Description

Dad always loved spending time in Washington Square Park, in New York City. Armed with his drawing tablet and a selection of India ink, he would lose himself for hours, sketching the vibrant life around him. The park, alive with a tapestry of musicians, performers, and leisurely strollers, was his sanctuary.

On weekends, we often joined him, basking in the lively atmosphere together. Yet, more often than not, Dad preferred the solitude. It was in those quiet moments that his true artistry emerged. Just him, his ink, and the ever-changing scenes of that iconic park.

Dad’s journey began in Hungary, where he honed his skills in the classical European style at the Royal Academy of Fine Arts in Budapest. His technique was a blend of expressionism and impressionism, bringing a unique flair to his work. His ink drawings, with their confident, expressive lines, were a testament to his old-world training. He had a remarkable ability to convey depth and emotion with just black ink on paper.

Here, he captures a quartet of musicians in Washington Square Park: a drummer, bassist, saxophonist, and trumpet player, playing to a small, captivated crowd. The drawing, an India ink piece with washes, encapsulates the essence of spontaneous musicality and the joy of communal experience. Each stroke of ink breathes life into the musicians, making you almost hear the rhythmic beats and soulful notes.

Even in his later years, Dad’s passion for drawing never waned. Even in his mid 90s, he could be found in his favorite chair, pen in hand, sketching with the same fervor as always. The act of drawing brought him immense joy and kept his spirit youthful.

Every one of Dad’s drawings is a glimpse into his artistic soul, each line a reflection of his immense talent and deep love for his craft and humanity. Drawing in Washington Square Park was not just an activity for him; it was a profound expression of his happiness and creativity.

On this day in 1971, Dad sat on a bench opposite these performers and immortalized their song, with Improv. ❤️

The Drawing Days
I remember Dad leaving early and returning home late, with only his drawing tablet in hand. Inside his tablet were a few sheets of paper, and in his pocket, the drawing instruments - a fountain pen, a small set of colored pencils, maybe a piece of graphite, all held together with a rubber band.

Today, these visions of him walking to and from our home, tablet or easel in hand, stay with me because of their regularity, simplicity, and how he created such beautiful things with so little.

I also sometimes wonder if Mom was lonely while Dad was away on his many artistic journeys, especially during the weekends when she wasn't working. Still, she never complained and always had a welcoming meal ready for him upon his return. She supported him and his creative vision completely. That's true love, and they had it. ❤️

When I look at Dad's art creations, I feel the power of Harmony and Synchrony.

Through My Father's Eyes