Koter Vilmos

Koter Vilmos graduated from the Art and Design University of Cluj. He had several exhibitions in various countries, including India and others, and he participated in the Geumgang Nature Art Biennial in South Korea. He took part in debates and group exhibitions at Magma, tranzit.ro, Bozar, HAU Berlin, and in art residencies and camps, such as those in Lăzarea, Wongol, Guestroom in Maribor, and Žagare. He collaborated several times with the AltArt Foundation, and he was a member of the Balkan Caucasus Collective. His works research and critically re-interpret aspects of social and political life, but also those of the everyday universe, in the form of art interventions in public space, performative acts, installations, and graphic design..

Selected exhibitions and projects: Algorave, Budapest (2020); Art Encounters, Timișoara (2019); Play!Mobile, Romania, Hungary, Serbia, France (2019); Future Museum, Czech Centre, Bucharest (2018); Parcul Feroviarilor, Altart, Cluj-Napoca (2017); Žagarė Fringe Festival (2017); tranzit.ro, Bucharest (2016); Caucasus–Balkan Express, Bozar, Brussels (2016); Caucasus–Balkan Express, Ljubljana (2015); HAU, Berlin (2014); Temps D’Images, Paintbrush Factory, Cluj-Napoca (2014); Magma, Sfântu Gheorghe (2014); 53 Art Museum, Guangzhou (2013); Geumgang Nature Art Biennale, Gongju (2012); Korkép, Lăzarea (2011); Art-Mill, Szentendre (2009); Partapur, Banswara (2008); Masca Theatre, Bucharest (2006).

kotervilmos.com

© Koter Vilmos / National Museum of Transylvanian History

 

General area of interest: modern and contemporary periods
Specific area of interest: nationalist ideology and tribalism
Objective: conducting (artistic) research on Avram Iancu’s pipe/flute/spear and the Hungarian Revolution Flag from the 1848 revolution period
Museum curator: Melinda Mitu

 

Images description (as they appear):

 

[image #01] What does a nation want? – that the other wouldn’t exist?
Mit kíván egy nemzet? [Hu] – ca cealaltă să nu existe? [Ro]
Ce dorește o națiune? [Ro] – hogy a másik ne létezzen? [Hu]

 

There is a continuously rising fear that in the future there will be no more nations, as they are defined today. Besides, several conspiracy theories have emerged in the public discourse that the pandemic caused by COVID-19 is merely a diversion created to establish a “New World Order” with a global government led by a world elite, and it serves only “[…] as a method to the final destruction of nation-states, and for enslavement by perverting the people. […] to give the final blow to nations and human freedom.” – The war of the coming years: https://www.facebook.com/reactiunea/posts/1933319076800729 [the text is in Romanian]

 

Why do we consider the union of all peoples as a threat, why are we frightened by the thought that “freedom, equality, fraternity” could exist for everyone, not just for some “privileged”? Why do we think that if we are no longer attached, if we do not belong to a nation, a country, then we would lose our “identity of affiliation”? We know that it is precisely nationalism – as a product of capitalist development – that implies a rivalry, a complex of superiority and inferiority, a competition between states, an intense effort of militarization, and a race for resources and economic power. Of course, the ethnic/national revolutions for the sovereignty of peoples in the 18th and 19th centuries, in Europe and beyond, played an important role in the struggle for liberation from the oppression of great empires. There was a need for a common belief, that united people more than their religion or social class. Therefore, nationalism became one of the most important ideologies and political/social forces, but it also proved to be one of the main causes of the First and Second World Wars.

 

During the Historia-Hysteria virtual residency, my goal was to explore this controversial birth and growth of the ideology of nationalism in the period of modernity, based on the objects suggested by Melinda Mitu, from the collection of the National Museum of Transylvanian History. I was also curious about how a complicated subject like this can be problematized through the activity and means of a museum institution, and whether this institutional framework can let one think outside it. As a result of my conversation with Melinda Mitu, I began to explore the history of several objects. Eventually what drew my attention the most – based on what she presented – was a pipe, a flute, and a spear attributed to Avram Iancu. The spear is made from wrought iron and has a length of 51 cm. Based on the inventory register of the museum it was acquired in 1908 from Ferenc Ernyeter who received this from some distant relatives of Avram Iancu. However, this piece should be treated with several reservations because there is no reliable data to support the fact that it belonged to him.

