“Sculpture is a passion. One must practise it constantly. To become a good sculptor, nothing more is required than a love of the material, the ability to dream, and the capacity to empathise with wood, metal, and stone.” (Tibor Kolozsi)
Tibor Kolozsi was born in April 1965 in Ditrău (Gyergyóditró), Harghita County, in what might be described as an inspired environment: at the foot of the mountains, amid precipitous heights and dense forests, in the Gheorgheni Basin (Gyergyói-medence), so often enveloped in mist that lends the entire landscape an air of mystery. Ditrău itself is a place steeped in the imprints of history and legend, where wonders may still occur even in everyday life, and where the landscape leaves a lasting mark on all those born there, especially if they are artists. By his own account, as a very young child, when he first encountered a sculpture, he not only sensed but knew that this was what he wished to devote himself to; he remained faithful to this calling thereafter and gradually brought his craft to perfection. According to his recollections, the first ‘sculpture’ to emerge from his hands was made of curd cheese and depicted a cat. How Tibor Kolozsi progressed from this early small-scale work to his bronze and stone sculptures, and to his accomplished practice as a restorer, is what this brief study sets out to explore. It may be stated at the outset that among contemporary Transylvanian sculptors Kolozsi is perhaps the most enigmatic, yet at the same time the one with the most restrained and distilled style, whose public sculptures and other works are readily recognisable even to those who have encountered only a few of them. His sculptures have been shown to audiences in Romania, Hungary, and abroad, and will continue to be shown in the future, as he approaches a milestone stage of his career and promises new works which, he hopes, will reach a wide public in the years to come.
He began his fine-art studies in 1975 in Târgu Mureș (Marosvásárhely) at the then Secondary School of Art, where he remained a student until 1983 and successfully completed his school-leaving examinations. This educational institution, and the intellectual ethos it represented, proved as formative in his life as it did in the lives of its earlier and later pupils alike, and it may justly be said that the influence of this school is inescapable in everything Tibor Kolozsi has achieved over the course of his career to date.
The Secondary School of Art in Târgu Mureș traces its origins to 1949. In the autumn of that year, as a result of political changes and educational reforms, the former municipal painting school was transformed into a state vocational secondary school, initially operating under the name Secondary School of Music, Ballet, and Fine Arts. The fine arts department was launched under the direction of sculptor Márton Izsák (1913–2004) and painter András Bordy (1905–1989), and for several decades the institution was led by Márton Izsák as its inspired and perceptive director. Among the founding teachers were painters István Barabás, István Incze, and Gábor Piskolti, as well as the sculptor József Nagy. Although during Kolozsi’s student years the school was no longer directed by Márton Izsák, his influence and intellectual legacy undoubtedly remained present within the walls of the alma mater. Alongside outstanding theoreticians, students of the art school were provided with rigorous practical training, as art historian Zoltán Vécsi Nagy notes in one of his studies: “By carrying forward studio-based practice, the teachers consistently encouraged students to produce intensive realist studies and to approach compositional tasks through classical solutions that sought to reanimate scenes drawn from life. At the same time, by allowing subjective variations on these academic methods and fostering individual interpretations, they made artistic study more engaging and more creative.” In sum, the teachers of the school – many of them practising and exhibiting artists – pursued the artistic education of their students in individual and therefore richly varied ways, all grounded in a shared tradition.
