Gyula László was one of the outstanding figures of twentieth-century Hungarian archaeology and intellectual life. Through his lasting methodological and conceptual innovations, he contributed significantly to deepening and disseminating the image of Hungary’s ancient past. The trajectory of his career was shaped by the interaction between his dual interests – scientific and artistic. These two impulses, which he attributed to the influence of his father and mother respectively, continued to compete within him even after he made, in 1935, his formal and lifelong choice of profession: he decided in favour of archaeology.
In what follows, I will first review his work as an archaeologist, then discuss his artistic creations, and finally turn to the third domain of his creative activity – his writings on art.
I.
On Archaeology: “The cultivated land and its cultivator shape each other in their own image. Our native soil is not merely a cadastral unit or a number of square kilometres; it embodies – as a subtle shade – the labour of those who have tilled it, who for thirteen centuries have cared for it and drawn life from it and within it. It is the poor man who clings most closely to the land – he ploughs, sows, labours, and reaps its yield. For this reason – and for personal, family reasons as well – I became the archaeologist of the poor.” [1]
Gyula László’s archaeological work focused primarily on uncovering the relics of the Migration Period, the Hungarian Conquest, and the early Middle Ages within the Carpathian Basin, thereby exploring the early life of the Hungarian people. His interests, from childhood onward, were remarkably broad: he was deeply fascinated by history, ethnography, and archaeology alike, by both the material and the written heritage of Hungary’s past, and he also possessed exceptional drawing skills.
All these, combined with the artistic training he received at the Academy of Fine Arts and his close friendship with members of the movement called “népi írók” (people’s writers), inspired him to seek new directions within his chosen vocation – what he called his “second craft”, archaeology – and to pursue his research and teaching through what we would today describe as an interdisciplinary approach.
In 1935, his doctoral dissertation, Adatok az avarkori műipar ókeresztény kapcsolataihoz (Data on the Early Christian Connections of Avar Period Applied Arts), which he defended summa cum laude, still reflected the rather dry, object-focused analytical style typical of its time. His professional development was greatly advanced by his internship and, from 1937 onward, his position as assistant curator at the Hungarian National Museum (MNM). The museum’s then director general, István Zichy, had himself begun as an artist before turning his attention to the study of Hungarian prehistory and cultural history. Another key authority at the institution, Nándor Fettich – who was also a recognized goldsmith – helped László master the methods of object analysis and reconstruction. Opportunities to apply these methods in practice were provided by a series of rescue excavations conducted in various parts of the country, primarily in Avar-period cemeteries. During this work, László realized that the documentation of finds unearthed in previous decades was extremely incomplete – partly due to the incompetence of earlier excavators, and partly due to their insensitivity to cultural context. As a result, those finds allowed for hardly any conclusions beyond the mere history of the objects themselves. In his own fieldwork, he therefore strove to record the exact spatial position of each artifact and emphasized the importance of doing so in his writings, such as his 1941 article entitled A népvándorláskori temetők térképezéséről (On the Mapping of Migration Period Cemeteries). His years at the Hungarian National Museum also brought opportunities for study trips abroad. During this period, his first major publication appeared – a meticulous analysis of the coronation sceptre – which was later followed by further studies on the Hungarian coronation regalia.
From 1940 onward, important new responsibilities awaited him in the newly reestablished scholarly life of Kolozsvár (Cluj), which had returned to Hungary. He was appointed to one of the five institute lectureships of the Transylvanian Scientific Institute, founded for the advancement of the social sciences, and was thus able to draft the work plan of the Institute’s Archaeological Department. He defined its task as the exploration and study of the Migration Period and early Hungarian relics of Transylvania, since during Romanian rule, local archaeological research had focused almost exclusively on the Roman period. László familiarized himself with the museums of the regained territory and skillfully expanded their collections through carefully selected excavations. Based on his excavations – most notably that of the Conquest-period cemetery on Zápolya Street in Kolozsvár – he was able to marshal convincing evidence that Transylvania had been occupied by the Hungarians even before the reign of King Saint Stephen. Alongside his institutional research, he also lectured on archaeology at the Franz Joseph University, which had relocated back from Szeged. In the winter of 1941–42, he participated with Nándor Fettich in a rescue research mission in Kyiv, then occupied by the German army. Reviewing the finds from the area, they concluded that the Hungarians on their way to the Carpathian Basin had spent a longer period around Kyiv and had played a role in the formation of the Kievan state.
