Comments and Updates on Blue Guide Budapest
Blue Guides celebrate their centenary year with this new edition of Blue Guide Budapest, an in-depth companion to the history, art, architecture, food, wine and thermal baths of this exceptional city.
View the book’s contents, index and some sample pages, and buy securely from blueguides.com here »
Budapest is a city in constant renewal, with important renovation and reconstruction taking place all the time. For updates, as well as reader comments on the new edition, see below.
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Hungarian pioneer of hand-sanitisation
How many of us today, while methodically washing our hands in the hope of staving off Covid-19, think of Ignác Semmelweis? How many of us have even heard of him? Semmelweis (1818–65) is not widely known around the world but he is a familiar name in Hungary. Budapest's medical school is named after him and he has gone down in history as the ‘saviour of mothers’ because his pioneering methods saved many women and infants from death by puerperal fever. Semmelweis’ theories were revolutionary for his time. And now, his insistence on the importance of disinfection to halt the spread of contagion has been brought once again under the spotlight as we are once again reminded of its importance. Semmelweis was ahead of the curve in his grasp of the importance of hand-washing: his hunch was borne out by significant decreases in the rate of mortality on obstetric wards under his supervision. Despite this, his idea was rejected by the established medical community, who were offended by the suggestion that a patient's death could be imputed to the medical staff's personal hygiene. What made things more difficult for Semmelweis was the fact that he was a practitioner, not a scientist. His theory could be explained as a hunch that seemed to work but he had detected nothing through a microscope that could furnish scientific explanation and proof. He never gained the reputation he deserved during his lifetime. In fact he suffered some kind of mental and emotional breakdown and began lashing out in print at the ignorance and obstinacy of the medical fraternity. In the end he was transferred to an asylum in Vienna, a move supported by his wife, who was no longer able to cope with his tantrums. He died very shortly after his admission, perhaps as a result of ill-treatment.
Semmelweis’s former home in Budapest is now a museum of the history of medicine (described in full in Blue Guide Budapest). His theory, of course, is fully recognised today. Named after him is the phenomenon known as the Semmelweis reflex, the human tendency to reject or ridicule new ideas if they fly in the face of accepted convention.
‘The Global Eye’, running at the Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana in Florence until the end of May, is an exhibition devoted to the collection of Dutch, Spanish and Portuguese maps purchased by Cosimo III on his second journey to Holland in 1667–9 (before becoming grand-duke). A conference in November 2019, organised by the Dutch Institute in Florence, illustrated the close ties between the Dutch Republic and Cosimo III, who took a great interest in cross-cultural issues. The 82 maps (a selection of which are on view, accompanied by remarkable digital supports) represent many areas of the known world including parts of Japan, Africa, and even a unique plan dated around 1660 of ‘New Amsterdam’, when still part of the Dutch colony that a few years later was renamed New York, when the British took over. The maps were kept for a hundred years at the Villa di Castello on the outskirts of Florence, seat of the Accademia della Crusca (Cosimo III was an academician of the Crusca and their first dictionary, published in 1691, was dedicated to him in its 3rd edition). The villa itself is not generally open to the public but its garden is one of the most important of all those attached to Medici villas in the surroundings of Florence (and is fully described in Blue Guide Florence). The maps were moved for safety to the Biblioteca Laurenziana in 1921; this is the first time they have been fully studied and a catalogue raisonné provided. Visiting this fascinating small exhibition also gives you the chance to see (off the cloister of San Lorenzo) Michelangelo’s reading room with its famous vestibule, one of the most extraordinary architectural works in Florence.
by Alta Macadam, author of Blue Guide Florence.
‘The Global Eye’, running at the Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana in Florence until the end of May, is an exhibition devoted to the collection of Dutch, Spanish and Portuguese maps purchased by Cosimo III on his second journey to Holland in 1667–9 (before becoming grand-duke). A conference in November 2019, organised by the Dutch Institute in Florence, illustrated the close ties between the Dutch Republic and Cosimo III, who took a great interest in cross-cultural issues. The 82 maps (a selection of which are on view, accompanied by remarkable digital supports) represent many areas of the known world including parts of Japan, Africa, and even a unique plan dated around 1660 of ‘New Amsterdam’, when still part of the Dutch colony that a few years later was renamed New York, when the British took over. The maps were kept for a hundred years at the Villa di Castello on the outskirts of Florence, seat of the Accademia della Crusca (Cosimo III was an academician of the Crusca and their first dictionary, published in 1691, was dedicated to him in its 3rd edition). The villa itself is not generally open to the public but its garden is one of the most important of all those attached to Medici villas in the surroundings of Florence (and is fully described in Blue Guide Florence). The maps were moved for safety to the Biblioteca Laurenziana in 1921; this is the first time they have been fully studied and a catalogue raisonné provided. Visiting this fascinating small exhibition also gives you the chance to see (off the cloister of San Lorenzo) Michelangelo’s reading room with its famous vestibule, one of the most extraordinary architectural works in Florence.
