“Where are we going today, Granddad?”—I kept asking my grandfather. “Well,” my grandfather said, “we are going to a place called “Stay at Home Lilly.”I took my grandfather’s promise seriously. I was sitting on the bench waiting for him to take me to the place called “Stay at Home Lilly” the whole afternoon. I imagined this place as the most beautiful place in the world. The most mysterious place. A place that only my grandfather knew. Finally I couldn’t wait any longer and asked him, “When do we start, Granddad?” He looked at me and burst out in a laugh. He said, “We are not going anywhere Lilly. “Stay at Home” is here. It is the place where we are. He did lie to me. My Granddad lied to me. I heard myself shouting: “No! No! It can’t happen!” I felt sad and humiliated. Only later did I realize that he was right. Because this is the most beautiful place in the world. This is the most mysterious place. And this is the place where I can learn the most important things in life: to love people and nature. Tenderness. Peace. Everything.

main exhibitions:

2017: Pillars of home (Csilla Klenyánszki, Jakub Simcik, Lilla Szász), Galeria Klubovna, Brno (group exhibition). Curator: Flóra Gadó
2017: Our House, 2B Gallery, Budapest, Hungary (solo exhibition). Curator: Flóra Gadó
2013: Still, MODEM, Debrecen, Hungary (group exhibition). Curator: Mónika Perenyei
2011: Just because, a projection of photographs, 2A Bar, New York. Curators: Hatnim Lee and Lauren Duque

Comrades documents the lives of Russian Jewish Veterans living in Brighton Beach, New York. As members of the Russian army, these people fiercely fought German occupation from 1941 to 1945. In the 1990s, because of the post-war anti-Semitism in their own country, they immigrated to the US and settled in New York City. As The New York Times explained, “As Jews who shared both the deprivations of a brutal war against Hitler’s forces and post-war anti-Semitism under a Soviet system they had risked their lives to preserve, their allegiance is not to the former Soviet Union, nor to the Red Army, nor even to Mother Russia, but to one another.” The association today boasts 3,000 members.

main exhibitions:

2018: Women in 3 Acts (Paz Errázuriz, Gluklya, Anastasia Khoroshilova, Ditte Lyngkaer Pedersen, Maya Schweizer, Lilla Szász), Gallery INDA, Budapest, (curator: Kati Simon)
2018: Women in 3 Acts (Paz Errázuriz, Gluklya, Ditte Lyngkaer Pedersen, Maya Schweizer, Katarina Šoškić, Lilla Szász), Galerie Fotohof, Salzburg, (curator: Kati Simon)
2013: Foreign Field – Gallery 2B, Budapest (solo exhibition with Szabolcs Barakonyi)
2012: Other Worlds – 12 photographers from former Soviet States, The Gallery at Flannels, Leeds
2012: Photo Espana – From Here: a group exhibition with Richard Avedon, Richard Billingham and Paz Errazuriz– Museo de Bellas Artes, Madrid, Photo Espana, 2012, curator: Gerardo Mosquera – The exhibition won the Prize of the audience (El Premio del Publico, PHE 2012)

My book Comrades (2011) is >> available to purchase <<

These pictures document the lives of three close friends—Michael, Monica, and Alexander—within the closed world of sex work. Captured between 2008 and early 2010, the series unfolds entirely within the flat they shared, a space that served at once as their workplace, home, and emotional battleground. At the center of the story is the complex, tragic relationship between Michael and Alexander. Michael’s suicide in February 2010, though not directly linked to prostitution, reflects the emotional scars of unrequited love and a life marked by abandonment and trauma. Their story raises deeply human questions about love, dependency, and emotional resilience—issues that extend far beyond their community. What these images ultimately revealed to me is that emotional pain and the search for connection are always particular, shaped by individual lives and circumstances.