It was at this institution that Tibor Kolozsi first became acquainted with the life and work of the sculptor who, by his own admission, exerted a profound influence on him: Viktor Román, whose work he encountered during one of the practical classes. As he recalls, the encounter unfolded as follows: “At the secondary school in Târgu Mureș, where I too set out on the path of sculpture, a whole host of legends were already in circulation about Viktor Román. At that time I was an eleven-year-old schoolboy. In most school sculpture studios one finds various classical models, usually from the world of ancient Greek culture, though one could also come across other kinds of examples; these were generally of a quality that met the standard required for them to serve as models worth following. For each sculpture it was necessary to know its name or title, and also which sculptural group it formed part of – these details were simply part of the curriculum. In this collection I discovered a smaller plaster model depicting a clothed female figure. Somehow it was evident that it did not come from the Hellenistic cultural sphere. My curiosity gnawed at me so strongly that I had to ask my teachers who had made the plaster model. And then an avalanche of information began, starting with: ‘Well, my boy, that sculpture is the work of Viktor Román!’ It continued with all the stories I needed to know about the great sculptor who lived in Paris and had once started out at our school. I learned that he had been born in Mărtiniș (Homoródszentmárton), and that even as a pupil he was so gifted that headmaster Márton Izsák – himself a sculptor – would very readily call him in to assist in his studio. In such cases it did not matter what theoretical class Viktor happened to be in: the teacher concerned had to let him go, whether it was mathematics or Romanian literature. I considered this a major feat. […] Information about his achievements continued to reach our school; after all, it was not often that lads like us achieved success in Paris. If, over time, I forgot something in the story, it was enough to pretend that I was asking another teacher about the origin of the statue for the first time, and then I could hear the legend again from beginning to end. Meanwhile I realised that each of my teachers remembered different details. Thus, already in secondary school, I came to know the main stations of Viktor Román’s life. Later, when I was an older student, I too could give curious newcomers some guidance about the provenance of the plaster model.”
It is important to note that Tibor Kolozsi was a student at the Secondary School of Art in Târgu Mureș at a time when the communist regime was still firmly in place in Romania, and when students generally had limited exposure to impulses from abroad. Art students, however, constituted a fortunate exception: the universality of the visual arts could not be entirely called into question even by the regime, a circumstance owing not least to the outstanding teacher personalities who taught at the school. Alongside Viktor Román, a number of other exemplars, masters, and teachers also played a guiding role in the formation of his artistic path and convictions, to which I shall return later.
The next major stage in Tibor Kolozsi’s life unfolded at the Ion Andreescu University of Fine Arts in Cluj-Napoca (Kolozsvár) – today the University of Art and Design – where, after several attempts, he was admitted in 1985 to the sculpture programme. During his five years of study there (1985–1990), he obtained qualifications both as a sculptor and as a teacher. It was here, at the university in Cluj-Napoca, that he experienced a revelatory ‘second encounter’ with the art of Viktor Román, which he recalls in the following way: “I must already have been a college student, a sculpture major, when I had the chance to leaf through the first catalogue of Viktor Román. I was given it in the studio of the painter András Gaál, accompanied by the remark: ‘Take a look – this is real sculpture; it’s not like what you usually find around here.’ And then I was able to listen once again to a new version of the familiar legend. It turned out that they were close friends and, of course, had gone to secondary school together. I agreed with him entirely in his assessment of quality; it was an exceptional experience – I had never seen sculptures like these before. Naturally, as part of our studies we were given the basic information about modern sculpture, and from time to time we could gain access to foreign catalogues, but what I was holding in my hands possessed an almost magical power. Then came the encore. András Gaál reached up to his bookshelf and took down a small bronze sculpture, barely more than ten centimetres high, which closely resembled the works in the catalogue. I was not mistaken – I was allowed to hold an original small sculpture by Viktor Román in my hands. The experience itself was pure ecstasy; I ran my fingers over it, and it was very hard to give it back. It was a good day. I left the studio filled with euphoria. For years afterwards, the images from the catalogue hovered before my eyes, and for a long time I felt that I wanted to create similar sculptures – not the same ones, but similar. It never worked. I was unable to create a piece with which I was even remotely satisfied; perhaps because I had seen too early what the pinnacle of sculpture truly is.”
Naturally, alongside the already mentioned Viktor Román – whom he was able to meet in person after 1989, more precisely in 1993, on the occasion of a group exhibition in France at the artists’ colony in Nogent-sur-Marne – Kolozsi also refers to several other teachers and artists as exemplars and sources of guidance who influenced him profoundly, both as a creator and as a human being, and shaped him as an artist.