by Alta Macadam, author of Blue Guide Florence.
‘The Global Eye’, running at the Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana in Florence until the end of May, is an exhibition devoted to the collection of Dutch, Spanish and Portuguese maps purchased by Cosimo III on his second journey to Holland in 1667–9 (before becoming grand-duke). A conference in November 2019, organised by the Dutch Institute in Florence, illustrated the close ties between the Dutch Republic and Cosimo III, who took a great interest in cross-cultural issues. The 82 maps (a selection of which are on view, accompanied by remarkable digital supports) represent many areas of the known world including parts of Japan, Africa, and even a unique plan dated around 1660 of ‘New Amsterdam’, when still part of the Dutch colony that a few years later was renamed New York, when the British took over. The maps were kept for a hundred years at the Villa di Castello on the outskirts of Florence, seat of the Accademia della Crusca (Cosimo III was an academician of the Crusca and their first dictionary, published in 1691, was dedicated to him in its 3rd edition). The villa itself is not generally open to the public but its garden is one of the most important of all those attached to Medici villas in the surroundings of Florence (and is fully described in Blue Guide Florence). The maps were moved for safety to the Biblioteca Laurenziana in 1921; this is the first time they have been fully studied and a catalogue raisonné provided. Visiting this fascinating small exhibition also gives you the chance to see (off the cloister of San Lorenzo) Michelangelo’s reading room with its famous vestibule, one of the most extraordinary architectural works in Florence.
by Alta Macadam, author of Blue Guide Florence.
‘The Global Eye’, running at the Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana in Florence until the end of May, is an exhibition devoted to the collection of Dutch, Spanish and Portuguese maps purchased by Cosimo III on his second journey to Holland in 1667–9 (before becoming grand-duke). A conference in November 2019, organised by the Dutch Institute in Florence, illustrated the close ties between the Dutch Republic and Cosimo III, who took a great interest in cross-cultural issues. The 82 maps (a selection of which are on view, accompanied by remarkable digital supports) represent many areas of the known world including parts of Japan, Africa, and even a unique plan dated around 1660 of ‘New Amsterdam’, when still part of the Dutch colony that a few years later was renamed New York, when the British took over. The maps were kept for a hundred years at the Villa di Castello on the outskirts of Florence, seat of the Accademia della Crusca (Cosimo III was an academician of the Crusca and their first dictionary, published in 1691, was dedicated to him in its 3rd edition). The villa itself is not generally open to the public but its garden is one of the most important of all those attached to Medici villas in the surroundings of Florence (and is fully described in Blue Guide Florence). The maps were moved for safety to the Biblioteca Laurenziana in 1921; this is the first time they have been fully studied and a catalogue raisonné provided. Visiting this fascinating small exhibition also gives you the chance to see (off the cloister of San Lorenzo) Michelangelo’s reading room with its famous vestibule, one of the most extraordinary architectural works in Florence.
by Alta Macadam, author of Blue Guide Florence.