László Gyula’s years in Transylvania were decisive in shaping the methodology he later termed “archaeological ethnography”. The essence of this approach was to shift the focus of research from the rich grave goods of leaders and elites to the material remains found in commoners’ cemeteries, thereby centering the study on the everyday life of ordinary people. Building upon the achievements of earlier “real archaeology”, yet moving beyond its object-centered orientation, László sought to reconstruct the life and culture of a given people through the archaeological record, while applying ethnographic and other social-scientific methods. This approach was not entirely without precedent in Hungarian scholarship – similar tendencies can be observed in the works of Flóris Rómer, Albert Nyáry, Béla Pósta, and others. Yet it was László Gyula who, defining himself as “the archaeologist of the poor”, formulated this method systematically, applied it consistently, and – through his connections with the popular movement – made it widely known both within academic circles and in the broader Hungarian intellectual sphere. A classic example of this methodology is his reconstruction of the Hungarian saddle type from the time of the Conquest [2], which he based not only on archaeological finds but also on the study of the traditional tools and techniques of a Tiszafüred saddle-maker who was still active in the early decades of the twentieth century. Beyond the reconstruction of the ancient saddle type, his monograph aimed to gain insight into the custom of burial with horse, and, through them, into the belief system of the age – an endeavor in which he also analyzed the customs of the peoples of the Eurasian steppes.
The Balatonszárszó Conference, held in August 1943, provided László Gyula with an excellent opportunity to elaborate on the principles of his archaeological ethnography. At this gathering, leading figures of the popular movement discussed the situation and future of the Hungarian nation. Following the success of his presentation [3], László’s most influential and significant work, A honfoglaló magyar nép élete (The Life of the Conquering Hungarian People), was published in 1944. This extensive volume – richly illustrated with his own drawings – presents the disciplines that may assist in such research, ranging from history, linguistics, settlement studies, ethnography, zoology, botany, and chemistry to geography and archaeology. It then describes the natural environment and population of the Carpathian Basin at the time of the Hungarian Conquest, as well as the arrival of the conquerors themselves. The second chapter, based on cemetery excavations, reconstructs the structure and life of the presumed basic social unit, the extended family. The third discusses the characteristics of work, magic, and art, while the fourth deals with sickness, death, and the world of belief. In this book – as in several of his other works – László developed an innovative approach to cemetery analysis, proposing that in these “villages of the dead,” everyone had a designated place reflecting the order of earthly life, thus allowing inferences to be drawn about the structure of the society itself. His method relied heavily on ethnographic parallels, which he also used to reconstruct aspects of everyday life, customs, and beliefs. Although several of his theses – such as the idea that Conquest-period cemeteries reflect the structure of extended families – were later debated by archaeologists and ethnographers, and many have criticized the projection of 19th–20th-century ethnographic phenomena onto earlier centuries, even his critics acknowledge that The Life of the Conquering Hungarian People remains a work of enduring scholarly, historiographical, and literary value.
After the war, in Kolozsvár (Cluj), Gyula László devoted primarily his time to university teaching and academic–public organizational work. Among his publications from 1945 to 1949, the most significant dealt with the ancient Hungarian belief system and its survival in later centuries.[4] After his return to Budapest, as an intellectual associated with the popular movement, he found himself marginalized within academic life. Nevertheless, his expertise was sought after both at Eötvös Loránd University (ELTE) and at the Hungarian National Museum (MNM). At the university, he taught as a part-time lecturer and prepared course notes, while at the museum he was employed in the creation of the newly reorganized permanent exhibition on Hungarian history. In this work, he drew on his earlier experience with Soviet archaeological and historical exhibition methods acquired in Kyiv. In contrast to earlier displays – where the showcases had been filled almost entirely with amassed artifacts – he created and commissioned high-quality reconstruction drawings, thereby transforming the exhibitions into genuine educational displays, despite the mandatory Marxist explanatory texts of the era. In the same spirit, he contributed to the renewal of exhibitions in numerous provincial museums, thanks to his parallel appointment (between 1949 and 1953) as archaeological curator at the Múzeumok és Műemlékek Országos Központja (National Centre for Museums and Monuments), in addition to his university and museum positions. After the dissolution of this institution, he joined the Hungarian National Museum, where he was appointed head of the newly established Medieval Department. During his tenure there (until the end of 1956), he succeeded in making the department the leading center of medieval studies in Hungary. At his initiative, systematic excavations began on Conquest-period and Árpád-era settlements and cemeteries, and it became standard practice to prepare cemetery maps and grave drawings – the latter facilitated by pre-printed sheets introduced earlier under the directorship of István Zichy. His most important work from this period [5], employing the same method of cemetery analysis previously applied to the Conquest-period Hungarians, examined several Avar-age sites in Hungary. On this basis, he sought to reconstruct the political structure, society, and its transformations during the Avar rule.
