The Midas Shutter

Photographer Stephen Spinder aims his lens at Hungarian culture.

By: Mary Jasch

"Easter Morning, Mira," 1999 (above), taken in Transylvania and "Blue Fog," 2000 (below), shot in Budapest by Stephen Spinder.

   Stephen Spinder — photographer, dancer, businessman, seeker of dreams — is a study in contrasts. As with his photographs, shadow and light play on the man, as do structure and freedom burned with discipline and unbridled passion.
   For work, Mr. Spinder, born in Rochester, N.Y., photographed the goods and services of corporate America and the U.S. Army. For fun, he danced his way across the states. He swung, tangoed, square danced and boogied. "Folk dance to me was international, where men jumped around in a circle and held onto each other’s belts," he says by phone from California, where he is visiting some friends.
   "I ended up in Colorado and met this guy from Budapest. He ate, talked, drank, taught dance and threw women around," says Mr. Spinder. "I asked him where I might go if I went to Hungary. He wrote the names of a few small villages where folk traditions were still carried on in ages-old clothing."
   In search of eternal dance, women and photography, he landed in Budapest and found his way to Transylvania, where the ancient traditions lived. Through his lens, he memorialized both.
   New Jersey residents can enjoy Mr. Spinder’s Hungarian images of the grand buildings of Budapest and his portraits of Transylvanian life in the folk lane at the Museum of the American Hungarian Foundation. Stephen Spinder: Through My Lens is on view at the New Brunswick museum through Nov. 9.
   The foundation had its eye on Mr. Spinder’s work for some time. Mr. Spinder speaks of Hungarian life like a man who has found religion.
   "I went to Transylvania to witness a different culture and learn about myself, which I would recommend to anyone," he says. "America is the only place in the world where people live homogeneously. In Europe, life is very different. I learned which parts of my life are really me and which are the environment."
   His photos show a parallel — the sepia-toned environment of Budapest and the colorful milieu of Transylvania.

   The Budapest photos record the famous architecture of the Chain Bridge that links Buda with Pest, the cathedral-like lobby of the Gellert Hotel, and the Gresham Palace roofline of spires and alcoves, pointed domes and statues. The black-and-white Budapest shots are devoid of people, in contrast to the colorful portraits of Transylvania.
   "They’re a black-and-white, old, turn-of-the-century feel which sepia added to," he says. "I just wanted to get turn-of-the-century highlights of the Hungarian culture."
   The Transylvanian village photos reflect Mr. Spinder’s love for dance. Many show musicians — a red-shirted fiddler against a bright blue-blurred background with the fender of a new car, a soloist poised against the setting sun, and another fiddler who, upon learning Mr. Spinder was there, rushed to get his instrument to pose for him in the snow.
   Architecture also is prominent. In one photo, two young girls in bright embroidered and beaded garb stand against a cracking cement-over-brick wall. Their nonchalance suggests indifference to the decrepit building. They are ready to dance. In others, smiling dowagers stand in doorways etched in detailed designs, a form of Transylvanian folk art.
   The colorful images are contemplative, evocative declarations of serious fun.
   "My work says it all — preservation of the culture," he says. "It’s my life."
   When Mr. Spinder packed up and moved to Budapest for the last time in ’95, he too was serious. But as in his photos, juxtaposition counts.
   "I was overwhelmed by it all here (in America) — the bad news, making money, then BOOM! Instantly that was gone," he says. "I was eating with the people, sleeping with the people and dancing with them and leaving the West behind. I was fascinated with the culture and dance. It’s knee-whopping, throwing women around and they come back to you."
   He began making portraits for international firms in Budapest, and they asked him for photos of the city. "They picked out 19 and framed them and hung them on the wall and gave me a shoebox full of money," says Mr. Spinder. Word got around and he sold to other corporations.
   "The other irony was to get away from this rat race (in America)," he says. "But slowly my photos began getting recognized. I inadvertently created a business. I became famous."
   He made postcards and a mustache calendar. "People snatched them up. I sold them in Hungary out of my bag," he says. He’s published one book, Budapest Through My Lens, A Solitary Perspective, and is working on a second book of Transylvania photos.
   Despite his resistance to commerce, Mr. Spinder’s photography became a coveted commodity in Hungary and Transylvania. Ambassadors have his photos, as do Emperor Akihito of Japan, Madeleine Albright and Marriott House, which buys them to give to guests. In Hungary, he is a member of the American Chamber of Commerce and does editorial photography for the British Chamber of Commerce.
   "It’s unbelievable what has happened to me," he says. "It’s stuff I couldn’t have done here in America. I didn’t go there to be famous. I went to follow my passions — dance, meet girls and do photography."
   Mr. Spinder found his dreams and has recorded them for the world to see. He says Hungarians have been run over, raped, pillaged by lots of cultures, but always maintained their cultural identity.
   "What I’m doing with this exhibit is to make people aware that this incredibly rich-cultured ancient city is back on the world stage," he says. "I want to wake up Americans and educate them to this part of the world. Budapest is a first-rate, world-class city on a par with the rest of the world and Americans need to know that."
Stephen Spinder: Through My Lens is on view at the Museum of the American Hungarian Foundation, 300 Somerset St., New Brunswick, through Nov. 9. Hours: Tues.-Sat. 11 a.m.-4 p.m., Sun. 1-4 p.m. $5 suggested donation. For information, call (732) 846-5777. On the Web: www.ahfoundation.org