With the closure today of the museums and monuments in all of Italy, those of us who visit them also for work are left wondering how such a thing could have happened in our lifetime. We suddenly find ourselves facing a drastic shortage of culture: no libraries, no theatre, no cinema. However, the very direct explanation by Prime Minister Conte late last night made it all too clear how necessary such measures have become in a country where the dreaded Coronavirus is suddenly holding us all hostage. There is no doubt that Italy has trusted leaders in Conte and President Mattarella, and the country’s medical profession are displaying all their dedication and efficiency. There is an evident preparedness in those in places of responsibility and a feeling of teamwork and pulling together in times of emergency. Millions of other Italians have merely been asked to stay at home for the time being. A measure which seems eminently sensible and which should not be a great sacrifice. Who knows how this forced restriction might even foster closer family relationships and make the homes themselves more comfortable. My garden will certainly enjoy greater attention. And with all the benefits of the internet, no one need feel cut off. There is even hope that the closure of museums and monuments will give those great institutions a chance for practicalities impossible when they are open all the time—even if only some radical cleaning, but also perhaps some reorganisation—an almost welcome pause to ‘stand back’ and contemplate themselves and their ‘mission’. I look of course on the rosy side of things, the side for those fortunate enough to have families and homes, but there is a very ugly side of this ‘shut down’, such as the situation in the overcrowded prisons, or that of people cut off from their families who are in hospitals or nursing homes, and the extremely dire economic consequences. This situation is making us all wonder about how we should live our lives in the future, about how long we can expect to enjoy ‘normal’ life in our global world.
For my involvement in the Blue Guides to Italy (Blue Guide Rome has just been published) it means I cannot set off for Venice and the Veneto for work on a volume coming up for revision: a restriction which has been imposed on me for the very first time by circumstances beyond my control (the only other time this happened to me was when I had to cut short a trip for Blue Guide Northern Italy when I was staying in Trieste the day of the terrible earthquake which hit the Friuli in 1976).
We can but hope the virus will soon be dominated with the help of everyone round the world and that we will soon return to a life as we know it, if greatly sobered by what has happened to us all.
Alta Macadam. Florence, 10th March 2020
With the closure today of the museums and monuments in all of Italy, those of us who visit them also for work are left wondering how such a thing could have happened in our lifetime. We suddenly find ourselves facing a drastic shortage of culture: no libraries, no theatre, no cinema. However, the very direct explanation by Prime Minister Conte late last night made it all too clear how necessary such measures have become in a country where the dreaded Coronavirus is suddenly holding us all hostage. There is no doubt that Italy has trusted leaders in Conte and President Mattarella, and the country’s medical profession are displaying all their dedication and efficiency. There is an evident preparedness in those in places of responsibility and a feeling of teamwork and pulling together in times of emergency. Millions of other Italians have merely been asked to stay at home for the time being. A measure which seems eminently sensible and which should not be a great sacrifice. Who knows how this forced restriction might even foster closer family relationships and make the homes themselves more comfortable. My garden will certainly enjoy greater attention. And with all the benefits of the internet, no one need feel cut off. There is even hope that the closure of museums and monuments will give those great institutions a chance for practicalities impossible when they are open all the time—even if only some radical cleaning, but also perhaps some reorganisation—an almost welcome pause to ‘stand back’ and contemplate themselves and their ‘mission’. I look of course on the rosy side of things, the side for those fortunate enough to have families and homes, but there is a very ugly side of this ‘shut down’, such as the situation in the overcrowded prisons, or that of people cut off from their families who are in hospitals or nursing homes, and the extremely dire economic consequences. This situation is making us all wonder about how we should live our lives in the future, about how long we can expect to enjoy ‘normal’ life in our global world.
For my involvement in the Blue Guides to Italy (Blue Guide Rome has just been published) it means I cannot set off for Venice and the Veneto for work on a volume coming up for revision: a restriction which has been imposed on me for the very first time by circumstances beyond my control (the only other time this happened to me was when I had to cut short a trip for Blue Guide Northern Italy when I was staying in Trieste the day of the terrible earthquake which hit the Friuli in 1976).
We can but hope the virus will soon be dominated with the help of everyone round the world and that we will soon return to a life as we know it, if greatly sobered by what has happened to us all.