 

[image #08 spear] The spear that might have belonged to Avram Iancu – 1849, MNIT, Nr. M. 5429
[image #09] Detail of Avram Iancu’s spear – 1849, MNIT, Nr. M. 5429
[image #10] The inventory register of Avram Iancu’s spear at the Transylvanian Museum; II. kötet. [2nd volume]; I.4842.–II.464.

 

The pipe and the flute are simple wooden objects that were kept safe by Sámuel Borbély after he received them personally from Avram Iancu, at the Abrud market on March 5, 1865. Sámuel Borbély was a Hungarian school teacher and principal at Zalău [Zilah], and Cristurul Secuiesc [Székelykeresztúr]. We could say that Borbély was an intellectual of his time. He founded and edited the first newspaper in Sălaj region [Szilágyság], entitled Szilágy. Not only was he a pedagogue and publicist, but he was also interested in literature and a collector of rare books, objects, and documents. His collection was donated to the Transylvanian Museum by his heirs.

 

[image #02 pipe] The pipe of Avram Iancu – 1865, MNIT, Nr. M. 5431
[image #03] Detail with the label on Avram Iancu’s pipe – 1865, MNIT, Nr. M. 5431
The inscription on the label attached to the pipe:
“1848/9… Olah… carved wooden pipe of. 1865… B.S.” – “Olah” is a Hungarian word that means Vlach, Romanian, but today it is considered mocking and offensive.
[„1848/9… oláh… faragott fapipája. 1865… B.S.” – the original text in Hungarian]
[image #04 flute] The flute of Avram Iancu – 1865, MNIT, Nr. M. 5430
[image #05] Detail with the label on Avram Iancu’s flute – 1865, MNIT, Nr. M. 5430
The inscription on the label attached to the flute:
“The flute of Olah leader Avram Iancu from 1848/9. He gave it to me with his own hand on 5 March 1865. Borbély Sámuel.” – “Olah” is a Hungarian word that means Vlach, Romanian, but today it is considered mocking and offensive.
[„Janku Ábráhám, 1848/9.-ki oláh vezér furulyája. Sajátkezűleg adta nekem. 1865. márcz. 5. Borbély Sámuel.” – the original text in Hungarian]

 

Avram Iancu, also known as the “Prince of the Mountains”, was a historical figure with a tragic fate, and who later became a national hero for Romanians. He was one of the Romanian leaders and freedom fighters of the 1848 uprising in Transylvania, and he was obsessed with the same ideas of freedom as the Hungarian revolutionaries. He wanted to acquire fundamental socio-political rights for the Romanians living in Transylvania: the liberation from serfdom and the recognition as a nation by the Hungarians. What the landlords of Transylvania feared most, was the idea of freeing the serfs. Avram Iancu hoped that if their uprising was successful, the Austrians would keep their promises, but these hopes soon shattered and the compromise between Hungarians and Romanians came too late. On the other hand, the Hungarians considered him a counter-revolutionary, who fought against the Hungarian revolution in 1848 as an ally of the Habsburg Empire, and who is believed to be responsible for the massacres against the Hungarian population in Transylvania. Actually, the executions were reciprocal, taking into account only the principle of ethnicity and loyalty to one side or another. What happened cannot be honorable to any ethnic group, neither Hungarians nor Romanians.

 

[image #06 pipe, flute] The inventory register of Avram Iancu’s pipe and flute at the Transylvanian Museum; V. kötet. [5th volume]; III.8869.–IV.3784.; N.1438.–N.1579.
[image #07 pipe, flute, spear] The inventory register of Avram Iancu’s pipe, flute and spear at the National Museum of Transylvanian History; Istorie Modernă [Modern History]; Vol. II; M. 5287 – M. 12425

 

As we can see, one side considers Avram Iancu as a national hero, and the other as an enemy. It is a typical story of what the nationalist narrative produced as early as the 19th century. The Hungarians refused the Romanians in Transylvania, exactly the same thing for which they claimed to be fighting, the recognition of the nation as a political nation. The contradictions of nationalism were already visible here. Even today, Hungarian and Romanian historiography is still tormented in establishing a common basis for evaluating the events of the 1848–49 revolution.

