Hungarian Museum of Trade and Tourism
Budapest Operetta Theatre
Hungarian National Library
Budapest History Museum -
Museum of Kiscell
'The idea belongs to Daniel Molnár that showgirls are worthy for the attention of cultural studies [...] His philos (his irony, and his honest anachronisms) appear on the tableaux where the texts are a bit too long [...] nevertheless they are exact, relevant, showing a wide horizon, almost perfect.'
Magyar Narancs, February 2017
'a delicately evoked era with documents and installations'
Magyar Hírlap, January 2017
'a colorful collection honoring a legendary era [...] worth to visit;)'
she.hu, January 2017
I curated my first exhibition about the life and work of chorus girls in Budapest in the 1930s. Looking at my vision, the Hungarian Museum of Trade and Tourism gave me a free hand to create an experience. The exhibition challenged the romanticised male-centric history soaked in nostalgia. I chose the title referring to memorials of the Unknown Soldier. These women, who were trying to make it were the unsung heroines of entertainment in their era.
After the Nazis wiped out the famous Berlin nightlife, Budapest clubs emerged. So much so, that The Billboard and Variety reviewed their productions. Also, the city was cheap, located in the wild and exotic Central Europe. Lord Astor, Fyodor Shalyapin, Chancellor van Papen, Juliana of the Netherlands, Sacha Guitry, Myrna Loy are only a few of the famous visitors who signed the guestbooks. We set up the environment of a nightclub back and forth. In the narrow and crowded dressing rooms the audience faced the reality of the backstage. The stage was open for everyone as well as the seats in the bar.
We had excellent reviews by major and minor papers and media. I guided 47 tours - an unprecedented demand in the history of the museum for a temporary exhibition. The management decided to extend the run with an extra month. When it closed, they launched it on a tour for regional museums. Contact them here.
In 2017, the Budapest Operetta Theatre reopened the former Moulin Rouge, as Imre Kálmán Theatre. Aside from writing the opening piece, they asked me if I could set up a foyer experience about its past. I had to avoid 'Moulin Rouge' in the title, so I chose to focus on the fluidity of the venue through the years.
Both the Government and the Municipality of Budapest financed the reconstruction. Their involvement made the case very delicate and representative. The exhibition opened in April 2017, and closed only when the management changed in 2019.
I had to write the history of the venue from scratch. Presenting it was especially tricky: unlike in The Unknown Girl, my hands were tied. The foyer is usually crowded with people snacking and taking selfies. Iconographic sources for certain eras were lacking. Many performers of previous times are still alive. This latter is great but also requires navigation among their icebergs of sensitivities. (Hardly any global warming can melt those.) Still, we managed to highlight one person who spent the most of his time in the Moulin Rouge. We dedicated a special area to Eric Vogel, the main designer of the club from 1931 until 1989 (!). He used to draw croquis and costume sketches at one of the tables. As a virtuoso of colour, he worked with whatever was around: pencils, paint and also nail polish.
The exhibition’s was not designed by me, but by Part Stúdió. Orsolya and György Kara, father and daughter; it was a pleasure to work with them.
'among the intimate installations we can see many creative solutions [...] a relevant exhibiton nowadays.'
Fidelio , April 2019
What happened to nightlife and theatre entertainment after WWII? And to the unknown girls in the 1950s during the peak of Stalinism? In February 2019, I created an exhibition in the Hungarian National Library based on my book of the same title.
State propaganda dominated every inch of life and entertainment was not an exception. Traces and pieces of truth were hidden between the lines. Hence, the idea: the audience has to make an effort (a small one but still) to see the exhibited material. We hanged a sign next to the curtains, saying: 'dare to look behind!' - to encourage people to do so. Such things are not self-explanatory or automatic in a post-socialist society.
The space and infrastructure was not flexible, to say the least so I decided on a symbolic use. For instance, I told the story of an actress using an unused huge catalogue drawer. She became a state security agent in exchange for a theatre career. The drawer (which you had to open) and its cards implied the immense number of agents at the time. (Their identities are still unknown due to political restrictions on researching the folders.) I threw the stories of politically banned actresses on the floor - so you have to bend to see them. Their 'exclusion' from the exhibition was a metaphor for their careers. I found very important to remind the audience how many stage professionals left the country due to politics. Their absence is invisible by now, but it was not in the era. If they could have stayed, Hungarian theatre history would look completely different.
The extraordinary enthusiasm of my colleagues helped me to make the exhibition a hit on the news. The exhibition appeared on almost every major Hungarian radios and TV channels. (Propaganda and independent alike - interpreting it in their own ways.) index.hu, the former leading Hungarian independent news site especially praised its depth and originality. The run was extended until October 2019 and concluded with a big finissage.
'a must'
kultura.hu, February 2022
'it is absolutely unique in Hungary [...] and internationally'
enbudapestem.hu, February 2022
'time travel at its best'
Demokrata, February 2022
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'a »sensational« exhibition'
hypeandhyper.com, March 2022
I was researching something else when a box of 19th century posters and leaflets came across. It was a pile of circus advertisements from the bequest of old print collectors. The acts and the events were astounding: salto above a haystack, trained deers, walking on water to name a few. It did not take long to convince the museum to exhibit them in public - for the second time after 200 years. I teamed up with my fantastic circus historian colleague, Katalin Teller. 18 months later - tackling bureaucracy, illnesses and Covid restrictions - the exhibition opened to universal acclaim.
Everything we've seen in circus hundreds of times was brand new for the audience in the era. We attempted to make the audience feel this excitement. We split the space into two, creating different atmospheres. A raw wood shack (Schaubude) hosted 'outdoor' spectaculars such as menageries and equestriennes. In the room behind we set up a Salon or Theatre for magicians, optical illusions and 'indoor' acts. A total of 13 themes gave a panoramic view on city life and entertainment in the era.
Our goal was to link the cultural canon taught in schools with the new discoveries of popular culture. We used contemporary posters as parallels to prove that not much has changed in the business since its origins. What did, is the vocabulary. Back at the time there weren't Hungarian words for several phenomenons so we had lots of laughs. For instance, a magician was not addressed as 'magician' but 'boszorkány úr'. Literally: 'a witch gentleman'. We compiled a visual glossary of these familiar but unfamiliar expressions.
We created a new automaton, because the originals were in very bad shape. We let the audience control it to understand how elaborate these machines were. Also, how much effort does it take to create one without precision tools. Thirty other museums loaned their treasures for us, for which we are very grateful.