Alta Macadam. Florence, 10th March 2020
With the closure today of the museums and monuments in all of Italy, those of us who visit them also for work are left wondering how such a thing could have happened in our lifetime. We suddenly find ourselves facing a drastic shortage of culture: no libraries, no theatre, no cinema. However, the very direct explanation by Prime Minister Conte late last night made it all too clear how necessary such measures have become in a country where the dreaded Coronavirus is suddenly holding us all hostage. There is no doubt that Italy has trusted leaders in Conte and President Mattarella, and the country’s medical profession are displaying all their dedication and efficiency. There is an evident preparedness in those in places of responsibility and a feeling of teamwork and pulling together in times of emergency. Millions of other Italians have merely been asked to stay at home for the time being. A measure which seems eminently sensible and which should not be a great sacrifice. Who knows how this forced restriction might even foster closer family relationships and make the homes themselves more comfortable. My garden will certainly enjoy greater attention. And with all the benefits of the internet, no one need feel cut off. There is even hope that the closure of museums and monuments will give those great institutions a chance for practicalities impossible when they are open all the time—even if only some radical cleaning, but also perhaps some reorganisation—an almost welcome pause to ‘stand back’ and contemplate themselves and their ‘mission’. I look of course on the rosy side of things, the side for those fortunate enough to have families and homes, but there is a very ugly side of this ‘shut down’, such as the situation in the overcrowded prisons, or that of people cut off from their families who are in hospitals or nursing homes, and the extremely dire economic consequences. This situation is making us all wonder about how we should live our lives in the future, about how long we can expect to enjoy ‘normal’ life in our global world. For my involvement in the Blue Guides to Italy (Blue Guide Rome has just been published) it means I cannot set off for Venice and the Veneto for work on a volume coming up for revision: a restriction which has been imposed on me for the very first time by circumstances beyond my control (the only other time this happened to me was when I had to cut short a trip for Blue Guide Northern Italy when I was staying in Trieste the day of the terrible earthquake which hit the Friuli in 1976). We can but hope the virus will soon be dominated with the help of everyone round the world and that we will soon return to a life as we know it, if greatly sobered by what has happened to us all. Alta Macadam. Florence, 10th March 2020
With the closure today of the museums and monuments in all of Italy, those of us who visit them also for work are left wondering how such a thing could have happened in our lifetime. We suddenly find ourselves facing a drastic shortage of culture: no libraries, no theatre, no cinema. However, the very direct explanation by Prime Minister Conte late last night made it all too clear how necessary such measures have become in a country where the dreaded Coronavirus is suddenly holding us all hostage. There is no doubt that Italy has trusted leaders in Conte and President Mattarella, and the country’s medical profession are displaying all their dedication and efficiency. There is an evident preparedness in those in places of responsibility and a feeling of teamwork and pulling together in times of emergency. Millions of other Italians have merely been asked to stay at home for the time being. A measure which seems eminently sensible and which should not be a great sacrifice. Who knows how this forced restriction might even foster closer family relationships and make the homes themselves more comfortable. My garden will certainly enjoy greater attention. And with all the benefits of the internet, no one need feel cut off. There is even hope that the closure of museums and monuments will give those great institutions a chance for practicalities impossible when they are open all the time—even if only some radical cleaning, but also perhaps some reorganisation—an almost welcome pause to ‘stand back’ and contemplate themselves and their ‘mission’. I look of course on the rosy side of things, the side for those fortunate enough to have families and homes, but there is a very ugly side of this ‘shut down’, such as the situation in the overcrowded prisons, or that of people cut off from their families who are in hospitals or nursing homes, and the extremely dire economic consequences. This situation is making us all wonder about how we should live our lives in the future, about how long we can expect to enjoy ‘normal’ life in our global world. For my involvement in the Blue Guides to Italy ("Blue Guide Rome" has just been published) it means I cannot set off for Venice and the Veneto for work on a volume coming up for revision: a restriction which has been imposed on me for the very first time by circumstances beyond my control (the only other time this happened to me was when I had to cut short a trip for "Blue Guide Northern Italy" when I was staying in Trieste the day of the terrible earthquake which hit the Friuli in 1976). We can but hope the virus will soon be dominated with the help of everyone round the world and that we will soon return to a life as we know it, if greatly sobered by what has happened to us all. Alta Macadam. Florence, 10th March 2020
