GÁBOR REMSEY (Gödöllő, 20 July 1925 – Gödöllő, 6 February 1999)
Throughout his life, Gábor Remsey was the most “Gödöllő-born” resident of Gödöllő to ever pick up a drawing tool. He was born and passed away in this small town, returning his soul to his Creator. The sights of his homeland, which he witnessed during his childhood and which his painter father drew his attention to, along with the influences of his father’s artist friends, left an indelible mark on him. He preserved these memories until his death. His father was the painter Jenő György Remsey, and his mother was Vilma Frey, a textile artist who worked at the Gödöllő weaving workshop. As the third child, he had plenty to learn from his sister Ágnes and his brother Iván. From his artist parents, he inherited many talents, artistic and human sensitivity, and a willingness to help others. He also carried forward his ancestors’ love of nature and that of the Gödöllő Artist Colony members. The inseparable bond between art and a love of life and nature, as exemplified by artists like Aladár Körösfői-Kriesch, Sándor Nagy, and others, guided him as well. For him—just as it was for the notable members of the Artist Colony who maintained close ties with the family—art and life were inseparable, walking hand in hand. It was a way of life.
Although he travelled to England, Austria, and Transylvania, these were study trips, and they only served to make him value the artistic essence of Gödöllő even more. The town and its residents became lifelong sources of inspiration for him. The quiet little streets with their houses, the small homes clustered around tiny squares, the tattered rooftops, and the wide-open gates became his key motifs. He sought to preserve in his heart and art the remnants of a human world—destroyed by others without thought—that had once been the backdrop to his beautiful childhood. He lovingly immortalized houses and homes on the brink of collapse, where the tiles never broke all at once, and the fences never fell apart at the same time, much like autumn leaves shedding from trees. In his etchings, the roofs of houses seemed ready to collapse, just like the tired, worn-out, and world-weary people who could no longer or would no longer carry the burdens of life. Time and time again, he marvelled at this lost world of Atlantis, the old Gödöllő. In his contemplative graphics, one common theme emerged: the depiction of an Edenic world, portraying the decaying wealth and last remnants of his old hometown.
Károly Lábadi
etnographer