From 1957 until his retirement at the end of 1980, László taught at Eötvös Loránd University, and from 1967 onward he served as head of the Department of Migration-Period and Medieval Archaeology, educating generations of archaeologists. Meanwhile, he gained increasing opportunities for excavation, publication, and active participation in academic life. As a teacher, beyond imparting methodological and factual knowledge, he placed great emphasis on what he called “productive uncertainty” – the principle that research results do not necessarily lead to the ultimate truth on a given issue, but rather represent one possible interpretation. Among his excavations, the most significant was that of the Conquest-period village at Felgyő (Csongrád County). However, neither this assemblage nor the finds from the early Avar-period cemetery at Csákberény (Fejér County), excavated before the Second World War, were ever fully analyzed in a systematic manner. From 1962 onward, he presented papers at numerous international conferences, including Slavic archaeological and Finno-Ugric congresses, many of which were later published in print. His international recognition was further reflected not only by his membership in several professional organizations abroad, but also by the invitation he received in the 1970s from the editors of the scientific encyclopedia of Germanic archaeology [6] to contribute several entries.
Among László Gyula’s extensive body of Hungarian-language publications, one of the most outstanding is his comprehensive work A népvándorláskor művészete Magyarországon (The Art of the Migration Period in Hungary) (1970). Its methodology goes beyond the conventional chronological and ethnocultural classification of objects: it includes separate chapters devoted to the various branches of craft production and explores the spiritual background of decorative motifs – such as the tree reaching to the sky, the cosmic duel, or the mother goddess. His monograph on the Treasure of Nagyszentmiklós (1977) divides this exceptional Migration Period hoard, discovered in present-day Hungary, into two distinct assemblages, based on meticulous technical and stylistic analysis. This classification has since been widely accepted by both Hungarian and international scholarship. He also produced several other significant and respected studies on artifacts connected to the early and medieval history of the Hungarians, including the reliquary bust of Saint Ladislaus, Lehel’s horn, and the coronation regalia. Parallel to these, he published numerous archaeological and prehistoric syntheses, some scholarly in nature, others aimed at a broader audience. The latter works earned wide acclaim for their clear, engaging style and for the reconstruction drawings created by the author himself, as did his popular lectures both in Hungary and abroad.
In 1993, summarizing decades of research, he published his volume on medieval wall paintings depicting the legend of Saint Ladislaus. Presenting more examples than any earlier study – twenty-nine monuments in total, including eleven from Székelyföld (Székely Land) and eight from Szepes County – the work places strong emphasis on the pre-Conquest elements preserved within the legend and its pictorial cycles. He interprets the ensemble of these monuments and the legend underlying them as a significant Hungarian contribution to European art and folklore. The volume, supplemented by an appendix by Terézia Kerny, which summarizes the now-lost frescoes and their art-historical context, offers numerous valuable observations on specific issues. Nevertheless, it stops short of a systematic iconographic, technical, and art-historical analysis of the corpus as a whole.
The theory of the “dual conquest”, which became inextricably linked with the name of Gyula László, was first published in its mature form in 1970. [7] According to this theory, the Onogur/Late Avar population that migrated into the Carpathian Basin around 670 AD was Hungarian-speaking, and – after Árpád’s conquest at the end of the 9th century – their descendants formed the mass of the Hungarian common people, while the “second conquering” Turkic-type leadership that arrived with Árpád organized them into a state. This theory – which László returned to repeatedly in numerous academic and popularizing writings, interviews, and lectures – provoked considerable debate among archaeologists, historians, and ethnographers. The controversy was intensified by the fact that, rather than providing a coherent body of scientific evidence, László supported his “hypothetical concept” mainly with logical arguments drawn from disparate sources, many of which became later refutable by subsequent research.