With the closure today of the museums and monuments in all of Italy, those of us who visit them also for work are left wondering how such a thing could have happened in our lifetime. We suddenly find ourselves facing a drastic shortage of culture: no libraries, no theatre, no cinema. However, the very direct explanation by Prime Minister Conte late last night made it all too clear how necessary such measures have become in a country where the dreaded Coronavirus is suddenly holding us all hostage. There is no doubt that Italy has trusted leaders in Conte and President Mattarella, and the country’s medical profession are displaying all their dedication and efficiency. There is an evident preparedness in those in places of responsibility and a feeling of teamwork and pulling together in times of emergency. Millions of other Italians have merely been asked to stay at home for the time being. A measure which seems eminently sensible and which should not be a great sacrifice. Who knows how this forced restriction might even foster closer family relationships and make the homes themselves more comfortable. My garden will certainly enjoy greater attention. And with all the benefits of the internet, no one need feel cut off. There is even hope that the closure of museums and monuments will give those great institutions a chance for practicalities impossible when they are open all the time—even if only some radical cleaning, but also perhaps some reorganisation—an almost welcome pause to ‘stand back’ and contemplate themselves and their ‘mission’. I look of course on the rosy side of things, the side for those fortunate enough to have families and homes, but there is a very ugly side of this ‘shut down’, such as the situation in the overcrowded prisons, or that of people cut off from their families who are in hospitals or nursing homes, and the extremely dire economic consequences. This situation is making us all wonder about how we should live our lives in the future, about how long we can expect to enjoy ‘normal’ life in our global world. For my involvement in the Blue Guides to Italy ("Blue Guide Rome" has just been published) it means I cannot set off for Venice and the Veneto for work on a volume coming up for revision: a restriction which has been imposed on me for the very first time by circumstances beyond my control (the only other time this happened to me was when I had to cut short a trip for "Blue Guide Northern Italy" when I was staying in Trieste the day of the terrible earthquake which hit the Friuli in 1976). We can but hope the virus will soon be dominated with the help of everyone round the world and that we will soon return to a life as we know it, if greatly sobered by what has happened to us all. Alta Macadam. Florence, 10th March 2020
József Nádor tér
This pleasant square in downtown Pest, enclosed on three sides by stately buildings, is once again an open public space. After a lengthy restoration (and the opening of an underground car park) it can now be enjoyed as a mini park, with flower beds, patches of lawn, a sprinkling of benches and a tinkling of two fountains designed by Hungary's premier ceramics and porcelain manufactories, Zsolnay and Herend. The Herend fountain is in the shape of a tree in luxuriant bud. The Zsolany fountain (pictured) is encrusted with polychrome tiles depicting water fowl. In the centre of the garden is the statue of Archduke Joseph, Palatine of Hungary, after whom the square takes its name. Joseph, son of Leopold II of Austria, was the emperor's viceroy in Hungary, a role which he played with considerable aplomb. He set up a body known as the Beautification Committee in 1808, responsible for town planning, and it is to him and his architects that we owe the layout of much of present-day Pest. It might be fair to say that he is the only member of the Habsburg dynasty whose rule the Hungarians every fully tolerated. His grand-daughter Stephanie was to marry the Crown Prince Rudolf, who shot himself in a suicide pact in a hunting lodge at Mayerling in 1889. But that's another story.
Congratulations
Congratulations on your impressive attempt to describe the soul of the city. In the bookshop of the Szépmuvészeti Múzeum your city-guide (in fact it is much more than a city-guide) was the only serious guide to buy (besides the beautiful "A Martian's Guide to Budapest" by Antal Szerb). Your impressive "work of art" contains such a wealth of ideas that I decided to "do Budapest" this year "your way". I have been to Budapest several times, but now I have seen a different city. Thank you so much for sharing your marvelous and fantastic knowledge.
Imre Nagy statue
One of the most popular public sculptures in Budapest, Tamás Varga's statue of the Communist leader Imre Nagy, which stood close to the Hungarian Parliament, has been removed as part of a plan to redevelop the area. The sculptor had placed his subject leaning on the parapet of a round-backed, Japanese-style bridge, which spanned a small pool: people loved posing next to him. Imre Nagy, who became Prime Minister after the death of Stalin and announced a programme of reform, was eventually betrayed by his own party, arrested by the KGB after the 1956 Uprising, hanged in 1958 and ignominiously buried in an unmarked grave. His exhumation, reburial and posthumous rehabilitation in June 1989 was a cathartic moment for the nation. 2019 is an anniversary year of that event and it has been promised that the statue will be re-erected in good time in the new site that has been chosen for it, close to the Pest side of Margaret Bridge.
Fine Arts Museum acquires a Van Dyck
Van Dyck's portrait of Mary, the Princess Royal, eldest daughter of Charles I of England, sister of the future Charles II and James II, has now gone on display at the Museum of Fine Arts (Szépművészeti Múzeum). It was bought at a Christie's auction at the end of 2018. The work was painted in 1641, the last year of Van Dyck's life. It shows a very young princess, not quite ten years old, and was painted to mark her marriage to the Prince of Orange, who was only a few years older. The sitter's slightly awkward pose is accentuated by the fact that the position of her right hand against her stomach has been altered. Mary's husband died in 1650, the same year that her son, the future William III of England, was born. She herself just lived to see her brother Charles's restoration, but died in the same year (1660) of smallpox. She was 29. This stunning portrait marks an important addition to the museum's holdings of 17th-century European art.
