Péter Kis

By going back to sleep...

The songs mostly performed by Chet Baker in Bruce Weber’s documentary Let’s Get Lost. In the film, music, noises and dialogue play in parallel and combine to make a fabulous story.

Nightwood by Djuna Barnes.

Argentina.

If I have good company, both. When I’m alone, I prefer restaurants.

Internet.

Blueprint and MARK.

I don’t have any favourites. Or maybe my riding boots since I have a personal connection to them.

I wouldn’t wear anything I don’t like at first glance.

When I was still at primary school. On Tuesday nights we would watch The Onedin Line on TV. The only agreeable character was Frazer, the steamboat designer, and we thought, judging by his pretty wife, that this job must be ideal for picking up girls. Two of my friends and I decided that’s what we want to do for a living. Then, faced with the sad truth that there is no significant domestic demand for designing steamboats, two of us got into architecture, and our other friend into engineering.

I have favourites based on their professional quality, but for me the circumstances of their creation is much more important because of the discussions with clients, fellow architects and builders. The Pavilion of the Hungarian National Bonsai Collection at Budapest Zoo, the residential building at Práter utca, the processing plant of the Bazaltbor/Laposa Winery and the reconstruction of the Great Rock at the Zoo are the works of mine that stand out. On the other hand, the most joy and harmonious outcome probably came from restoring a small house in the Balaton Uplands.

My maternal grandfather, whom unfortunately I didn’t know personally, but I’m really curious about – all the more so because of his job. He used to be the director of the baths at Római-part. Since my childhood, I’ve speculated a lot about what life could have been like there.
And also the architects Alison and Peter Smithson, a married couple. Thanks to Károly Polónyi I was able to attend a short summer workshop with them at Lake Balaton, and then later visit them in London when one of my works was exhibited at the Royal Academy. They welcomed me most kindly, even though at the time I had no idea of the major role they played in contemporary architecture, probably because they weren’t dressed in black all the time. And in the early ’90s I couldn’t possible have imagined the impact they would have on the British architecture of the 2000s, especially on the work of Adam Caruso, Peter St John, Tony Fretton or David Adjaye.

Interestingly, I’ve learned the most from clients by gaining insight into how they think and talk freely about things that matter the most to them and how to enjoy life. I’d also like to mention Miklós Persányi, with whom I worked together on the reconstruction of Budapest Zoo for 20 years. I learned from him that you can also fight for what’s truly important to you without destroying everything around you. Before, I didn’t believe it was possible.

They should find what inspires them the most and focus on that thing alone.