My self-published book, Mother Michael Goes to Heaven (2011), is >> available to purchase <<

main exhibitions:

2023: UNVEILING, Liget Gallery, Budapest, Hungary (curator: Veronika Molnár)
2019: Red Umbrella Struggles, Edith-Russ-Haus for Media Art, Oldenbourg, Germany (curator: Edit Molnár)
2018: Women in 3 Acts (Paz Errázuriz, Gluklya, Anastasia Khoroshilova, Ditte Lyngkaer Pedersen, Maya Schweizer, Lilla Szász), Gallery INDA, Budapest, (curator: Kati Simon)
2018: The Family of No Man (Group exhibition featuring 494 female and inter-gender artists), Arles Photo Festival, Cosmos Arles Books (curator: Natasha Christia)
2018: Women in 3 Acts (Paz Errázuriz, Gluklya, Ditte Lyngkaer Pedersen, Maya Schweizer, Katarina Šoškić, Lilla Szász), Galerie Fotohof, Salzburg, (curator: Kati Simon)
2017: The Way We See. An Overview of Hungarian Photography, National Museum in Warsaw (curator: Gabriella Csizek)
2013: Mother Michael Goes to Heaven, Gallery Liget, Budapest (solo exhibition)
2012: Photo Espana – From Here: a group exhibition with Richard Avedon, Richard Billingham and Paz Errazuriz– Museo de Bellas Artes, Madrid, Photo Espana, 2012 – The exhibition won the Prize of the audience (El Premio del Publico, PHE 2012) (curator: Gerardo Mosquera)

Between 2006 and 2007, I photographed mothers living in shelter homes across various municipal institutions. One of these was the Moonflower Home for Mothers (Százszorszép Anyaotthon), which operated as part of the Rákospalota Correctional Institute and Central Special Children’s Home.

The shelter provided refuge for mothers—most of them escaping domestic violence—along with their children. Some were very young, juvenile mothers who had come from the Children’s Home connected to the institution. Mothers were allowed to stay in a shelter for a maximum of three years, after which they had to move to another home.

On 30 June 2006, the Ministry of Youth, Family, Social Affairs, and Equal Opportunities closed the Moonflower Home. The closure meant that the mothers could no longer remain there, and social workers had to find solutions for each family. While this was a difficult transition, fortunately, placements were found for all of them in other homes across Budapest. Mothers who had originally come from the Girls’ Home were allowed to remain in the institution itself, while others were relocated.

It was around this time, as the home was preparing to close, that my photographs were taken. When the Moonflower Home closed, the following farewell speech about the mothers’ future was delivered:

“Before I became a mother, I did not know the feeling when your heart is outside your body. I didn’t know how wonderful it is to feed a child. I didn’t experience the tie between a mother and a child; I couldn’t imagine how important a child can be. Before I became a mother, I never woke up in the middle of the night every ten minutes to check if everything was okay with my child. I have never felt such tenderness, pleasure, happiness, love, care, and miracle until I became a mother. I have never thought I was capable of such feelings before I became a mother.”

main exhibitions:

2023: Handle with care. Ludwig Museum, Budapest (curator: Viktória Popovics, Rita Dabi-Farkas)
2010: Campus PHE Edicion de Libros, Complejo El Aguila, PHE 2010, Madrid
2011: Contemporary Photography from Hungary, Berlin, (curator: Gabriella Csizek)
2008: Contemporary Hungarian photography, Collegium Hungaricum, Vienna, (Curator: Gabriella Csizek)
2008: Present continuous – Mai Manó House of photography, Budapest, (curator: Gabriella Csizek)
2008: Contemporary Hungarian photography, Neuer Berliner Kunstverein, (curator: Gabriella Csizek)
2008: Contemporary Hungarian photography, Hallescher Kunstverein, (curator: Gabriella Csizek)
2007: Krakow Month of Photography, (curator: Gabriella Csizek)
2007: Among people, Warsaw, Fabryka Trzciny, (curator: Gabriella Csizek)
2007: Present Continuous, Budapest Gallery, (curator: Gabriella Csizek

A girl stabs her own father to death. Another shoots her stepfather. A third is a thief. They’ve all lost something, or never had it in the first place: parents who loved them enough, or an environment that supported them in times of trouble. “Why do such people like my parents need a child?” asks Sabina with a trembling voice. “They can fuck but they can’t give love or tenderness.” Sabina has spent three years in a detention home for adolescent girls. She was only four months old when her parents first put her in an orphanage, and she spent her life shuttled from one orphanage to another.

