I get up around half past 7–8, make coffee for the family, give milk to my son, skim some online portals, then rush to kindergarten. I come up to my studio around 11, put on my work clothes and work for about 4 or 5 hours.
What perfectly fits my mood these days is Akkezdet Phiai. We share the same source of inspiration – Hungarian public life. A few years ago I discovered the Japanese band Soil & "Pimp" Sessions and I simply love them. On the other hand, if I was to give you a really precise answer, I would need to think hard. It hardly ever happens that I purposefully choose some music and entirely focus on it. At the studio, I keep the radio tuned into channel Tilos.
The Possibility of an Island by Michel Houellebecq. It has been my favourite for years, one of the few ones that I read again. But even after I reread it, it has kept its first place.
Let's say London.
Just cooking. It’s either my wife or me who does it. It used to be a great ambition of mine to make fine food. Nowadays I am more interested in keeping it low-budget. My priorities have changed, I no longer find cooking so interesting or important.
I read news and leads online.
Art Monthly, London. Articles about contemporary art published in Blouin Artinfo. And of course, some of the Hungarian magazines as well (sometimes I do a bit of writing too, mostly interviews).
My painting clothes. They give me all the more inspiration during work.
I don’t take everyone’s advice seriously, but maybe I should. I’ve recently had a powerful and important experience. Attila Szűcs came to visit me before I started painting this series. He hasn’t even seen my current works yet. Perhaps his visit also contributed to me taking such a step. He is a relentless critic with a sharp eye, and he gave some just and professionally sound criticism.
I am not very good at starting conversations, so I don’t want to give you big names. I’d have a sit down with myself from 20 years ago, quickly give him some tips to spare myself 10 years. Fellini, Tarr Béla. A great many of the painters. I’d really like to meet Fernand Léger, for example.
It keeps changing. Ten years ago, I was fascinated by the early Renaissance period, by the contrived manner in which they constructed their visual world. Now it’s Gaugin or the late works of Georges Braque that really knock me out. And to give you two cliché choices: Velázquez and Manet.
Can I give some clichéd answers? It’s only clichés that come to my mind right now. But let’s say they should take these clichés to heart because there’s a reason they have become clichés. They should listen to American BS like “You can do it” and “Never give up”. My other piece of advice to them is to be informed. They shouldn’t be forced to do anything they don’t like – or should they? I’m also a bit undecided when it comes to myself – what I force myself into and what I don’t – it is all a little fuzzy.