 

While I was searching further, another person whom I found intriguing appeared in this story. It is about Grigore Moldovan, who wrote a travelogue in the Hungarian newspaper Magyar Polgár [Hungarian Citizen] issue 120, 121, 125, 126, published in 1881, with the title Where Iancu and Horea Were Born – A hol Janku és Horea született (sic!). In this article, he raised the question, who keeps Iancu’s flute? – “Vajjon ki őrzi Janku furulyáját?” (sic!). Sámuel Borbély was the one who safeguarded these objects. David Prodan describes in his paper A Hungarian Publicist About Avram Iancu 1864–65. [Un publicist ungur despre Avram Iancu 1864–65.; Apulum, Nr. I, 1939–1942] that Borbély acknowledged in his manuscript that after reading Moldovan’s article in the newspaper, he felt provoked to write about his personal encounter with Avram Iancu and also to give an answer to the question concerning the flute. He found Moldovan’s portrayal of Iancu romantic, so he wanted to create a portrait that he thought was more appropriate and authentic. Most likely, it was published in one of the newspapers of the time, but I couldn’t find it, nor its original manuscript Memories from Avram Iancu [Emlékek Janku Abrahámtól (sic!); Biblioteca Universității Cluj, Manuscrise, Nr. 3161] referenced in David Prodan’s and also in Maria Mirel’s paper Objects Related to the Revolution of 1848 in the Collection of the History Museum of Transylvania [Obiecte legate de revoluția din 1848 în colecția Muzeului de istorie al Transilvaniei; Acta Musei Napocensis, Nr. X, 1973] at the Central University Library of Cluj-Napoca with the registration nr. 3161.

 

Grigore Moldovan was a Romanian Transylvanian university professor and rector of the Franz Joseph University in Cluj. His work as an ethnographer, translator, publisher, and journalist has greatly contributed to the Hungarian and Romanian cultural relations and the friendship of the two nations. He published the magazine entitled Ungaria [Hungary] with the subtitle Revistă Socială-Sțientifică-Literară (sic!) [Social, scientific, and literary journal]. It was edited in Romanian and also contained a supplement in Hungarian language, Román-Magyar Szemle [Romanian-Hungarian Review]. In the articles of the magazine he regularly reacted and answered to the attacks condemning his beliefs. For all this, he also harshly criticized the political newspaper Tribuna and pursued an endless dispute with the Romanian press.

 

His political position was that the principles of the Hungarian liberalism could be the basis for the equality between nationalities, and he was convinced that the problems of the Romanian minority could be solved within the frames of autonomy, as part of the Hungarian national state. Moldovan did not propose Transylvania’s separation from Hungary, and this opposed the nationalist interest of Romanian intellectuals. Although he was Romanian, he is largely known by his Hungarian name, Moldován Gergely and this appears also on his grave in the Hajongard cemetery in Cluj-Napoca. Due to his conviction, he is considered to be a Hungarianized Romanian, a “Judas”, a “traitor” by most Romanians. He confronted the nationalist ideology, so he was “banished” from the Romanian public consciousness.

 

Despite all this, Moldovan thought of himself as a Romanian patriot:
“I’m a true Romanian, and that I want to stay; I will not allow anyone to consider themselves a better Romanian than me.
And no one should want me, not to be Romanian. I have never denied my people, my blood, and I never will. But I can reconcile this pure, spotless Romanianness with my Hungarian civilian rights.” – Grigoriu Moldovan: Response to the memorandum of Romanian youth from Bucharest, Ungaria [Hungary], 1891, 1st season, nr. 1–4

 

Through his work, Grigore Moldovan believed that he could help bring Romanians and Hungarians closer together, to get to know and understand each other in a better way. Apart from him, there were others too, who criticized the bad procedures applied against the non-Hungarian peoples, and who believed that everyone, regardless of ethnicity, should have the same rights. But these voices were increasingly suppressed by the prevailing ideology that nations should be built solely on ethnic principles.