In this connection, and without any claim to completeness, the following figures deserve particular mention: the sculptor Endre Adorjáni, who currently lives in Szekszárd and continues to work as a teacher; the sculptor Levente Kiss, born in Suseni (Gyergyóújfalu) and now living in Târgu Mureș; the sculptor István Gergely (1939–2008); and Eugen Gocan (1939–2013), who was among his teachers at the Ion Andreescu University of Fine Arts in Cluj-Napoca. Also noteworthy is Jenő Korondi (1935–2007), a defining and innovative figure of contemporary Transylvanian Hungarian sculpture, who through his work as a college lecturer between 1965 and 1990 set generations on the path of modern sculpture. His artistic development was further influenced by Ádám Farkas, the Hungarian sculptor and university professor awarded the title Artist of the Nation as well as the Kossuth and Munkácsy Mihály Prizes; by the painter Cs. Tibor Erdős (1914–2015), who between 1945 and 1959 was a founding member and teacher of the School of Fine Arts in Oradea (Nagyvárad) and also a founding member and teacher of the Hungarian College of Fine Arts in Cluj; and by György Jovánovics of Budapest, one of the major figures of the Hungarian neo-avant-garde.
Nor can it be regarded as coincidental that, shortly after completing his university studies, Kolozsi joined the teaching staff of the same institution, and that he continues to teach sculpture there today, at the University of Art and Design in Cluj-Napoca. For reasons of space, it is not possible in the present study to address all those sculptors of the younger and middle generations upon whom he has had an influence, both as a teacher and as an artist.
The above-mentioned György Jovánovics served as the supervisor of his doctoral thesis, entitled Portré (lit. Portrait), which, alongside the theoretical study, also comprised a series of artistic works related to the subject. Kolozsi was awarded his doctoral degree in Budapest in 2004, and this qualification was formally recognised a year later, in 2005, by the Romanian Ministry of Education and Research. It was likewise during his university years that his deepening engagement with restoration work took shape. As he explained in one of our interviews, this ‘additional profession’ emerged almost naturally, since who could be better suited to the restoration of bronze or stone sculptures, or of the stone elements of architectural monuments, than a sculptor who knows the material and the craft in depth and in detail. In this context, he is the author of several studies, including analyses of the techniques and processes involved in the restoration of the King Matthias statue group in Cluj-Napoca, as well as accounts of the restoration of the stone façade of the Roman Catholic Church of Saint Joseph of Calasanz in Carei (Nagykároly). He has also published numerous further studies on related topics in Romanian, Hungarian, and international professional journals and forums.
There is no doubt that Tibor Kolozsi is today one of the most highly regarded stone and metal restorers working in Transylvania. He carried out the restoration of the Statue of Liberty in Arad, a work by György Zala, which was re-erected in 2004 after having been stored for decades in unworthy conditions. In 2010 he completed the restoration of János Fadrusz’s monumental Matthias statue group on the Main Square of Cluj-Napoca, and even undertook part of the post-restoration work – including the waxing of the sculpture group – at his own expense, after the commissioning body failed to make provision for it. Perhaps the most impressive restoration project of his career to date – carried out together with his sons, the likewise professionally trained Tibor Kolozsi Jr and Erik Kolozsi – is the restoration of the stone elements of St Michael’s Church in Cluj-Napoca; yet this is by no means either the beginning or the end of the list of his restoration achievements.
Perhaps the most demanding aspect of sculpture lies in coming to terms with the material, and in the process through which the ‘emerging’ artist discovers the one that suits them best – the material through which their creative ideas and visions can be articulated with the greatest precision. One might also say that every artist must find their own language, and in sculpture the trinity of this language consists of material, form, and light – or harmony. As is clear from Tibor Kolozsi’s previously cited reflections, he recognised relatively early on that bronze and stone were the materials most congenial to him. As for the forms he ‘activates’ or brings into being, their roots lie in classical sculpture, though not necessarily in ancient Greek or Roman models, but rather in even earlier Mesopotamian and Egyptian antecedents – or, if one prefers, in the world of archaic sculpture, which only a self-satisfied posterity could dismiss as ‘primitive’. All this may be summarised by saying that Kolozsi has committed himself to a modern rearticulation of archaic forms and modes of expression; this is the artistic language that is authentic to him, and through which the meaning and message of the works he ‘signs’ acquire their own authenticity. The result is a distinctive synthesis that opens up, or brings to the surface, multiple layers of meaning for the viewer, inevitably prompting reflection and often encouraging further inquiry into what, for example, the titles of the works or sculptures themselves suggest. Without any claim to completeness – since in the present study only a very small portion of Tibor Kolozsi’s oeuvre can be touched upon – the following titles may be cited: Áldás (Blessing), Apokalipszis (Apocalypse), A tanító (The Teacher), Ballada (Ballad), Betyár (Outlaw), Bukott angyal (Fallen Angel), Echo (Echo), Ébredés (Awakening), Éva (Eve), Gladiátor (Gladiator), Herceg (Prince), Imamalom (Prayer Mill), Inas (Apprentice), Káin és Ábel (Cain and Abel), Kariatidák (Caryatids), Néró (Nero), Perszeusz (Perseus), Regruta (Recruit), Útban Egyiptom fele (On the Way to Egypt), Uruk királya (King of Uruk), Szent Sebestyén (Saint Sebastian), Szirén (Siren), Szókrátesz (Socrates), and Várakozó (Waiting).