Although it cannot be said that there exists a distinct “László school” in Hungarian archaeology, his scientific methods – particularly the application of ethnographic approaches within archaeology – became widely influential both in Hungary and, through his foreign-language publications and international lectures, in neighbouring countries as well. His writings and the debates they sparked enriched Hungarian scholarship with numerous new perspectives and had a stimulating effect on several generations of researchers. László’s position within Hungarian intellectual life was also of particular significance: as a scholar of national sentiment, long marginalized under the communist regime, he earned great respect among those intellectuals interested in the origins and early history of the Hungarian people. The generations of archaeologists he taught and mentored over more than fifty years of teaching – whether they accepted his views or opposed them but invariably respected him – may rightly be regarded as his intellectual heirs, as “students of the László school”. Likewise, those whose interest in the roots and ancient past of the Hungarians was awakened by his popularizing writings and reconstruction drawings also belong to this circle.
II.
On artistic creation: “I can paint a scene, a landscape, a person, or a reflection in water that unfolds before me; I can trace its details, down to the finest ‘hairs’. [...] The other painterly, artistic approach is the act of creation through painting itself. This happens when, within one’s imagination, a picture takes shape as if one had seen it – but in fact has not – only lived so deeply into the ‘theme’ that one feels compelled to paint it. This kind of creative attitude can also approach ideas and thoughts. [...] If I were asked now which attitude dominates my work, I would decidedly choose the latter – ‘the act of creation by painting’ – though that does not mean that I am untouched, for example, by the dazzling colours of a floral still life, the mood of a landscape, or the humanity of a face”. [8]
Gyula László’s fine art activity had two main branches: the creation of autonomous works (paintings, drawings, etchings, engravings, ceramics, sculptures), and applied graphic design (illustrations for books and periodicals, as well as reconstruction drawings for museum displays, posters, covers, and occasional graphic works). The proper assessment of the former is complicated by the fact that, following his commitment to an academic career in 1935, he destroyed nearly one and a half quintals of his drawings and paintings. Consequently, the works he created during his years at the Academy of Fine Arts and in the few years immediately following have survived only sporadically, partly in the Academy’s collections and partly in private hands. He returned to painting and drawing after 1945 and continued to pursue them regularly every year for the rest of his life. As a result, his surviving artistic legacy comprises roughly one hundred oil paintings, one hundred watercolours and etchings, several thousand drawings, and dozens of sculptural works, plaques, and ceramics in various materials (bronze, stone, wood). The majority of these remain in the possession of his family.
From his youth, a few paintings have survived – self-portraits, nudes, and views of Transylvanian villages – reflecting a search for style under the influence of his teachers. Among these is a triptych-shaped domestic altar, whose central panel depicts the enthroned Virgin Mary with the standing Child on her lap, while the wings show the figures of Adam and Eve. From the mid-1940s onward, he created visionary, symbolically charged figurative compositions in oil and watercolour (for example, Ölelkezés és világvége [Embrace and Apocalypse], 1952; Élő és holt [The Living and the Dead], 1962). Their sources were often Christian iconography (e.g., several versions of The Annunciation), Hungarian prehistory (Rege a csodaszarvasról [The Legend of the Miraculous Stag] series, 1963), self-reflection (Az emberélet útján [On the Road of Human Life], 1966), or outstanding figures of Hungarian intellectual life (e.g., the portrait of Béla Bartók, 1954, 1964–1965). From the late 1960s until his death, he produced oil and oil-tempera plein-air paintings with a freer painterly style, most often depicting the Hungarian landscape and village life (e.g., Főutca Balatonrendesen [Main Street in Balatonrendes], 1982), as well as interiors of buildings bearing historical memories (Dukai Takács Judit kályhája Zsennyén [Judit Dukai Takács’s Stove in Zsennye], 1981). Nudes and self-portraits also emerged from his brush. Among his graphic works, one finds above all his virtuoso single-line nudes and visionary, symbolically rich figurative compositions unfolding from intricate networks of lines – most notably his autobiographical series of twenty ink drawings entitled Veronika kendője és a pillangó (Veronica’s Veil and the Butterfly). For his linocut series Az ács fiának evangéliuma [The Gospel of the Carpenter’s Son], he received the blessing of Pope John Paul II in 1991.