Her father once worked as a mechanic, and her mother also had a job. Then they both started drinking, and the family fell apart. In 2004, Sabina and her three brothers and sisters were taken away by the government and put into a home. At that time, she was the only breadwinner in the family, and she called her job “Shopping Malling,” which meant stealing from shopping malls. Sabina was 10 years old when she began to steal. Then the drugs came, starting with sniffing glue and ending up on heroin. She was eventually busted for armed robbery; she and her two friends held a girl at knifepoint and ordered her to give over her wallet. The girl only had 35 bucks and a ragged cell phone.

Sabina thinks that her crime was nonsense. But she also says that she had no other choice. “My mother and father left me. Where else could I have turned?” When I took these photos, she was clean and living a normal life in the detention home. After the detention home, she was going to go to a care home with her brothers and sisters.

I have always been interested in situations in which one can experience the extremities of life. The people I photograph and their fates are not often spoken about. They live their lives, they try to survive, and the only time they come into our consciousness is when they commit a crime. Nobody cares why they did what they did. Nobody thinks there could be reasons for their behavior. I committed myself to these children to show what the beauty of life means for them, what their dreams and hopes are. And the answer is so simple. They wish to be what they are: children.

‘Daughters’ was photographed in a juvenile detention home. When I looked around their rooms, I could see how much they are attracted to Hungarian and international pop stars and celebrities. When I asked them why, they said it’s because these people are beautiful, rich, and successful. I became curious. I wished to know how these women find beauty and happiness under circumstances in which they are closed away from life and live together waiting for freedom — even if freedom means going back to crime for many of them. So I asked them to think about what the word “beautiful” means to them. They dressed up in their most beautiful clothes and took me to their favourite places. They behaved in front of my lens in the way they thought they were beautiful. Part of my concept was to let them control me. Thus, they organised my pictures, which showed their dreams about life and beauty.

Based on the series, a book was published by FOTOHOF in 2012. >> it is available to purchase <<

main exhibitions:

2024: #Good morning bro, Gallery Inda, Budapest (curator: Zsolt Kozma)
2013: In Kitchen. In bed. In public, Hungarian House of Photography (curator: Kata Oltai)
2009: Busted, Powerhouse Arena, New York (curator: Sara Rosen)
2005: Necc, a világ tyúkszemmel, KOGART House (curators: Krisztina Erdei, Judit Katalin Elek)

A radio report had caught my attention—it spoke of a quiet yet painful reality: far more women than men reach old age, as men tend to die younger. As a result, many women grow old alone. To escape loneliness, or to ease the burden on their families, they often move into care homes, where they spend the final chapter of their lives.

This idea stayed with me and soon became something of an obsession: how do these women create a sense of home after leaving everything behind? How do they find joy and meaning in this later stage of life?

Over time, I visited and photographed many elder care homes. The most extraordinary one was a shelter for elderly Jewish women. What made it unique was that residents were allowed to bring everything with them—even their furniture. In this way, they could recreate their old homes almost exactly as they had been. And yet, the people they had once shared those homes with were gone. Now, they lived among memories and keepsakes, piecing together a sense of belonging in an unfamiliar place.

 

main exhibitions:

2018: Women in 3 Acts (Paz Errázuriz, Gluklya, Anastasia Khoroshilova, Ditte Lyngkaer Pedersen, Maya Schweizer, Lilla Szász), Gallery INDA, Budapest, (curator: Kati Simon)
2018: Women in 3 Acts (Paz Errázuriz, Gluklya, Ditte Lyngkaer Pedersen, Maya Schweizer, Katarina Šoškić, Lilla Szász), Galerie Fotohof, Salzburg, (curator: Kati Simon)
2012: Photo Espana – From Here: a group exhibition with Richard Avedon, Richard Billingham and Paz Errazuriz– Museo de Bellas Artes, Madrid, Photo Espana, 2012 – The exhibition won the Prize of the audience (El Premio del Publico, PHE 2012) (curator: Gerardo Mosquera)
2010: LIVE SYNC. Contemporary Photography from Hungary, Shanghai World Expo
2008: Kaunas Photo 08, Kaunas, Lithuania (curator: Mindaugas Kavaliauskas)
2006: Dokumentum 6 exhibition, Hungarian House of Photography
2005: Golden Age – Gallery Liget, Budapest (solo exhibition)

