A velencei Magyar Ház 7. Nemzetközi Építészeti Biennálé (Velence, 2000)
it is set above the statue of Beethoven. This hall opened into some other rooms, one of which contained the works of the artists from Gödöllő. (...) To be quite honest, the technical support and supervision we received was in a certain sense a complete failure — and I am not thinking of the toasts delivered at the table. Luckily, I had two friends there, Antal and Alfons Detoma, both born in Italy and scions of a dynasty of stucco craftsmen, who unselfishly and generously helped us out with the ornamental plastering. Without the assistance we received from the Detoma brothers we could hardly have observed our deadline. As a matter of fact, only we Hungarians completed the work by the appointed time. In the end, 1 could barely stand on my feet because of staying up late every day and because of our rather irregular meals, and this state of affairs repeated itself with each and every exhibition. For the very last few days we had to close down the premises as there were too many visitors crowding there, making it impossible to work. Even so, the security guards introduced a very elegant gentleman wearing a short quilted overcoat and brand new sulphur-yellow gloves and who had a cane with a golden handle. I wanted to have him thrown out as quickly as possible, as I was in a black mood after a hard night’s work, but when he introduced himself as Olbrich I was deeply impressed. Needless to say, I was overjoyed to meet this excellent artist who was world famous by then. How sad that he died so young, He was in charge of the German exhibition and we soon became good friends. Our exhibition was an international success. At the opening ceremony, the Italian artists and the members of the ‘Famiglia Artistica’ carried me to the main hall on their shoulders, almost killing me with their kindness and joy. The success did not remain a secret and the savage brutes soon gathered to make their kill. In short, a Hungarian invasion began. They mushroomed out of nowhere, though none Milano I9O6, a nagyterem romjai és az újjáépített pavilon egy vázlata, amelyet Maróti Velencében megismételt Milano, 1906.1 resti della sala grande e un particolare del padiglione ricostruito, che fu ripetuto da Maróti a Venezia Milan, 1906. The ruins of the main hall and detail of the pavilion after its rebuilding, later reconstructed again in Venice of them were to be seen when the work had to be done. They flooded us, travelling at the state’s expense, travelling first class and in wagon-lits, the high officials, the chairmen of various comabout the skinny young man who had fried their meal for them. Still, there were a few exceptions the cathedral. This is where we climbed down from the first-floor shutters and I vaguely recall that Károly Lyka had also been among us, but I might as well keep this a secret. Behind the cathedral, right the lamp posts to provide a cheerful audience for our friends swarming underneath, always ready ,0 ^'Ve a serenac^e This ceremony was repeated night after night, much to the of the curious Italian night-prowlers who sadly realIJ j j colonies woke to cheerful mornings after wonderful . »«pçç. HBM in front of the café there were two large gas-lamps. ****&. VH H ized that both street-lamps were occupied, since the idea appeared to hold quite an appeal for them. I shall here reveal who the standing tenants of these lamps were. One of them was the bohemian, rather famous organist of the cathedral, a veritable representative of Italian mentality, whilst the other, representing our country, was none other than myself, sometimes wearing a scalloped top hat, a relic later auctioned off for some sort of charity. A dear and most elegant friend of ours from Szeged, Rezső Jacohovits was also there. He made quite a career among the Italians, rising to become one of the directors of the Banca Commerciale. He was more than willing to join us in our revelries, although he had some inhibitions at first, especially when it came to changing the signboards. I was reckless with elation as I had at last rid myself of the nightmare of the exhibition. By then, the Italians were willing partners in our fun. Even today, whenever I meet Lyka, we involuntarily start conversing in Italian, to evoke the memory of these wonderful times. (...) ■f/ ■ _• mittees, the conceited good-for-nothings who had Æ êÆÈÈm by then devoured Hungary. Few of them bothered mj -*yy '"V'* 'dÊjÊÊÊÊL^fê-''' among these Hungarian gentlemen. To celebrate the ■1 j/Êj success, both the Hungarian and Italian artists’ ~ ’/ "JUrvPi : parties. The scene was the Orologio café right behind Kf fj| lust before midnight, by the time we had grown ^ PP?: wings, two of us — the go-getters - climbed onto