Among his autonomous drawings – those not created for illustrative purposes – the largest group, both in quantity and significance, is the portrait series he produced over several decades of his contemporaries: writers, artists, scholars, and public figures. Each sheet bears a trace of the sitter’s own handwriting in the form of a signature, a line of dedication, or a fragment of verse. The approximately six hundred drawings – naturally of varying artistic quality – were executed in graphite, ink, silverpoint, and other techniques, ranging from sketch-like works to meticulously finished pieces. Alongside his virtuoso draughtsmanship, these portraits also attest to his keen ability to capture individuality and character. A significant portion of them has been exhibited and published since the 1970s.
The majority of his applied graphics consists of illustrations and reconstruction drawings created for his own books. Some depict a single object or ornamental motif, while others are complex compositions featuring multiple figures – for example, battle scenes or depictions of everyday life. The former tend to be more detailed and often strive for photographic accuracy, whereas the latter combine the perspectives of archaeological reconstruction and artistic composition. Their importance lies in the fact that – unlike most of his archaeological and historical colleagues – Gyula László, having formal “academic” training in the fine arts, was capable of translating into drawings the images of ancient people and objects that emerged from his research, without the need to collaborate with a graphic artist. His illustrations faithfully reflect his own conceptions, while also standing on their own as works of art.
In addition to his illustrations, he produced a large number of applied graphic works, primarily between 1945 and 1949, for organizations and periodicals of the Hungarian community in Transylvania. His drawings appeared on the covers of books by Lajos Csőgör and József Faragó, in such journals as Világosság, Falvak népe, Utunk, and others, as well as on election posters of the Magyar Népi Szövetség (Hungarian People’s Union). These works, though executed in an academic manner, also testify to his deep familiarity with Transylvanian landscapes, architecture, folk costumes, and the graphic traditions of the region between the two world wars. From the mid-1950s onward, he also designed covers and illustrations in Budapest for scholarly books, catalogues, and works of fiction. A distinctive field within his graphic activity was the creation of historical slide films, which he produced for the Magyar Diafilmgyártó Vállalat (Hungarian Slide Film Company) between 1956 and 1963. His first such work, completed in 1956, depicted the life of János Hunyadi, followed by Lehel kürtje (Lehel’s Horn) in 1959, and in 1963 Láthatatlan ember I–II. (The Invisible Man I–II.), Csongor és Tünde (Csongor and Tünde), and Rege a csodaszarvasról (The Legend of the Miraculous Stag). He worked on the slide film A honfoglaló magyar nép élete (The Life of the Conquering Hungarians) between 1956 and 1961; this project also appeared in book form for young readers and, with a circulation of a quarter of a million copies, became one of Gyula László’s most widely known works.
III.
On art writings: “[...] for I have lived art, and have not learned it from opinions, I neither know nor often even understand the ‘jargon of the initiated’, but I do know and understand the language artists speak among themselves – the language of the guild – which clings to the act of work itself, clear and comprehensible. In these writings, I have tried to approach, to describe, to ‘translate’ sculpture and painting into words. [...] I have sought to observe how different personalities, temperaments, and talents developed – how their pictures and sculptures came into being, how they marvel at the world, or how they try to impose their will upon it. Manifestos and loud debates have never interested me; I have always found most of them contrived. That is the weakness of my writings, but perhaps also their virtue: I attempt to glimpse the artwork from within, to watch the artist almost in the very act of creation.” [9]
Gyula László’s own artistic training and practice played a key role in the formation of his writings on art. In dealing with both the classics and the lesser-known masters of twentieth-century Hungarian art, he was less interested in the stylistic interrelations familiar from art history than in uncovering the inner driving forces behind the creation of works, the questions of craftsmanship, and the timeless values embodied in art. He sought to reveal and interpret these aspects. A large portion of his texts – published as independent volumes, in catalogues, or in journals – focuses on Hungarian painters, sculptors, graphic artists, and designers whom he personally knew, allowing him to recount their lives and the creative process behind their works as an authentic witness. Even in other cases, he strove to enliven his writing by including excerpts from the artists’ own writings and letters or from recollections about them, thereby bringing the subjects vividly to life for the reader.
