The Sculptural Oeuvre of Miklós Melocco
Free-standing sculpture and relief, monument and memorial, portrait and decorative sculpture, fountain figure and tomb monument – this list of genres and techniques outlining the work of sculptor Miklós Melocco already hints at the artist’s wide-ranging curiosity and serves as a reminder that approaching his art requires abandoning the comfort of traditional categories and formal types. His works – as the large-scale oeuvre that began unfolding after the completion of his studies in 1961 so vividly attests – have always been autonomous creations, departing from convention and guided by their own inner law. In Melocco’s pantheon, instead of a fiery, revolutionary Ady Endre, we encounter the weary, tormented poet facing death or already beyond it, appearing as a visionary spirit of apotheosis – as powerfully represented by the compositions exhibited in Tatabánya, Debrecen, Pécs and Budapest’s Petőfi Literary Museum. Similarly, in Melocco’s conception, Attila József, the poet elevated by communist ideology into a prophetic figure, appears not as a seer but – surprisingly again – as a pain-stricken altar figure attached to an architectural relief in Komlói József Attila-emlékmű (Attila József Memorial in Komló). In Székesfehérvár, too, it is not a conventional royal statue that greets the viewer on the city’s main street, but rather a whole historical era that takes on form and meaning in the architectural-sculptural ensemble of Mátyás-emlékmű (Matthias Memorial). Alongside the poet memorials (Ady Endre, Radnóti Miklós, József Attila) and the statues of outstanding historical figures – Mátyás király (King Matthias), Széchenyi István (István Széchenyi), Kossuth Lajos (Lajos Kossuth) – three monumental historical memorials emerged in the 1990s from Melocco’s studio, far removed from the sphere of politics: the strikingly powerful, symbol-creating Szegedi ’56-os emlékmű (Szeged 1956 Memorial), the deeply emotional Váci II. világháborús emlékmű (Vác World War II Memorial), and the extraordinary Antall József-síremlék (József Antall Tomb Monument) in Budapest.
At the turn of the millennium and in the years that followed, this exceptionally rich oeuvre expanded with new works – such as the ambitious and daring Szent István megkoronázása (Coronation of Saint Stephen) in Esztergom, the Mansfeld Péter-emlék (Péter Mansfeld Memorial) in Buda Castle, and the Áttörés (Breakthrough) in Sopronpuszta.
This impressive and enduring body of work, however, should not mislead us into believing that Melocco was always able to realize his every vision. Owing to the political structure of the previous regime – the dictatorship and its cultural policy – he often had to work in a defensive position for decades, unable to accept certain commissions. And even when he could, he had to fight stubborn battles for the right to fulfil them without compromise.
In the shadow of his major realized (and unrealized) projects lies a lesser-known, yet highly engaging and valuable stratum of his oeuvre: smaller works that have not enjoyed the spotlight, even among critics and art historians. To this group belong the Radnóti-portré (Radnóti Portrait) in Jánoshalma; the wooden Térdeplő fiú (Kneeling Boy) kept in the Szombathely Museum; the Nagy Balogh János plaster sculpture, displayed at his joint 1973 exhibition with Lajos Sváby; the Dr. Tangl Harald-portré (Dr. Harald Tangl Portrait) in Herceghalom and the Komjádi Béla-portré (Béla Komjádi Portrait) in Budapest; the Kezdő akt (Young Nude) in Pásztó; and the plaster Szent sír (Holy Sepulchre) in Győr – for which one could write a detailed study on the modelling of the sunken torso, the fragile legs, the toes, and the treatment of drapery. Also worthy of mention are the radiant torsos occasionally appearing at group exhibitions, such as Isten báránya (Lamb of God), as well as the many small-scale sculptures scattered among private collections. Alongside the large works that have provoked waves of critical debate and even media hysteria, these more intimate pieces also demand close attention. Let us reflect on the masks and mask-like faces, on the increasingly intense use of drapery – on the wrinkled, suffering, or luxuriantly flowing fabrics – and on their sculptural, formal, and symbolic functions; on the resigned or helplessly flashing gazes of the figures, their closed eyelids, expressing paradoxes, absurdities, impossibilities, and nonethelesses. In exploring the layers of Melocco’s sculpture and unravelling its meanings, we encounter again and again the hopelessness of death, the futile yet passionately recurring desire to transcend despair. Taking all this into account, it must be emphasized that this vast oeuvre is not only of great importance in the history of Hungarian sculpture but also plays a vital role in shaping and reflecting Hungary’s collective self-awareness and sense of identity.