Budapest Museum of Fine Arts
Since October last year, the Budapest Museum of Fine Arts (Szépművészeti Múzeum) is once again open to the public. The project of re-hanging and rearranging is still ongoing: when finally complete, the museum will present the full spectrum of European art and sculpture from 1100 to 1800, as well as Budapest's holdings of Classical antiquities. At present the treasures of Ancient Egypt, the Hellenic world and Rome are on display in the basement; European (non-Hungarian) Old Masters (1200-1600) are on the first floor; European Sculpture (1350-1800) is on the second floor; and on the top floor are some (rather cramped) rooms with displays of Hungarian 17th- and 18th-century painting and sculpture moved here from the Hungarian National Gallery on Castle Hill. A full review of the new displays will appear on this website in due course. We will continue to add updates about the merging of the Hungarian and non-Hungarian art collections when information is available (at the time of writing, Hungarian medieval and Renaissance artworks now in the National Gallery were scheduled to arrive here in the autumn of 2019). The Romanesque Hall, once used as a cast gallery and now lovingly restored as a temporary exhibitions and events space, has been written about already on this site (see the Hungary section under "All articles and reviews").
If you knew and loved the Museum of Fine Arts before its restoration, you will not be disappointed with the results in the Old Masters section. The excellent and representative collection is still all there, beautifully displayed and captioned. Highlights include a superb Giorgione, works by Raphael, several glorious El Grecos, rich holdings of Italian and Netherlandish art (excellent Cranach), and a small bronze "Horse and Rider" by Leonardo da Vinci. The painting illustrated here is a panel from the predella of an altarpiece painted for the Florentine guild of wool merchants by the 15th-century Sienese artist Sassetta. It shows Thomas Aquinas in prayer before an altar as the dove of the Holy Spirit (clearly seen against the pale yellow double doors) shoots towards his heart. Beyond is a tranquil cloister with a central well, and to the right, a transept chapel whose pews are laden with psalters and breviaries. The altarpiece was dismembered and this is one of seven such panels now dispersed around the world (two others are in Siena, one in the Vatican and another in Melbourne).
The new Szépművészeti now has a system of lockers instead of the old-fashioned garderobe (you will need a 100Ft coin, which you get back when you pick up your items). It is also possible to buy tickets online via jegymester.hu, which saves having to stand in what used to be horribly slow-moving queues. There is a café in the basement, the Fine Art Bistro (a little gloomy--or perhaps I am being picky) and an excellent shop.
The György Ráth Villa
Closed for some years, this former home of the art collector and director of the Museum of Applied Arts has now reopened with a stunning new permanent exhibition on Art Nouveau. You can find a review of the show on the Reviews page of this website.
The Orczy Garden
Overlooked on one side by the Semmelweis University tower, the first skyscraper in Budapest (89m, built in 1976) and by the elegant Neoclassical façade of the former Ludovika Military Academy on the other (now home to the Public Service University), work on replanting the Orczy Garden at the far edge of Budapest's District VIII is finally complete and the park is open to the public. The space was originally laid out in the English manner in the 18th century, by the barons Orczy (a descendant, Baroness Orczy, wrote the famous novel "The Scarlet Pimpernel"). It has now been restored to a semblance of the kind of beautiful manicured wilderness that was so popular in the Romantic era. There is an expansive central lawn, shady chestnut trees, a small lake (with rowing boats for hire), a café, fountain, running track and statuary. The picture shown here shows park keepers in a cherry picker cleaning the statue group of Lajos Kossuth and other revolutionary Hungarian heroes.
Budapest Zoo
The Biodome at the Zoo, on the edge of City Park, has left the drawing board and is under construction.