Perestroika brought an end to censorship and lifted the Iron Curtain, and in the 1990s, led to the introduction of the long-awaited market. Money, which up till then had, strictly speaking, meant nothing, now meant everything. And the high priests of this cult of cash were the engineers of the 90s: the gangsters and the “New Russians.” Both groups were mobsters, really—the latter were just a touch more humane and refined: instead of Adidas trainers and raspberry-red jackets, they wore black Calvin Klein jeans. Russia suddenly switched from a position of “everything is forbidden” to “nothing is off limits:” one sixth of the world’s surface found itself in a state of actual anarchy. The government reacted only to the day-to-day political agenda, and all the rest was just left to its own devices, with the mantra being “grab as much as you can”.

Every Sunday night, as many as 180 million Soviet television viewers—children and adults—tune in Walt Disney’s cartoons. From Odessa to Vladivostok, teenagers switch on their radios each week to hear the U.S. Top 20 counted down by a disc jockey from Wyoming who speaks fluent, if accented, Russian. And up to 70% of the films showing in Moscow movie theatres are from Hollywood. Now, in the centre of Moscow, over the head of the statue of the greatest poet, Alexander Pushkin, is a huge Coca-Cola sign. Russia’s greatest cultural father is doomed to stare straight at McDonald’s. Rock’s founding fathers, like Elvis Presley, are as popular as the heavy metal groups Bon Jovi and AC/DC. Margaret Mitchell’s “Gone with the Wind” and James Dean dress-alikes abound, as do Madonna wanna-bes. Many peddlers wear baseball hats, T-shirts and sweat shirts with logos of U.S. sports teams, universities, or even the U.S. flag. Teenage girls with long, stringy hair and hippie-style clothes eat Baskin-Robbins ice cream as they stroll the mall. A Dixieland band plays tunes as Soviet couples dressed in Levi’s or fluorescent warm-up suits wander by. “Elvis is my idol,” says a man, 45, whose long curly hair is streaked with gray. He sees Presley as a rebel. “I’m trying to dress like him because he thought for himself,” “He always did what he wanted to do, no matter what the authorities said. When I was young and these clothes were in fashion in America, the police would give us hell if we dressed like this.” But now, “with my clothes, I want to show the independence of the Russian people from the socialist ideology of our Communist Party bosses. It’s my way of protest. The 22-year-old Nikolai Baranov sells Russian souvenirs to tourists—but he looks more like an advertisement for America. With short-cropped blond hair, a U.S. flag bandanna around his neck, black Levi 501 jeans and Reebok high-tops, Baranov could fit in on any Midwestern college campus. “I have an American flag above my bed,” says Baranov. “I like everything American—American philosophy of life, American politics, the American work ethic. Maybe it’s because that’s where I really want to be.”

 

main exhibitions:

2024: #Good morning bro, Gallery Inda, Budapest (curator: Zsolt Kozma)

In 1998, I received a grant to Saint Petersburg. This was the place where I made my first bigger project. These pictures were taken during the six months I was discovering the city and its inhabitants. Sunbathers are poor people staying every day at the wall of Peter-Paul Fortress from February until late November. They find their everyday happiness by chatting and being outside by the water.

main exhibitions:

2018: Women in 3 Acts (Paz Errázuriz, Gluklya, Anastasia Khoroshilova, Ditte Lyngkaer Pedersen, Maya Schweizer, Lilla Szász), Gallery INDA, Budapest (curator: Kati Simon)
2018: Women in 3 Acts (Paz Errázuriz, Gluklya, Ditte Lyngkaer Pedersen, Maya Schweizer, Katarina Šoškić, Lilla Szász), Galerie Fotohof, Salzburg (curator: Kati Simon)
2016: Recycled Architecture, Gallery Trapéz, Budapest (curator: Nikolett Erőss)
2013: Body-objective – Art Mill, Szentendre Hungary (curator: Katalin Kostyál)
2012: Photo Espana – From Here: a group exhibition with Richard Avedon, Paz Errazuriz and Richard Billingham – Museo de Bellas Artes, Madrid (curator: Gerardo Mosquera)
2003: Sunbathers, Cirko-Gejzír Cinema, Budapest (solo exhibition)