Ady Endre, Radnóti Miklós, József Attila, Kodály Zoltán, Latinovits Zoltán, Mátyás király, Szent István, Széchenyi István, Kossuth Lajos, Deák Ferenc – these historical figures and creative artists embodied in Melocco’s sculptures, together with the historical events, turning points, and ideals elevated into monuments – such as the Revolution of 1956 – signal a clear artistic and moral orientation. They also disprove the conventional notion of the sculptor as a mere executor of commissions, demonstrating instead that an artist can never be a craftsman-servant to any regime. Even a sculptor working in the public and monumental sphere can be a conscious creator, adhering to firm ethical principles and working according to an autonomous artistic program. In one of his final essays before his death, A művész felelőssége (The Artist’s Responsibility), the art historian Lajos Németh wrote: “The value that reveals itself in the work is not the product of human will, but arises from the thing itself – from its act of revelation. The creative artist, therefore, produces value primarily through the work itself, which generates and unveils its own essence. Thus, the artist’s responsibility is first and foremost to the work of art. It is their duty to bring forth the value struggling to be born. They must focus on this and sacrifice everything else for its sake.” The oeuvre of Miklós Melocco – whether approached through its thematic and moral content or its formal and technical aspects – was and continues to be built in the spirit of pure value-seeking, new value creation, and the suggestive unfolding of meaning. Melocco’s sculpture is one of the purest artistic media of the last third of the 20th century and the opening years of the 21st.
Melocco’s creative method – which rejects strict typologies, disregards traditional genre rules, and boldly casts aside convention – can also be clearly observed in his portrait works, those falling under the category of the “bust.” His early pieces, such as the Dr. Koltay György (1964, Sárvár) and Vági István (1971, Nagykőrös) statues, still conform to established norms: the disciplined, rigid visage sits above a regular pedestal, allowing these works to blend seamlessly into Hungary’s abundant landscape of public portrait busts. However, already in the Bartók Béla-szobor (Bartók Béla Statue, Győr, 1969), something begins to stir: instead of mere likeness and character emphasis, the familiar face of the composer is imbued with a strange dreamlike aura, and the head’s mass is shaped into expressive irregularities. The Dr. Tangl Harald-gipszképmás (Dr. Harald Tangl Plaster Portrait, Herceghalom, 1972) breaks conventions entirely – a man’s bust with real spectacles rests atop a pedestal composed of twin columns supporting a heap of paper-like forms. The Radnóti Miklós-szobor (Radnóti Miklós Statue, Jánoshalma, 1974), cast in bronze, presents a dynamic structure: a diagonal compositional axis cuts across the vertical pedestal, while a drifting fold of drapery envelops the torso and shoulders, forming an independent plastic rhythm. If a bust can embody tragic, dramatic power, this is the one. The pedestal itself becomes sculpture in the Komjádi Béla-portré (Béla Komjádi Portrait, Budapest, Császár–Komjádi Swimming Pool, 1976), where the most striking formal feature is the composition’s frame. Classical references are evoked by the Gerelyes Endre-portré (Endre Gerelyes Portrait, 1986, Salgótarján), in terracotta, whose closed eyes – as in many of Melocco’s figures – symbolize the ambivalence of life and death. Among the portraits from 2000, the Klebelsberg Kunó (Kunó Klebelsberg) in Szeged deserves special mention for its unconventional inventiveness, alongside the bronze Széchenyi István (István Széchenyi) created for the headquarters of the Hungarian Foreign Trade Bank in Budapest – a companion piece to the Radnóti Miklós of Jánoshalma. In both, the sculptor forms the figure through the harmonious union of draped body and head. The Kossuth Lajos-szobor (Lajos Kossuth Statue, Kisbér, 2002) consists of two distinct yet harmoniously fused elements: the draped half-figure crowned with the characteristic bearded head, and the fluted columnar pedestal. Here the drapery no longer billows or folds in anguish; instead, it descends quietly, enveloping the figure and the classicizing column in calm solemnity.