Gül Baba's Mausoleum
The renovation of the türbe of the dervish Gül Baba, who died in the same year as the Ottoman conquest of Buda (1541) and which is a project partly financed by the Turkish government, is now partially complete and open to the public. This is a holy site for Muslims and re-landscaping of the gardens around the small mausoleum has been extensive. You approach up a flight of new stone-clad steps, past terraced plots (Magnolia Garden, Lavender Garden, Rose Garden, all planted with the said plants) to a paved area with a commemorative chestnut tree, a brand new visitor centre and a starkly paved broad forecourt. The tiny little türbe is now completely enclosed and partly obscured by the new buildings: getting a good view of it is difficult. A promenade walkway leads to the edge of the hill, from where there are fine views (as shown in the illustration here: the spire of the Matthias Church and the Royal Palace (National Gallery) are prominent in the distance). As yet the türbe itself is still inaccessible.
THE SEUSO TREASURE
When Blue Guide Budapest went to press, the extraordinary trove of late Imperial Roman silver known as the Seuso (or Sevso) Treasure had not yet gone on public display. As of yesterday, it is on show in the Hungarian National Museum, well lit and excellently captioned, in a separate room on the first floor. We have written about the silver more than once on this website: a fully updated post will appear shortly. Meanwhile, below, is a detail from one of the pieces of the hoard, the beautiful strigilated washbasin.
Andrássy út
The old Párizsi department store, with the late 19th-century frescoed ballroom of the former Terézváros Club (Blue Guide Budapest pp. 197-8), has now found a new role as the "Andrássy Adventure Centre" with the TeamLab Future Park, an interactive experience aimed at children. The frescoed Lotz Room upstairs at the back, until recently a café, is at present empty but there are apparently plans to reopen it as a café again. Ask at the ticket desk to be allowed to go and look at it (there is no charge but you can't go beyond the cordon at the entrance). Still, it is worth it; the room is resplendent with mirrors and gilding and the frescoes are splendid, by Károly Lotz, the foremost decorative painter of his day, and assistants including Árpád Feszty. Feszty's brother Adolf, incidentally, was the architect of many of the fine town houses that line Andrássy út itself. The likeness that appears as one of the personifications of the arts and industries around the cornice (the joiner; very grainy photo taken from too far away) is said to be a self-portrait by Árpád Feszty. But it could equally well be his brother.
Soviet labour camp memorials
The English word Gulag is commonly used to denote the Soviet forced labour and internment camps of the post-WWII period. In fact there were two categories of such camps, both of them designated by a Russian acronym. There were the GUPVI camps, to which prisoners were deported en masse, and the GULAGs, where individuals were sent, often as a result of arrests on trumped-up charges. There are memorials in Budapest to the victims of each, clearly distinguishing between the two. In the heart of central Pest, very close to the Parliament building, is Honvéd tér, a square containing a playground and beautifully maintained public park, planted with ornamental trees and shrubs including a lovely Japanese maple. Here you will find the GULAG memorial, set up here in 1993. It takes the form of a stylised figure in Carrara marble, criss-crossed with stylised barbed wire. Further from the centre in Ferencváros, occupying a wartime concrete bunker designed for head personnel of the Hungarian Railways, is the Malenki Robot Memorial, curated and maintained by the Hungarian National Museum and honouring prisoners of the GUPVI camps. Blue Guide Budapest has the contact details for arranging a guided tour. Outside the old bunker is a railway wagon adorned with relief sculptures of the deported.
Dandár Baths
A tip for those who plan to visit the Dandár Baths: bring a bank card with you. The downstairs buffet has recently stopped taking cash. Another thing you might take along is a set of chess pieces. The hotter of the outdoor hot pools is equipped with a chessboard and when we last visited, players had been making do with dark and light pebbles.
Blaha Lujza tér
As plans to rehabilitate Blaha Lujza tér, a wide and busy square in the heart of Pest, take shape, the removal of the 1960s’ aluminium cladding on the Corvin department store finally began yesterday (23rd May). The store, an elegant and fashionable emporium in its heyday, was built in the 1920s and was an excellent example of the new architectural Historicism that was popular in Hungary after the First World War. Now, as the aluminium panels come down, a grimy former splendour is being gradually revealed: ionic pilasters, a running key pattern, Neoclassical medallions and a mask of Hermes. The building, badly damaged in the 1956 Uprising, was never restored. Instead, in 1968, its battered lineaments were encased in functional metal sheeting. A full-scale renovation of the building is planned. According to the Józsefváros (8th District) local government website, the newly restored building will be used for cafés, restaurants and offices. Blaha Lujza tér was also once the site of another grand building, the National Theatre, which was demolished in 1965 during the construction of the M2 metro line.