Category: features

by Emese Krunák-Hajagos

When I walked into Zsolt Ferenczy’s large studio in Miskolc (Hungary) I was surrounded by large paintings and drawings that caught my attention with their vivid colours and unique figurative. I fell in love with It’s time (Itt az idő, 2020) at first sight. A very challenging work, with many layers of meaning, that invites endless possible narratives. I think this painting encompasses all of Ferenczy’s painterly symbolism and creative methods.

Let’s start with the animals that appear in his works. The monkey is an important one, recurring in many of his paintings. The one in Dark Material (Sötét anyag, 2020) refers to Frans Jansz Post’s painting View of Olinda (1662). It takes us to the Dutch colonies of Brazil. Post depicts a beautiful landscape with exotic animals. Ferenczy’s starting point is also a landscape but a very different one that is urban and imaginary at the same time. The monkey from Post’s painting is leaning against a red metal dumpster. His body is almost human with a sarcastic smile on its face. Exotic birds fly over palm trees and rich vegetation. The purple material—the ‘dark material’—seems to be solid and porous at the same time. The purple shapes remind us of mountains. But what are they really? Are they man-made or did they come from somewhere else? Are they nuclear and dangerous or just a byproduct of some digging?

The sky is also mystical. The layered pink cloud-shapes seem to move upward. It could easily be the smoke from a nuclear explosion. The colored stripes in front of it might be ‘fences’ trying to separate the two worlds to protect us. There is an idyllic forest in the middle of the composition contrasted by the red dumpster with the dark material and the pink clouds. A weird, foreboding environment.

Figures are central elements in Ferenczy’s paintings. His research for his paintings is very sophisticated. He has wide and varied interests that seemingly don’t relate; deep, updated knowledge in anthropology, history (both natural and human), art history, stories of animal and human mutations, among many other fields. The series called Bestiary (2019–2020) include pieces containing images of human evolution and mixed races (casta) entitled The Burden of the Past. Iceman (Jégember, 2019–2020) is a reconstruction of the face of a creature we know as a Yeti or Bigfoot. A very tall and large-footed being, who reportedly has been seen in various places on Earth. The portrait is very dramatic, the black ink flows over the surface, the dark eyes, hair and beard suggest the hidden nature of the creature. What makes this series even more interesting is the cardboard base. Cardboard boxes are used in the transport of goods. Ferenczy “considers the box to be an important symbol of global trade.” Then, after they fulfilled their duty, they get discarded. The artist pinpoints the similarities between the fate of those boxed and creatures that are extinct or on the verge of extinction. He reconstructs some of them, like the Tasmanian Wolf, among other mutated animals, like a two headed sheep.

History, especially Hungarian history, is challenging to comment on, especially when it comes to—and it always does— talking about the fight for freedom. In the 19th century the Habsburg Monarchy ruled Hungary. Their high taxation interfered with the developments of Hungarian agriculture, animal breeding and industry. To show their resistance, Hungarians dressed in the traditional outfits of mounted horse-herdsman (csikós), including baggy pants (bő gatya), long coats ofter lined with fur, fur hats (kucsma), peaky hats (csákó), and carried a sword and spoke Hungarian. It was meant to show their resistance. The figures in Horsemen gathering bombs and The Rebel wore those traditional clothes and actively engaged in the rebellion that came to a conclusion in the war of 1848 against the Habsburgs. They are forboding images. We can feel that death is at the gate. The compositions are almost fairy-tale-like. In both paintings, the figures are elongated, giving them some eerie, magical appearance, wearing traditional Hungarian clothes as symbols of their political stand. The landscape is the great Hungarian Plain but we can’t really recognize it as it is modified to tell the story. There is a hyena who feeds on carcases, at the feet of one of the horsemen in The horsemen gathering bombs, snakes are fighting at the top of a flag. The bomb (that didn’t exist at that time) is on the ground. The Rebel is mounted on his horse, holding a sword, ready to fight. There are both peaceful (the resting deer) and worrisome (the agitated swan) animals around him. We face the dangerous pink clouds again and bombs are falling from the sky to destroy this budding rebellion. Pink/red light radiates from the rebel’s head, giving him the status of a hero.