His themes are frequently allegorical; he has a marked affinity for mythological motifs and narratives, legends, yet these works are always multi-layered in terms of interpretation and never confined exclusively to a single ‘theme’. As has already become clear, he returns willingly – one might say obsessively – to so-called ‘portraits’, which never depict a specific individual or personality; rather, they are syntheses of emotions and ideas, realised in bronze and, at times, in stone. In connection with these much-favoured ‘portraits’, the art critic Dr Alexandra Rus, analysing the material of Kolozsi’s 2001 sculptural exhibition Portré, observes the following: “When analysing the sculptor’s works, one should begin from their compositions. Kolozsi reinterprets the traditional concept of portraiture. It testifies to considerable artistic courage that the artist innovates on several fronts. What we encounter are not actual portraits, but portraits of turn-of-the-millennium and elemental conceptions. The artist draws attention to the fact that the immediacy of the present is always in tension with the frozen structures of thought offered by the past. The sculpture Dávid (David), for instance, represents the projection of creation, while the Szfinx (Sphinx) embodies the enigma of creation and existence. Alongside these, the exhibition also presents figures such as the dreamer, the thinker, and the gladiator. Every work encountered obliges the viewer to enter the sculptor’s world of visual art.”
Throughout his career, Tibor Kolozsi has repeatedly responded to communal and historical imperatives; his works cast decisive historical moments, emblematic figures, and outstanding personalities of Hungarian culture in bronze and carve them in stone. The most compelling evidence of this is provided by his public monuments, found both in Hungary and far beyond its borders. These include the bust of János Takó, the former Roman Catholic priest who served in the artist’s native village of Ditrău, to whose name the construction of the celebrated twin-towered Neo-Gothic Roman Catholic church of Ditrău (1908–1913) – the largest in the entire basin – is also linked; the full-length statue of István Bocskai, Prince of Transylvania, in Salonta (Nagyszalonta); the Cserhalom Memorial in Țigău (Cegőtelke); the memorial to the Battle of Chiraleș (Kerlés, 1068) in the Bistrița-Năsăud (Beszterce-Naszód) County village of the same name; the bust of Ernő Kiss, Honvéd lieutenant general and martyr of Arad, in Pécs; the bust of the poet Domokos Szilágyi in Satu Mare (Szatmárnémeti); and Halászember lánya (lit. Fisherman’s Daughter) in the city of Icheon, South Korea.
The most incisive assessment of Tibor Kolozsi’s work was formulated by the Romanian art critic and art historian Mircea Oliv, a close friend of the artist, in connection with Kolozsi’s 2013 exhibition Megtestesülés (lit. Incarnation), held at the Quadro Gallery in Cluj-Napoca, which presented nineteen bronze sculptures. In Oliv’s view, Kolozsi differs radically from all other sculptors, including his entire generation, because he possesses an exceptional ability to perceive both the positive and the negative simultaneously within the material itself. Tibor Kolozsi is the artist who translates the inexhaustible expressive repertoire of prehistory and mythology into the language of sculpture in the most convincing and authentic manner; it is through this process that his new visual structures come into being, structures that invite contemplation. In the case of the portraits, Oliv notes, Kolozsi endows his works with seemingly archaic features, while at the same time creating thoroughly modern sculptures: it is precisely in their timelessness, in their transcendence of period and style, that these works articulate something new – concludes Mircea Oliv in his evaluation of both individual aspects and the overall unity of the oeuvre.
[2024]