Marta on the fifth floor

Marta sat down for her portrait the way the queen sits down for tea. Poise, slow gestures, long neck. It was clear that my being allowed to take her picture was a privilege. The artist in me has no objections to this.

Spring called for something colourful she said, pointing out that the frock she was wearing was more than thirty years old. Before I could take her picture Marta showed me photos of her younger self and the three generations of family that she has nurtured these past sixty years or so. I don't know how old Marta is, and it doesn't much matter - for contrary to popular belief, beauty doesn't fade with age. Case in point: Marta on the fifth floor.   

Nagyon szépen köszönöm Marta. It was indeed my privilege. 

It takes two

Almost three years ago we watched Kata and Altug tie the knot in Budapest. It was the first time someone had asked me to photograph their wedding but I was stoked. I showed up with my little Nikon coolpics (don't laugh - that little thing took some wicked photos!) and did my best to document their day.

Looking back, what strikes me most is what a leap Kata and Altug were taking. They were from different countries, spoke different languages, they had never lived together or spent long periods of time together - simply put, these two just jumped. And although they jumped without knowing what was below, they did jump with the right dose of determination and flexibility to make it work. After two years away we returned to a married couple made stronger and wiser by time and love. I think these photos from an afternoon in Buda tell that story all on their own.

  

xo from Angela, Laci and Ati 

a note for Zsuzsi

There is something so promising and inspiring about a young person launching out into the world. Watching our Zsuzsi these past weeks has reminded me how exciting and pivotal certain times in our lives really are.

With her final exams just around the corner, Zsuzsi is planning for her new adventure as a young woman of the world. First stop - Germany - where Zsuzsi will work as an Au Pere and improve her German. December has her marked for a month-long visit to Canada and she's been warned she better not show up without her paint brush. Over lunch last week she casually showed us a photo of a William Turner reproduction she had recently painted that had us floored. Is there anything this girl can't do?
This was her first and only.

So as she embarks on her adventure of many 'firsts' we want to send her off with only two pieces of advice:

make your mark,...

...and remember who you are.

Sok szerenchét Zsuzsi!

The Rug Whipper

Laci and I walk Ati three times a day through the maze of paths and streets that connect our neighbourhood. Living in a neighbourhood built during Hungary's communist period, we experience our streets as variations on a theme, pachelbel's cannon for the eyes - each block outfitted with 5-storey buildings, a school, at least one shop, a playground, and standing lonely outside each building, one of these. 

Having not seen them before I had imagined they were exercise bars of a bygone era and I guess Laci found this amusing because he never corrected me. But this morning I was set straight. With the baby down for his morning nap I heard the thunderous clapping coming from outside our first-floor flat. I raced to the lodga to investigate. There, on the park bench outside...

I learned that my 'exercise bar' had another life. It was the proud holder-upper of heavy, trodden, dust-filled rugs - where the shag underfoot was dragged for a proper spring beating.

When I first arrived all was still. A rug lay in waiting and a paddle nearby. I ran inside for my camera and when I got back a man was hard at work beating the living daylights out of his dining room floor.

Meet Ferenc - willing teacher and master rug whipper - who explained in immaculate English that today he could beat the rugs as he pleased for on  this particular morning his wife was not around to tell him how to beat the rugs.  

He also explained that it was a task to be performed with the utmost of stealth for if he lingered too long at the rug-whipping bar his racket would alert neighbouring women who would surely come out of their homes, rugs in hand, asking if Ference would also kindly whip their rugs clean as well. It quickly became apparent why.

Whipping rugs is hard work.

Really hard work!

And so the seemingly abandoned exercise bars are not so forgotten after all... but whoever hangs out near them does get a workout.

honk if you love to pose

We nearly stopped traffic last week on an industrial stretch of Illatos Way. Niki and Sylvi, two Budapest sisters, could have made a fortune if they had a dollar for every car that honked in passing as they posed. With no common language between us, I felt myself lucky that these two beauties needed little guidance. Here are some of our faves from last week's shoot.    

The Usual Suspects

 The Budapest Zoo in downtown Pest is truly one of the prettiest places I've seen. Almost 150 years old the Zoo has withstood decades of peace and turmoil yet serves as a perfect example of the stunning artistic and architectural heritage that exists in this city. The elephants and hippos are especially lucky - they live in this award winning domed roof building exemplary of Hungarian Art Nouveau.    

 The Zoo suffered a particularly hard blow during the Second World War when it was repeatedly bombed. With only 14 surviving animals the zoo was rebuilt and restored to its former pomp. This isn't a new story for this part of the world but it's a testament to their passion for art, symbolism and persistence.

We thought we'd share with you some of the usual suspects that we met there this week. The new baby giraffe (who unsurprisingly already towers far above our heads) was particularly popular.

xo from Pest