As I mentioned earlier, I saw It’s time as a conclusion of Ferenczy painterly symbolism. Beside a Tisza-type boat (Tisza is a large river in Hungary) a boy in a peaky hat stands. There are animals around the boats, rabbits jumping playfully, a lizard, a deer looking into the distance, and a seagull flying above. In our world of environmental issues like global warming, forest fires and floods as well as political uncertainties, we never know what’s coming. We don’t know where the issues are coming from, what or who caused them, but disasters are coming for sure. This boy, like a “New Noah” is waiting for it to happen, possibly a flood, but there is no water rising yet. Everyone is waiting and ready. The animals are nearby, the two monkeys, like sailors are waiting. It is the quiet moment before the storm. The sky behind reminds us of the sky in Dark Material. Ferenczy wrote: “The sky always shows a different formation than the sphere below, but there is always something that connects the two. I borrowed the floating shape from astrophysical models that illustrate the motion of the black holes or galaxies. The danger, the sign of times, always appear in the sky …” Indeed, it does. The red shapes might be fires burning with dark smoke, while the blue, like exploding splashes of water that will rise and endanger everything. When it happens, the birdhouse is the only hope, the symbol of home, a way to escape from danger, and a chance for survival.

Like a crown, there is a purple atomic shape hovering at the very top of the composition, inviting the future into the upcoming catastrophe. Is it only observing? Or is it there to help or give us some hope? We don’t know. It’s like a poem. You don’t have to understand every motif to relate to the story and enjoy the vision.

by Emese Krunak-Hajagos

The Graphic Arts Triennial in Hungary, takes place in a beautiful city in the mountains of the Bükk Nationale Park, Miskolc. The triennial started as a biennial 65 years ago, in 1961, then for several reasons, financial and organizational among them, turned into a triennial. For a North American reader 65 years sounds almost unbelievable. It is not an international show or art fair, but a Hungarian art event. In today’s rootless world glazed in international veneer, this is a major accomplishment, a triumph of Hungarian art and perseverance.

Reproduced graphic art was always a European genre—think of Dürer’s and Rembrandt’s work. It has been flourishing from the 19th century to the present day within Central Eastern Europe, in Hungary, Germany, Poland, Slovakia and the Czech Republic. The genre has endless potential as both the message and the technical implementation harmoniously capture the possibility of constant renewal.

Because of the 65th anniversary there are two large exhibitions. One, titled Sixty-Five, is at the Herman Ottó Museum, showcasing all the Grand Prize winners from the very first year till today. The Museum’s rich collection shows an emblematic picture of 20th century Hungarian graphic art. It is a very interesting and entertaining exhibition where visitors can follow the historical, thematic and technical developments of reproduced graphic arts.

The Miskolc Graphic Arts Triennial 2026 fills all the rooms of the large Miskolc Gallery. Visitors first see the exhibition of the previous triennial’s Grand Prize winner, Tamás Felshmann’s, titled Architectural Heritage. At first sight I thought that I was looking at historical pieces of architectural plans or illustrations. The works are very impressive, large-sized and captivating. When you start looking at the details you want to know everything about the whereabouts of the buildings, their locations, originality, the architect’s name, how they were built and why and how they are depicted in this way. It is a unique show of majestic buildings. We can identify some basilicas, like St. Peter’s in Roma or St. Mark’s in Venice, while others depict public places, all representing our historical heritage through architecture. Buildings depicted by dark lines, grey surfaces or white, empty areas are perfect replicas of the original buildings. Still there is something more to them. Felschmann seems to add a magic touch that turns the buildings into something dreamlike, so even while they are real and proportionate, they turn into something beyond it, a heavenly place. The Basilica series, greyish drawings of symmetrical facades, sometimes with a drop of color, are spiritually intense. Even when the pieces are dark, they still radiate beauty and harmony. You can see that these works have been done by a perfectionist. Everything is painstakingly correct, but still spiritual and nostalgic, showing a bygone era creatively transferred to another age.