 

One of the most intriguing moments was when I accidentally came across a Hungarian revolutionary flag. It caught my attention when I was reading Maria Mirel’s paper “Objects Related to the Revolution of 1848 in the Collection of the History Museum of Transylvania”, that in the museum’s collection several original flags were kept from the time of the 1848 revolution. This part of the text in the paper is not very detailed, it only lists and briefly presents these objects. What piqued my curiosity was the mention of a cream silk flag with a Hungarian text, namely the motto Szabadság, Egyenlőség, Testvériség [Liberté, égalité, fraternité], which dates from the French Revolution. As an ideal, it was adopted by many others and was also widely used during the Hungarian Revolution. There was no illustration attached, only a very short description that the text was embroidered with golden threads on a piece of cream fabric and the size of the flag is 50 x 116 cm. It seemed unusual to me that the text was not adorned on a horizontal red, white and green, Hungarian national flag, which was already widely used as a civilian flag in 1848. At this point, I thought this might be something that supports the idea that, even during the Hungarian Revolution, some considered it also important to achieve a real brotherhood among different peoples, that everyone is entitled to have the same rights, not just certain groups.

 

[image #11 flag] Flag with the “liberty, equality, fraternity” inscription – 1848, MNIT, Nr. M. 6530
[image #12] Detail of “liberty, equality, fraternity” flag – 1848, MNIT, Nr. M. 6530
[image #13] The inventory register of the flag at the Museum of the Relics of the 1848–1849 Revolution
[image #14] The inventory register of the flag at the National Museum of Transylvanian History; Istorie Modernă [Modern History]; Vol. II; M. 5287 – M. 12425

 

Although there is no complete consensus over the French revolutionary motto, “liberté” is considered as the essence of freedom, the ability to act freely in a way that does not harm others. “Égalité” is rather defined as judicial-political equality, meaning that the law must be the same for everyone, that all citizens, human beings should be considered equal. The third term, “fraternity” is the most problematic and complex of all these. There are different interpretations, but it is mainly about moral obligations to the community. This should have been the most valuable idea, but it was misunderstood and instead of uniting everyone, it created a division between those who were considered brothers and those who were not. Eventually, it formed a racial, ethnic basis and adapted the ideology of “nationality.” This meant that you were born into it, on one side or the other, and only those who had the same “blood” could be part of the same “tribe”.

 

So the question “What does a nation want? – that the other wouldn’t exist?” might be considered provocative or uncomfortable, but after the horrors of twentieth-century nationalism, it is vital to understand its contradictions and how it transforms the connections between different groups of people. Even today on both the Hungarian and the Romanian side, and not only, what is described in the history textbooks is very different. Each has created his own distinctive myth and truth about their nation. Their national interests have been and always will be above the other. As we could observe, in recent years, both countries invested a lot in their nationalistic rhetoric and politics. Yet both are very concerned and condemn when it is about the risks of the growing nationalist tendencies in the neighboring state. They also accuse each other of revisionist dreams and nostalgia that they might have for the past and future. It is probably not without reason. We could say as a cliche that history might repeat itself, or we could simply note that the contradictions concerning nationalism are still the same. During the 1848–49 revolution, the Hungarians refused to recognize Romanians as a political nation. Exactly the same thing they claimed to be fighting for, to be recognized and to become independent as a nation from the Austrian Empire. Each nation has always strived not to become the slave of the other.

 

“Nations are the most Iklike of all. No wonder the Iks seem familiar. For total greed, rapacity, heartlessness, and irresponsibility there is nothing to match a nation. Nations, by law, are solitary, self-centered, withdrawn into themselves. There is no such thing as affection between nations, and certainly, no nation ever loved another. They bawl insults from their doorsteps, defecate into whole oceans, snatch all the food, survive by detestation, take joy in the bad luck of others, celebrate the death of others, live for the death of others. […] It only says what we’ve always known and never had enough time to worry about, that we haven’t yet learned how to stay human when assembled in masses.” – Lewis Thomas: The Iks, from the book “The Lives of a Cell”, 1974

 