The first significant group of his art writings was produced in the 1940s in Transylvania, where, beyond his strictly academic and scholarly environment, László maintained wide-ranging contacts with representatives of Hungarian intellectual life, including many artists. His articles published in Szépművészet, Erdélyi Múzeum (Transylvanian Museum, Termés, Utunk, and other periodicals dealt with Transylvanian artists (such as Béla Gy. Szabó and János Incze), collective exhibitions held in Transylvania, and, more rarely, broader questions of artistic life. One of his most important early books was Forradalmak az újkori művészetben (Revolutions in Modern Art) (1945). After moving to Budapest, his attention turned first to Ferenc Medgyessy – whom he regarded as the founder of modern Hungarian sculpture and who had drawn deeply from the traditions of Hungarian folk art. His series of independent books and essays written from 1956 onward culminated in a monograph in 1980 for which Katalin Sz. Kürti compiled a catalogue raisonné and a bibliography. Of particular significance is his extensive study on Gyula Rudnay [10], in which, drawing on his own and others’ recollections, he evoked the efforts of his former academy master to capture, through painterly means, the colours, sounds, and flavours of the Hungarian soul and way of life. He also devoted major essays to the art of József Rippl-Rónai, János Vaszary, Lajos Szalay, Miklós Borsos, Imre Nagy, Jenő Barcsay, and József Soproni Horváth, while in shorter articles and exhibition opening texts he wrote about numerous other artists as well. László’s art writings possess considerable documentary value (for instance, concerning the art of 1940s Transylvania) and a significant popularizing role; and despite their often subjective tone, they also serve, in some cases, as essential art-historical and critical sources – particularly in relation to Ferenc Medgyessy, Gyula Rudnay, and József Soproni Horváth.
[2017]
[1] Gyula László: Ex libris. Mesterségem: régész (Ex Libris. My Profession: Archeologist) Szabad Tér Kiadó, Budapest, 1996, p.30.
[2] A koroncói lelet és a honfoglaló magyarok nyerge. Archaeologia Hungarica. XXVII. Special edition for the Association of the Friends of the Hungarian National Museum. Budapest, 1941. Nagy 8-r. 106 I. +1 p. annex 20
[3] Régészeti néprajz és magyar őstörténelem. In Szárszó – Az 1943. évi balatonszárszói Magyar Élet-tábor előadás- és megbeszéléssorozata, Balatonszárszó, 1943, pp.109–132.
[4] A népvándorlás lovasnépeinek ősvallása. Az Erdélyi Tudományos Intézet Évkönyve 1943. Kolozsvár, 1946.
[5] Études archéologiques sur l'histoire de la société des Avars. (Archeological Studies About the Social History of the Avars), 1955.
[6] Hoops, Johannes [gen.editor]: Reallexikon der Germanischen Altertumskunde. Walter de Gruyter, Berlin–New York, from 1973. The entries written by Gyula László: Awaren – Herkunft und Urgeschichte (The Origine And Early History of the Avars); Die Bewaffnung der Hunnen, Awaren, Magyaren (Weaponry of Huns, Avars, and Hungarians), Blatnica (Blatnica).
[7] Kérdések és feltevések a magyar honfoglalásról. Draft lecture. Valóság, 1970/1., pp.48–64., and A „kettős honfoglalás"-ról. Archaeológiai Értesítő, 1970/2., pp.161–190.
[8] Gyula László: Munkáimról. Kiállítás László Gyula Széchenyi-díjas ny. régészprofesszor festőművész munkásságából. Országos Széchenyi Könyvtár, Budapest, 1993, pp.4–6., ibid.: p.4.
[9] Gyula László: Művészetről, művészekről. Írások a képzőművészetről (About Art and Artists. Writings About Fine Arts), Budapest, Magvető, 1978, p.12.
[10] Gyula László: Sírfelirat Rudnay Gyula [1878-1961] emlékére (Epitaph for the Memory of Gyula Rudnay), 1968. Republication in: Művészetről, művészekről. Írások a képzőművészetről. Budapest, Magvető, 1978, pp.103–200.