On the second floor, the largest room of the gallery showcases the award-winning artworks. Grand Prix winner Miklós Kelemen’s (Municipality of Miskolc Grand Prize award) Unfinished sculpture is both a commemoration and a tribute to the art of his sculptor grandfather. The large-sized work, composed of 9 prints, is very powerful. It depicts the creation of a large sculpture of a horse, maybe intended to be in a public square, following the old technique when the artist built a wood frame at first. We can see that wood structure is tied together with ropes. The surface of the wood panels and the texture of the ropes are beautifully drawn with sensitive lines and deep shades.

Tamas G. Kovács’ (Hungarian Academy of Arts Special Prize) biblical triptych is challenging both thematically and visually. While recognizing the narrative (The annunciation, The moment of birth, Massacre of the innocents) I hesitate about how to interpret it. Is it satirical or AI focused? There are robots with other AI elements in each composition, as well as mythical monsters mixed with machinery parts. There are many layers. The top (heaven?), the middle with the actual action, and something is also happening underground where they are digging a mine with strange machinery. Is it a religious composition or a set of tarot cards? Hard to say, but either way it is interesting. You can’t overlook it.

There are numerous young artists (more than 20% of the participants) in the triennial, Orsolya Cseh (Hajagos Imre award) among them. What is remarkable in her linocut, titled Wedged into my words is the way she depicts her motifs. On the left side of the composition is a large figure facing a ball-like thing with thorns, a bent tree, some vegetation on the ground and maybe animals. There is a crossroad in the foreground and a bicycle on the ground. What kind of world—imaginary or real—does the artist travel? The strength of this piece is the making of it, the linocut, that allows such a rich surface. The curving lines, the various patterns, the strong contrasts of black and white elements create a rich, expressive composition.

Anikó Csonga Kovács (Hermann Ottó Museum – Miskolc Gallery award) depicts a woman warrior in a Japanese fighting position. Titled Individual, she is alone and faceless. It seems that she is in a chemical war, with a container on her back connected to a tube that will shoot out the liquid. This is a linocut on layered plastic sheets that gives it a 3D feeling.

Mátyás Boros (Szabadkéz Gallery and Art Colony award) creates a composition in Totem 2, that mixes graphical and sculptural elements into a unique print installation.

The triennial is a huge exhibition with 114 artworks by 69 artists. We live in an age of rapid technological advancements, and the field of reproduced graphic art is no exception. New design genres emerge at a record pace only to lose their dominant role just as swiftly. This is the case with electrography, which used to appear in significant quantities, but this year its presence is negligible. The call for the triennial allows for a wide range of techniques, whether it is traditional or new and experimental. During my conversation with curator Ábel Kónya, the potential involvement of artificial intelligence was discussed, which clearly showcases that the organizers are open to new methods of implementation.

I was somewhat surprised by the large number of artworks that follow traditional techniques requiring academic training. The Hungarian University of Fine Arts has an excellent Graphic Art Department that most of the exhibiting artists attended or attend as the triennial allows students to enter their works. A good example of this a third-year student, Veronika Fürstand’s piece, Only I can truly understand. It is a beautifully lyrical composition, where a tiger comforts a girl by licking her face. Love and empathy don’t have borders.

Prominent pieces within the traditional category include the sensitive, figurative, soft-ground etching compositions of János Barta (Hungarian Graphic Artists Association award). Réka Dobi’s series, From late Night to early morning are outstanding images with their sensitive depiction of the various stages of sleep, waiting for it come, dreams, even nightmares and total escape from reality. Mietta Kerper’s woodcut guides us into a rhythmic rainy night, where red figures covered with various patterns walk along the road. It has strong painterly qualities and creates a meditative atmosphere.