With only a few exceptions – such as the early pelicans, the Hempergő elefánt (Rolling Elephant) in Ózd, the dragon of the Orfűi kút (Orfű Fountain), the Papírrepülő (Paper Airplane) in Budapest, the sunflowers of the Szabadságoszlop (Column of Freedom) in Zsámbék, and the rose stem of the ’56-os emlékmű (1956 Memorial) in Debrecen – Miklós Melocco’s sculpture consistently features human figures rendered with a recurrently realistic–expressive sensibility: solitary figures, sometimes paired compositions, and, in his grander works, complex group arrangements. The sculptural idea and expressive medium are most often the naked or draped body – motionless or caught in a moment of stilling movement – and only rarely are these figures accompanied by secondary elements, environmental motifs, objects, or attributes. Horse and rider appear together in Thury György in Tata and II. Rákóczi Ferenc in Mezőtúr; a swan accompanies the Léda of the Kilus-kút (Kilus Fountain) in Budapest; and surrounding objects frame Vécsey Károly on the relief in Solt, József Attila in Mezőhegyes, Dr. Szentmihályi Sándor in Gödöllő, and Deák Ferenc in Balatonfüred. Infinitely lonely, self-contained figures populate Melocco’s oeuvre: the Kuporgó (Crouching Figure) in Salgótarján; the Ady: A halottak élén költője (Ady: Poet at the Head of the Dead) in Tatabánya; the Kezdő akt (Beginning Nude) in Pásztó; Ady Endre in Pécs; Radnóti in Győr-Abda; Szent sír (Holy Sepulchre – Christ) in Győr; Szókratész (Socrates) in Zsámbék; Homo Faber on the Amerigo Tot-síremlék (Amerigo Tot Tomb) in Budapest; Latinovits Zoltán in Balatonszemes; Gróf Széchenyi István in Miskolc; Klebelsberg Kunó in Szeged; and Kossuth Lajos in Kisbér. Two-figure compositions condense dramatic relationships, sharp conflicts, or peculiar associative parallels: the Mátyás király-dombormű (King Matthias Relief) in Tárnok Street, Budapest; Szülő nő és bába (Mother and Midwife) in Miskolc; Ady Endre in Debrecen – whose “companion” is his own death mask; the Földműves emlékmű (Peasant Memorial) in Ópusztaszer, one figure of which portrays the sculptor’s self-portrait; Bacchus and Lady and Archimedes és az ifjú (Archimedes and the Young One) in Budapest; the II. világháborús emlékmű (World War II Memorial) in Vác; and Szent István megkoronázása (Coronation of Saint Stephen) in Esztergom.
The now-dismantled Kodály Zoltán-emlék (Kodály Zoltán Memorial) in Kecskemét was conceived as a central figure surrounded by grouped companions, while the Ady in Budapest and the József Attila-oltár (József Attila Altar) in Komló unfold in baroque, swirling complexity. An autonomous, vast sculptural space opens for the stone- and bronze-cast figures in the Mátyás-emlékmű (Matthias Memorial) in Székesfehérvár, while the ’56-os emlékmű (1956 Memorial) in Szeged and the Antall József-síremlék (Antall József Tomb) in Budapest display Melocco’s mastery of integrating, highlighting, and subordinating figures – achieving unity amid hierarchy.
Whether single-, double-, or multi-figured, each Melocco composition is conceived with extraordinary spatial sensitivity: the work is positioned and organized within its environment with sculptural vitality that unfolds through multidimensional perspectives – no viewpoint is neglected. If a “rear view” cannot be eliminated, the sculptor counterbalances or neutralizes it through placement – setting the piece against a wall, within a niche, or into the surrounding architecture so that it cannot be circumnavigated by the viewer. The deliberate intention to create a full, undiminished sculptural field – to make space permeable to form – animates those remarkable compositions in which relief and freestanding sculpture coexist and merge seamlessly: Mátyás király (King Matthias) in Buda Castle; A falon átrepülő apáca (The Nun Flying Through the Wall); the Kodály Zoltán-emlék (Kodály Zoltán Memorial) in Kecskemét; Ady in Pécs; the Amerigo Tot-síremlék (Amerigo Tot Tomb) in the Farkasrét Cemetery, Budapest; the Deák Ferenc-dombormű-szobor (Deák Ferenc Relief-Statue) in Balatonfüred; and, most prominently, the Mátyás-emlékmű (Matthias Memorial) in Székesfehérvár and the ’56-os emlékmű (1956 Memorial) in Szeged. Dynamic spatial forces converge in the masterful, sensitive modelling of Melocco’s sculptural masses and forms, whose profound intellectual content unfolds through the condensed thought embodied within each statue.
