'A Flock of Ears'), coupled with the visual itself, evokes a distinctly horror-movie aesthetic. Understandably, some might find them unsettling; after all, who wouldn't be taken aback by giant, limbed ears descending to collect concert tickets?
3. Bear on a scooter
This is a truly established piece, Sándor Óra's work having been erected in 1959 within the inner courtyard of the downtown residential building at 10 Honvéd tér, its current location. This sculpture of a bear on a scooter, once belonging to the Ministry of Defence, stands amidst a stone fountain – which may have originally functioned as such. The sculpture wasn't designed specifically for this location, having been completed in 1954 and only finding its home five years later.
The artist appears to have had an affinity for bears, as another of his sculptures, depicting a bear balancing on a ball, resides in the courtyard of a kindergarten in the 3rd district, and is entirely conventional. The Honvéd tér bear, however, possesses a certain oddness, exemplified by the slightly unsettling (perhaps even mischievous) smile with which it expresses its joy at scooting, and, of course, the very act of a bear on a scooter. One could argue that both bear sculptures evoke the atmosphere of traditional circuses. Notably, the scooter displays a large number 1 on its front.
4. Boy on a scooter
The statue of a boy on a scooter in Váci utca, in the city centre, proved remarkably prescient. When it was installed in 2008, few could have foreseen the imminent proliferation of scooters across the city.
Children love this sculpture by Boldizsár Szmrecsányi very much, and tourists frequently pose for photographs with it. It's generally well-liked, and the boy's robust physique (along with his sturdy scooter) gives the impression of a work by the Colombian painter and sculptor Fernando Botero, who sadly passed away in 2023, rather than a Hungarian artist. This substantial piece is made all the more distinctive because the boy isn't looking at the road ahead, but rather gazing skyward. Perhaps he simply dislikes scooting in the rain.
5. The birth of the city
One of Budapest's most perplexing public artworks resides on the Pest side, in Kálvin tér, though perhaps more accurately, under Kálvin tér, within the underpass. Gyula Illés's 1983 red marble sculpture commemorates the Kecskemét Gate, which was demolished in 1794. However, its form tends to evoke rather different interpretations.
It's all in the eye of the beholder, of course. Adding to the work's unusual nature, the artist incorporated his own pet into the relief: his cat can be spotted on the far right.
(Cover photo: Attila Polyák – We Love Budapest)