However, this does not mean that experimental works are neglected. Several works refer to their unique techniques and implementation methods, such as in the case of Zsolt Durucskó and Dániel Lebeda, which encourage the viewers to figure out the methods used. Electrography is still present; examples include the works of Péter Berentz and Zsuzsanna Enyedi.

The exhibited works of the 2026 Miskolc Graphic Arts Triennale give a remarkable picture of the contemporary Hungarian graphic arts. It shows the thematic deepness and technical variety of the artists of our era. It also paints a true picture of social situations, political movements and changes, outlines everyday life and the psychological responses of people. Rich narratives and strong expressions always were and still are the main characteristics of graphic art. This positive outlook, both in terms of themes and techniques, I believe is one of the main reasons behind the genre’s survival. In Hungary graphic arts still flourish and will have a long and wonderful future.

Images are courtesy of Miskolc Gallery. Photo: János Ádám

Miskolc Graphic Arts Triennial, 2026, Miskolc Gallery, 2 Rákóczi Street, Miskolc and Sixty-five, 28 Görgey Artúr Street, Miskolc, Hungary, both May 9 – August 9, 2026

by Jennifer Leskiw

If you have never been to the Royal Canadian Military Institute on University Avenue in Toronto, you must visit and take in the phenomenal exhibition by Canada’s foremost contemporary war artist, Gertrude Kearns.

This exhibition, straight from showing at the Embassy of Canada in Washington DC, is a selection from two decades of work 2006-2025. Drawings, paintings, text/image prints as ‘propaganda-play posters’ capture the humanity and courage behind Canadian Armed Forces individuals who have commanded and form the military.

Kearns’ interest in conflict work began thirty years ago. Since then, she has worked diligently, both officially and as an independent artist. What began as a curiosity about Canadian defence progressed into years of research into Canadian Armed Forces missions. As a result, valuable contacts and relationships were steadily built on trust and respect with each sitter. Her artistic skill captures the essence of these dedicated individuals. We see pride, honour, strength and sometimes weakness, even the anti-hero in these faces. How much decision-making, questions about morality, emotional conflict and physical hardship, PTSD, have these soldiers experienced? Who are these individuals that have given of themselves so selflessly? What have they seen and lived through?  What is their message? Is there one?

The Gulf War of 1990-91 initially stirred Kearns’ interest in conflict work. From there she began to examine the Yugoslav Wars of 1991-99, considering the pressures on society and ethnic cleansing. The inability of UN peacekeepers to prevent the Rwandan Genocide in 1994 and the impact of that failure created a series of haunting work featuring Canada’s  General, Romeo Dallaire in 2001-2.

As a war/military artist, this journey led to Kearns’ admission to a training exercise at Petawawa, Ontario in 2004. Later on she was given the opportunity of real-life experiences, embedded in Afghanistan in 2006. It was during this time, about to travel in an armoured vehicle preparing to leave Kandahar City, a suicide bomber struck the convoy ahead.  Among the ten wounded were three Canadian soldiers. A diplomat and two other civilians were killed. After the wounded soldiers were brought back to base, Kearns helped clean the infirmary. Needless to say, this experience affected Kearns profoundly.  

She has worked steadily and tirelessly producing work, giving us a glimpse into a world that many of us will never see or experience. Lucky are we that are safe and sound. Concluding with more recent counter-terrorism, sovereignty and global security works, Kearns poignantly reminds us that war is never really that far away.

The Royal Canadian Military Institute is not open to the public, but Sunday afternoon tours of the exhibition led by Kearns herself, RCMI Honorary War Artist, begin on May 24 between 2:30-3:30 pm. Sunday tours continue May 31, in June on the 14th, 21st, and 28th; July 5th, 12th, 19th, and 26th. There is a tour on Sunday, August 2, 2026, the last day of the show. Address: 426 University Avenue, just south of Dundas, and the TTC St Patrick subway station.

