Gara is a charming little village south of Baja, on the Hungarian-Serbian border. It is home to descendants of the Bukovina Székelys, Hungarians resettled from Upper Hungary and Vojvodina, Bunyevacs and Serbs who have lived here for generations, and Swabians who were not resettled, all living in harmony. In 2020, earthwork began on the Gara bike path; while cutting through a hilly section, a vertical clay wall about 30 meters long and 180 cm high in the middle was exposed, consisting of clay that was sometimes bright yellow and sometimes earthy and crumbly. Out of curiosity, I set to work chipping away at it with a pickaxe. I first shaped a horse; the clay held up well, and I didn’t stop for a few days, working spontaneously, letting the world of my childhood farmstead and village come through. The theme was given; I carved that earth — I might say I cultivated it — for which the peasantry lived and died, where they might rest in peace if they weren’t turning in their graves. After World War II, their independence was taken away, many were deported, but even under the collective farm system they managed to get back on their feet, as they nurtured their hopes in their home gardens, just as they had read in the Bible: “They will yet buy houses, fields, and vineyards in this land.” However, the botched transition and accession to the EU led to the liquidation of agricultural enterprises and factories. As a result, the historic peasantry died out, along with its work-centered value system and culture. The highway was nearby; we stopped, and of course we talked about the past—about the peasantry that clung to their homeland, their land, their people, and their nation; that worked day and night; and that fought heroically in wars. This is not pathos; to me, it is a stark fact. This three-year photographic documentation of the clay sculpture visually symbolizes this passing. The images, printed on a 3-meter-wide, 1-meter-high photo canvas, depict the actual proportions and process; I will soon present the video version as well.
Ferenc Kis-Tóth