When examining the stylistic traits uniting the now five-decade-long Melocco oeuvre, special attention must be given to one sculptural element: the drapery, which is of primary importance in both its formal and thematic dimensions. The garments covering the figures, the veils enveloping the bodies, already display a restrained Baroque undulation in works from the early 1970s – a feature that gradually becomes ever more pronounced until it emerges as a defining hallmark, a veritable stylistic signature, of Melocco’s sculpture.
The veil, the drapery, conceals and reveals, hides and suggests – it evokes riddles through suggestion, while simultaneously emphasizing and ennobling. Beyond its formal richness – its varied folds, delicate modelling, and material sensibility – the drapery alters the essence of things, veiling their truth, softening their substance, turning them into something tense and withdrawn. In Melocco’s sculptural universe, the drapery’s suggestive, concealing quality becomes a metaphor for Hungary in the final third of the 20th century: in this corner of Europe, the essence of things remained hidden, submerged beneath the surface, half-concealed. Within the mysterious folds of the drapery, the emotional tremors of Melocco’s abstractions and the hard dramas of his tangible realities take shape and live on.
Melocco carves stone – and, at times, wood – and only occasionally models and casts in bronze. This predominance of carving – sculptura, the art of shaping by removal – runs throughout his career. (“Melocco’s virtue lies in his respect for the materiality of stone, in his sculptural sensitivity and strong gift for character depiction,” wrote art historian Lajos Németh in Kritika in 1966, reviewing the sculptor’s work shown at the Stúdió 1966 exhibition.) His major works are either of stone or marble – the Thury György in Tata, the Ady on the Bench in Tatabánya, the Ady Memorial in Pécs, The Nun Flying Through the Wall in Budapest, Radnóti in Győr-Abda, the Peasant Memorial in Ópusztaszer, the Mátyás Memorial in Székesfehérvár, the ’56 Memorial in Szeged, the Antall József Tomb in Budapest’s Fiumei Road Cemetery, and the Coronation of Saint Stephen at the Esztergom Rondella – only a few were cast in bronze: the Kodály Zoltán Memorial Relief in Kecskemét, the Latinovits Zoltán Statue in Balatonszemes, a secondary figure of the Mátyás Memorial in Székesfehérvár, the World War II Memorial in Vác, and a handful of portraits. The dominance of stone and marble seems to contradict the fact that Melocco’s teachers, colleagues, and critics alike have described him as a brilliant modeller. The key to resolving this paradox lies in his preferred material: plaster, which he began to use extensively in the 1970s. Plaster, being both buildable and malleable, allows for construction, modelling, and casting alike. Melocco often models and completes his works in plaster, then carves them into stone for their final form. In many interior works – such as the first version of the Ady Altar in Budapest or the József Attila Altar in Komló – plaster is the final material, which is erroneously believed to be provisional, but is in fact an enduring material, capable of lasting for centuries. Melocco’s versatility is further demonstrated by his small sculptures, which he creates alongside his monumental works – these are usually cast in bronze – and by his refined, almost calligraphic drawings, which accompany and extend his spatial compositions. These are far more than preparatory studies: they are true graphic masterpieces. “The quality of the object drawn into space depends on the quality of one’s drawing. If a sculptor cannot draw, he is incapable of making a good sculpture – except, perhaps, a movingly clumsy one,” he wrote in his essay A gyengülő sznobizmus (“The Weakening of Snobbery”) published in Népszava on 25 April 1998.
After surveying the autonomous realm of Melocco’s sculpture, we must finally speak of his poetry – the Melocco-lyric – the intellectual breadth and brilliance reflected in his writings, interviews, and spoken thoughts. His sculptural oeuvre can only be fully understood through the truths, insights, and beauties of his words – whether encountered directly or through documentation. Only then does the emotionally charged world of his art reveal its full depth: in the fruitful dialogue between craft and spirit, in the embodiment of the fertile thought within sculptural form.
[2013]