It is generally accepted that the idea of nation and nationalism is a fairly modern, relatively new phenomenon. A few hundred years ago this concept was still unknown, but in the 19th and 20th centuries, people were already willing to kill and die for it. According to Hans Kohn and Anthony D. Smith – both key authors of the history of nationalism – we should distinguish between two main models of nations and nationalism, which are the civic and ethnic types. It was argued that the former should be seen as “good nationalism” or modern, which is associated with the West. The foundation of these national communities is based on social contract and citizenship, which are primarily built on the adoption and sharing of the same laws and political rights. In contrast, the ethnic type of nationalism is said to be characteristic of Eastern and non-Western worlds. This is considered to be predetermined mainly by birth, origin, language, and affiliation, which is based on cultural identity and myth inherited from ancestors. They are presented as opposing typologies, and the shift from ethnic to civic direction is considered a necessary development process. However, these views only led to a dichotomy and sparked discrimination between the two types of nationalism, Western and Eastern. Another well-known interpretation of nationalism is attributed to Benedict Anderson – author of the book Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism –, who believes that nations are socially constructed, that nationalist ideology led to the rise of nations only as a product of modernity, and this was largely driven by the means of political and economic ends. He defines a nation as an “imagined political community” represented and symbolized by a sovereign state. In his view, the division between West and East can be explained by the fact that, historically, such states first emerged in the West, these became the examples and provided the model. While Benedict Anderson argues that nationalism and the nation is a modern construction and also emphasizes its utopian element, Anthony D. Smith takes the opposite view and insists that nations have premodern origins, that they have existed since early human history, and every nation has a dominant “ethnic core”.

 

What remains certain – no matter how sophisticatedly we try to articulate and define it – is that over the past two centuries, nation and nationalism have become one of the strongest political and social forces that determine how humans organize themselves into various types of groups. To put it more simply, it is essentially still a form of tribalism, or in other words a “glorified tribalism” which stems from a fundamental human condition, the need for belonging to a community. But, will we ever be able to think about this “imagined community” as the whole of humanity, as a global civilization? Can we truly “imagine humanity”?

 

 


 

[Ro]

„[…] ca metodă de distrugere finală a statelor naționale și înrobire prin pervertire a omului. […] pentru a da loviturile finale națiunilor și libertății omului.” – Războiul anilor ce vin: https://www.facebook.com/reactiunea/posts/1933319076800729

 

[image #02 pipe]
„1848/9… român… pipă de lemn lucrată manual de. 1865… B.S.”

 

[image #04 flute]
„Fluierul lui Avram Iancu, lider român din 1848/9. Mi-a dat-o cu propriile mâini în 1865, 5 martie. Borbély Sámuel.”

 

Muzeul Ardelean [Erdélyi Múzeum]
Muzeul de Relicve ale Revoluției de la 1848–1849 [1848–49-es Országos Történelmi Ereklye-Múzeum]

 

Pe unde s-a născut Iancu și Horea [Ahol Janku és Horea született], ziarul Magyar Polgár, anul 1881, nr. 120, 121, 125, 126

 

Cine oare păstrează fluierul lui Iancu? [Vajjon ki őrzi Janku furulyáját?]

 

Amintiri de la Avram Iancu [Emlékek Janku Abrahámtól]

 

„Sum rumân verde, și acela voiesc a rěmânea; nu conced, ca nimenea să sě țînă mai bun rumân decât mine.
Și nici nu pretinde dela mine nimenea ca să nu fiu rumân. Nici când nu mi-am negat neamul și sângele meu și nici nu îl voiu nega nici odată. Însă eu știu a uni aceasta rumânitate curată și ne pătată cu drepturile mele de cive al statului maghiar.” (sic!) – Grigoriu Moldovan: Respuns la memoriul tinerilor români din București. (sic!), Ungaria, 1891, anul I, nr. 1–4

What do we need art for?

The question is indeed an important one, but it is rather difficult to give an accurate answer to. The reason for this is probably because what we consider art today has a broad range of definitions and interpretations. None of them can fully encompass it, because it is either too general and abstract or way too limited. However, the role of determining what art is good for, has been given almost entirely to the market. For the most part, it has been reduced to meaningless products and services, to empty objects, and it became only a means of entertainment and show business. If it cannot be owned and sold, if it is unable to create attention neither spectacle, then it has almost no value. It seems that the production of art as goods, their content, and significance are mostly subordinated to these, but without a market value, the need to possess or expropriate would not exist, and when no one wants to own anything, it can become part of public goods and universal values.

