Ferenc Baráth

graphic artist
Kanjiža, 8 August 1946
Corresponding member of the Hungarian Academy of Arts (2014–2019)
Full member of the Hungarian Academy of Arts (2019–)
Zsófia Emma Szabó: Graphic Artist Ferenc Baráth

Internationally renowned master of contemporary poster art in Central Europe. His career began in 1965 at the intellectual Forum Publishing House in Novi Sad, and it was in the progressive environment of the Új Symposion magazine that he first received decisive guidance. In the course of his life’s work, he created a form and found an artistic space within artistic genres that aligned with the socially responsible and inviting ethos of avant-garde art. The model of ethical artistic behaviour in this way may have influenced him through Lajos Kassák, who was a decisive influence on the early stages of his artistic development and who turned to the young designer’s work after noticing the magazine’s graphic design. After a brief professional detour—he studied painting at the Belgrade University of Fine Arts for two years—he designed posters for the Novi Sad Theatre (and other theatres) and became one of the leading poster artists in the then Yugoslavia in the 1970s and 1980s, receiving the October Prize of the City of Novi Sad in 1983, a distinction almost equivalent to the Munkácsy Prize in Hungary. In 1986, he was the only graphic artist among the 11 most outstanding artists in Yugoslavia to be featured in the magazine ULUPUDS (Union of Serbian Industrialists and Designers) and in 1987, his 1984 work Egy kis udvarházban (In a Small Mansion House) was selected for the collection of the MoMA (Museum of Modern Art) in New York. He was also in contact with designers in Hungary (e.g. DOPP group), and after his resettlement in 1992, his professional career continued organically: among many other professional awards, he won the main prize at the Graphic Biennale in Békéscsaba in 1996 and was awarded the Munkácsy Mihály Prize in 2000.

In spite of the inherently appealing or rather provocative poster language of the genre, the oeuvre is clearly on an intellectual level, situated in the world of high art, since Baráth’s works, as artist posters that almost never appear on the street, can reach and address primarily the visually educated audience of theatre premieres or exhibition halls: His posters are elegant—in the sense of the word literacy and elitism, and they also presuppose and even expect from the viewer a desire and culture of reception (István Orosz refers to an ivory tower in connection with his poster art). His “branding” or “brand forming” is also of an artistic nature, as the results of his consistent artistic vision have condensed over the decades into a coherent and distinctive style. He has not become subservient to any commission.

The formal characteristic of his posters is the predominance of the horizontal format, a feature of his oeuvre as a whole that he increasingly abandoned from the 2000s onwards. The use of photography is essential both as a source of inspiration and as an organising element in many of the posters. He worked with photographer László Dormán on the theatre posters of the 1970s and 1980s, but Baráth has also developed his own collection of found images and photo series with a strong message for him. Often, the process of designing a montage begins by considering the possible role of a photo within it. In other cases, the visual idea comes first, and the photo has to be found or even made.

The combined use of photography and graphics is a constant and characteristic feature of his posters (Cseresznyéskert [Cherry Orchard], 1979, Krakpatrik, 1985), often in the interplay of monochrome photography and colour graphics or manipulation (Chopin és Liszt-emlékév [Chopin and Liszt Memorial Year], 2010), but beyond the striking formal contrast, he can bring the aura of the photograph into the poster’s functioning and through it to put new energies and other spaces at the service of the image.

The behaviour of the shadow is characteristic; it does not remain a cast shadow but interprets the poster (Iskolakultúra [School Culture], 2001; Thealter, 2008), its proportions do not correspond to the “real” shadow proportions, but there are also examples of it indicating duration, movement (Mala, 1988). Thematically, this includes shadow images—also a common phenomenon in Baráth posters—which function with varying and uncertain spatiality/quality: sometimes as gaps (Thealter, 1997; Thealter, 2002), sometimes—perhaps—as surfaces (Lysistrate, 1991; János vitéz, [Johnny Corncob] 2012).

The possibility of interpreting his frequently used motifs (eyes, hands, wings, birds, tiger, rat, cat) as general symbols (e.g. Pariska komuna, 1988; Turandot, 1995) is the most striking feature of his posters, to which the viewer can easily relate each time, in order to actualise and differentiate the meaning in the space of the work (poster, or perhaps the play)—this enrichment is facilitated by examining the modulations of the symbols in the series of posters.

