the attic
Thursday, July 05, 2001
Tuesday, July 03, 2001
Paloczi Horvath Adam
July 3, 2001 Wednesday - Zenieskola
The music school, which was once a manor house belonging to Paloczi Horvath Adam. There are castles to be explore – Loczy and the look out towers. The lawn has trees to sketch. Trees with fruit, nuts, and spikes. Yesterday morning I met Uri a pianist playing beautiful music with out music sheet. He spoke German and promised to bring me a catalogue of his artwork. I am writing from my dormer window. Vocalized music emanates from the window below. I was able to play around on the piano in the studio. The trees land on the ground and make a graphic representation of music notes. Inspired by Music is a work that I’ve done for the show when I get back home.
The music school, which was once a manor house belonging to Paloczi Horvath Adam. There are castles to be explore – Loczy and the look out towers. The lawn has trees to sketch. Trees with fruit, nuts, and spikes. Yesterday morning I met Uri a pianist playing beautiful music with out music sheet. He spoke German and promised to bring me a catalogue of his artwork. I am writing from my dormer window. Vocalized music emanates from the window below. I was able to play around on the piano in the studio. The trees land on the ground and make a graphic representation of music notes. Inspired by Music is a work that I’ve done for the show when I get back home.
Sunday, July 01, 2001
Sopron, or Budapest -Hungary Residency
35mm contax f2 shot at f2
like the exposure on this.
Love the camera Contax G1.
More stairs photo here: flickr.com/groups/26422974@N00/pool/49136729@N00/
Zenieskola
The music school, which was once a manor house belonging to Paloczi Horvath Adam.
Our works were inspired by music. We did our paintings at the Frence Janos Zenieskola (music school).
Every morning, a piano player plays music. At noon, he would go to draw portraits of tourist for money.
We heard these notes and waves of sound that would be incorporated into our artwork. I made a sculpture that look like a musical instrument. We try out composition on the black board lined for musical notation.
At night I would listen to Schubert’s piano pieces and “Death and the Maiden”. Memories are pressed between these notes and later released here at the lake.
The zenieskola has a rhythm of its own. At noon the trumpet player toots his horn. Arias emanating from below my dormer window along with the morning bird calls.
In the evening, the xylophone players practice his monotonous simple pieces that drove us crazy. Busloads of musician from Belfast play at the lakefront. Musical instrument transported in strange shaped, and ominous color through the Iron Gate. Men came by in mopeds and bicycles. The ever presence of owl hoots near the studio. At night the warm winds rattle the thin tiles. Sometimes there would be silence that accompanies the setting sun against the Red Church.
I meet sz at the park near the lake. Later I vomited into the fountain.
The music school, which was once a manor house belonging to Paloczi Horvath Adam.
Our works were inspired by music. We did our paintings at the Frence Janos Zenieskola (music school).
Every morning, a piano player plays music. At noon, he would go to draw portraits of tourist for money.
We heard these notes and waves of sound that would be incorporated into our artwork. I made a sculpture that look like a musical instrument. We try out composition on the black board lined for musical notation.
At night I would listen to Schubert’s piano pieces and “Death and the Maiden”. Memories are pressed between these notes and later released here at the lake.
The zenieskola has a rhythm of its own. At noon the trumpet player toots his horn. Arias emanating from below my dormer window along with the morning bird calls.
In the evening, the xylophone players practice his monotonous simple pieces that drove us crazy. Busloads of musician from Belfast play at the lakefront. Musical instrument transported in strange shaped, and ominous color through the Iron Gate. Men came by in mopeds and bicycles. The ever presence of owl hoots near the studio. At night the warm winds rattle the thin tiles. Sometimes there would be silence that accompanies the setting sun against the Red Church.
I meet sz at the park near the lake. Later I vomited into the fountain.
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