Confirm tour availability: RCMI (416) 597-0286, or contact Gertrude Kearns directly at contact@gertrudekearnsartist.com

by John Mendelsohn

Writing about Murray Hochman’s paintings is, for me, an act of time travel. I am in the present, in his current exhibition of very large, visually mysteriously canvases that have a raw, open spirit. There is my memory of Murray, many decades ago when I first met him, a daunting guy in a dim loft in Lower Manhattan, full of his art and saturated with the odor of spray paint.

And there is the man himself now, whose journey of 91 years has been a constant painter’s progress, with all the satisfactions and vagaries that that implies. Lately, Murray’s work has received well-deserved recognition in group shows and in solo exhibitions at KinoSaito and the current one at Gallery AP Space.

In writing about painting, I usually focus exclusively on the work – what it does to me, and all that it might suggest – hoping to speak for art that speaks for itself. But here I want to see how the painter’s story and the paintings merge in my thoughts.

Murray is half a generation older than me, having grown up on New York’s Lower East Side in the 1930s and 1940s. He served in the military in the aftermath of the Korean War. His deployment was in Germany, permitting him to travel in Europe, and work in ceramics in an army base crafts class. The GI bill allowed him to earn a degree in art history from New York University, and an MFA in ceramics from Alfred University.

Returning to New York in the mid-1960s, Murray’s early work drew collectors and exhibition opportunities in the burgeoning downtown scene. The influences that Murray was drawn to included Abstract Expressionism, minimalist music, and Japanese culture. Buddhism became a life-long practice for him, whose presence in his paintings is implicit in a kind of acceptance of what is, and how that can manifest itself in a kind of hard-won spaciousness.

All writing about the essence of paintings is speculative, but Murray’s move with his spouse Lois to the Berkshires in Massachusetts two decades ago seems central to the work in the exhibition. In this rural setting, the painter has a barn to work in, and the chance to produce large-scale canvasses, some of which are 10 feet in height. But beyond size, the Large Polychrome paintings have an expansiveness, toughness, and lyricism in which I intuit the presence of the natural world.

I sense in the painting Silver and Copper Abstraction, that that the metallic surface seems to evoke an iced-over pond, with a calligraphy of whipping, inscribed lines. In Stormy Polychrome, we feel the presence of gathering clouds and dying, persisting light. In Large Polychrome No. 6, the golden illumination of dawn or dusk fills the canvas, marked allover with a rapid sgrafitto.

In a number of paintings, we are in a watery realm, with thinned-out pigment becoming rivulets in a broken field. Here the exhibition’s title, Dissolution / Resolution comes into play most evidently. Murray uses solvents to open up stained or sprayed paint, resulting in droplets or flows in the shifting atmosphere. Large Polychrome No. 2 is a prime example of this painterly process almost creating the painting by itself. In contrast is the more vividly colored Large Polychrome No. 5, with its zones of red, yellow, aqua, white, black, and tan, animated by airborne, graffiti-like sprays.

In the gallery’s lower level is Murray’s Inner Spaces series, small-scale works on paper, elegantly mounted on silver grounds. These intimate works show the artist exploring a range of flows where pigment and solvents mix in surprisingly expressive ways. Also, on the lower level is a single sculpture, Camo Tower, representing a whole other body of Murray’s work. Found detritus from consumer culture is assembled into a cubic form, painted in a range of moody greens. In concert with this work is Murray Hochman, A Labyrinth, a sound piece by Fior Daniela, with an original score and Murray’s spoken reflections on his
work.

Murray’s work is resolutely abstract, but full of emotion, turmoil, light, and hints of transcendence. Constructive and destructive forces are both always present, playing out the performance of an existential drama. The painter allows paint to become a practice and path, a way of losing and finding oneself.

Murray Hochman Dissolution / Resolution at Gallery AP Space, New York, April 2 – May 10, 2026