 

Given all this, an idealistic and wishful answer to the question might be that there would be a greater need for an “art” that is constantly curious and provides a critical examination of the world and whose value cannot be subjected to market profit. An art that can bring about a fundamental change in one’s perception, that leads to a “metanoia” on the personal and collective level. Besides, it can raise issues by exploring them through various representations that might comfort or bother us, whether it is about socio-political, religious, scientific, and everyday life or other phenomena. Could art serve as a channel for apprehension and for a better understanding of our human condition? Could art have such a mediating position?

 

An example could be the Hubble Ultra-Deep Field experiment. It is a multidisciplinary collaborative achievement, yet what we have as a result of this joint effort is only an image that spans more than 10,000 galaxies, but it enables us to envision, understand and see farther than ever before. Is it a work of art or just a scientific by-product?

 

About my experience/contribution within the frame of Historia-Hysteria project

Lately, due to the pandemic, we had to go through a lot of unexpected situations and now it seems that nothing has turned out the way we wanted or planned – meanwhile, affirmations like this have become clichés. It was obvious that, under such circumstances, most of the projects had to be reorganized, rescheduled, or abandoned.

 

With this in mind, I was pleased that the Historia-Hysteria art residency, instead of being canceled, was repositioned in an online, virtual space and became a kind of home-art-residency. However, at first, I could not anticipate the upcoming difficulties that would arise later. One of these challenges for me was to keep my attention and not be overwhelmed by the digital overdose that flooded our time. Another was that the usual framework of so-called normal residences was missing: the advantages of spending time in different places for a specific purpose and period, the chance to meet people from various fields and to gain an insight into their work, as well as the opportunity to move away and disconnect from everyday tasks and problems that are related to our usual environment. The lack of these factors in an online home-residency made it more challenging to concentrate and elaborate on the topic I was interested in.

 

What I knew was that I wanted to continue and build on some of my previous works that analyze the issues concerning nationalism. Figuring out how I can begin a study remotely based on the museum’s collection seemed difficult at first, but after exchanging several emails with Melinda Mitu from the museum, I started heading towards a direction that was based on the objects she presented me from the modern period. These were mostly connected to the events and those involved in the Hungarian and Transylvanian Romanian revolutions of 1848–49. From here I got more into the discussions that I had with Melinda Mitu and let myself be guided by her suggestions. Based on the information she provided on the subject, I began to follow mostly the story of two objects, a pipe and a flute that belonged to Avram Iancu and which he gave to Sámuel Borbély, and eventually a Hungarian revolutionary flag, that I accidentally discovered during my search. I wanted to find out as much as possible about their stories from the documents and descriptions associated with them. Also, I began to study these historical objects in correlation with the topic of nationalism, but now from a more local perspective, based on the dispute between two neighboring countries, Hungary and Romania, through the modern period.

 

It was no surprise that these objects, preserved by the museum, are inseparable from the life history of their owners and from the political context in which they existed. Their narratives and identities are determined by their origins, otherwise, they would have no museum or collection value. Without their “history,” they would probably be worth nothing. The pipe and the flute that belonged to Avram Iancu became an almost sacred item for the Romanian historical memory, but the same could be true, for example, to any object associated with Lajos Kossuth, for the Hungarians. And there could be plenty of other examples from nations, such as Serbs, Ukrainians, Germans, Poles and so on. These objects from the past collected by museums, seemingly coexist peacefully next to each other, but over the years, their stories and myths have been reinterpreted and used for various national interests to underlie many political goals and conflicts.

Of course, my analysis during the Historia-Hysteria art residency is vague and by no means complete, the theme of nationalism is much broader and more complex. I do not think that only the lack of the ideology of nationalism would radically change the principle of how human societies are organized, but we must be able to imagine something better, a world beyond this.

 

Where I am (situated) right now (it could be artistically, geographically or both)

In an endless intermediate condition, characterized by a certain state of in-between, moving away from something and approaching something else. Between two small towns, between being labeled as Hungarian or Romanian, among friends and strangers. Amidst multiple thoughts, between learning and forgetting more, between being active and doing nothing. Between a state of thinking and unconsciousness, between being someone and no one, between being and not.