In some posters, strong visual imagery conveys clear, symbolic statements akin to proverbs and fairy tales, with a surrealistic twist. The artistic references he uses include specific surrealist poster quotations (Tetsuo Miyahara: Jazz St. Germain, 1968; cf. A Trubadúr [The Troubadour], 1991). Whether it is a quotation or whether the same context was found independently of each other is perhaps irrelevant: the viewer can sense the methodological identity behind the similarity of the formal solution.

In his theatre posters, using the text of the drama as primary source is fundamental, the interpretation of the play by the director, the collaboration with him is also essential, but he is not present in the rehearsal process and his posters are always about more than the specific performance: they interpret the text of the drama and give an autonomous, original reading, enriching and universalising the given production.

He refers to his own works as decorative posters, which do not contain detailed information but rather serve a representative function, according to Tibor Zalán’s interpretation: “...his system of pictorial metaphors and symbols was never bound by anything; he could boldly state and suggest anything on his posters. And being a poster, its existence was as much an event as the performance itself.”

Baráth’s poster series are mainly theatre-related. His career began in 1973 with the first poster commission from the Novi Sad Theatre, where the young artist, who had been experimenting in various artistic fields, decided to work in theatre poster design, designing posters for the theatre for 20 years until the beginning of the Yugoslav Wars. Emblematic works were produced in this period (Bayer aszpirin [Bayer Aspirin], 1981; Tóték [The Toth Family], 1986; A bolond lány [The Idiot], 1990; Paripacitrom [Palfrey Droppings], 1990), including, for example, posters for Atelje 212 in Belgrade, manipulating a specific political message (Pred ogledalom, 1986; Himna, 1988).

The Thealter (International Meeting of Free Theatres, 1990–), the Szeged festival that has been marked by Baráth’s poster every year for more than twenty years, is a special commission. In this case, the designer does not even have to stick to the text of a particular play, but can convey the spirit of the festival through his own means. These posters are the result of free association games, giving the artist the freest possible scope for design.

A tender, almost melancholic poster series about the theatre of Josef Nadj was produced in 2002, thematising rhythm, movement, attention, and contingency, based on the performances of the world-famous choreographer and movement artist.

A distinctive line in his art is represented by his space graphics. These objects, constructed of brightly coloured wooden panels with geometric shapes, make his affinity with Constructivism evident once again, their transience a descendant of Kassák’s pictorial architectures, only on a different platform. They first appeared in his works during his search for form before his commitment to the poster, but reappeared in the 2000s.

Analysing his posters—in fact, going in any direction—we find familiar components: he uses generally known, highly saturated motifs, his visual messages verbally formulated, verbally spoken, even clichés (Katalin Bakos: Design Barath... Új művészet, 1992, 38). His compositional method is also evident in earlier works: his montages and unexpected, sometimes drastic (image) associations evoke images of surrealism and Dada. The use of strong colours, the drama of contrasts (monochrome and colour, graphics, and photography), the use of symmetry and sometimes a slight departure from symmetry, the montage effect created by the use of photography—all these are classic poster design solutions, but the fact that none of these features is very familiar explains the phenomenon of the Baráth poster in itself. The writer Ferenc Deák sees the key to Baráth’s art in the interactions between the elements: “the kinetics set in motion between the measured, rational solutions”.

He applies the conclusions of 20th-century art, freely drawing on the formal and methodological achievements of various avant-garde movements. As he interacts with motifs and images with universally known meanings, and then captures these almost oversaturated meanings in his posters, which are strictly neutral in space and mostly monochrome: “he achieves the effect by means of contrast: silence, large, clean, sombre surfaces” (Ottó Tolnai), he creates a universal and timeless visual fusion in his best works. Ferenc Baráth’s posters will thus have a dual function: they will serve as an accompaniment to the current play or event, but their message and visual appeal will remain valid even after the performances and the passage of time. They act as posters: they capture the viewer’s attention, so that, experiencing the power of the image’s function, their attention turns inwards and the function of reception begins to engage them, to make them think and reflect on themselves.

[2016]